Part 26 (1/2)
Speaking then in this way as though he were Don Carlos, and a.s.suming at the same time the manner and style of a king, the Carlist chief said much about his sorrow at being forced to detain them, and also expatiated upon the difficulties of his own position. Finally, he informed Harry that a tax had been imposed on all foreigners to help pay the expenses of the war.
To this Harry listened attentively, and was not surprised to find that the chief expected a money payment. Whether he called it a tax or any other name, it amounted to the same thing, and became a ransom for their lives. If he and his party were thus held as prisoners to ransom, the act amounted, of course, to nothing else than brigandage, and this Carlist chief was nothing better than a brigand. Against being seized and held as a prisoner on such terms Harry could have offered no end of arguments, of course, together with protests, objections, and threats; but he had far too clear a head to think of such a thing. He knew well the uselessness of mere arguments in a case like this, where he had nothing stronger behind, and therefore he sought to find out just what his position was. So, first of all, he asked what might be the amount of his own ransom.
The answer to this question almost took his breath away. To his amazement and horror, the ransom named for him was no less a sum than ten thousand pounds.
”Will 'Your Majesty' pardon me,” said Harry, with great obsequiousness, and giving to his captor the royal honors which he claimed--”will 'Your Majesty' pardon me if I a.s.sure 'Your Majesty'
that the amount of my ransom is so enormous that it is utterly impossible for me to pay it?”
At this ”His Majesty” smiled, and proceeded to tell Harry the ransoms fixed for the others: these were--for Russell and his party thirty thousand pounds, and for Ashby one thousand. The name ”Lord Russell”
which ”His Majesty” applied to that worthy sounded strange to Harry, but this was a trifle compared with other things, and so, without making any reference to this, he replied:
”Thirty thousand pounds! I a.s.sure 'Your Majesty' that Russell has not the fourth part of that in all the world.”
”His Majesty” looked incredulous, and told Harry that ”Lord Russell”
had himself put his own wealth at two hundred thousand, and that of his ward at fifty thousand.
At this Harry's heart quaked within him for fear of Katie. Now he began to see more clearly the danger that there was. Russell, he thought, had been indulging in some foolish gasconade about himself, and had let out the secret of Katie's fortune. He wondered why Ashby had been let off on so small a sum; and thinking that he might not have heard correctly, he asked again about this. The reply confirmed what he had heard, and Harry could not help making a remark about the strange injustice of exacting ten thousand from him and only one thousand from Ashby. This at once was noticed by ”His Majesty,” who, however, proposed, not to lessen the ransom of Harry, but to raise that of Ashby. He eagerly asked Harry about the wealth of his friend.
”Oh, I don't know,” said Harry, who saw that it would not help himself to have Ashby's ransom raised. ”All I do know is this, which I a.s.sure 'Your Majesty' is truth, that to me a ransom of ten thousand pounds is an impossible sum, and means simply death.”
”His Majesty” smiled, a.s.senting at the same time to the statement that non-payment was equivalent to death.
”In that case,” said Harry, ”may I ask one favor?”
”His Majesty” graciously a.s.sented.
”I should like,” said Harry, ”to have my valise. There's nothing in it that I care about except some cigars--”
”His Majesty” interrupted with a wave of the royal hand, and granted his request. After this Harry was informed that one week was allowed for time in which to procure the ransom, and that if it were not forth-coming at the end of that time, he and his friends would all be shot.
After this Harry was dismissed to his own apartment.
The dread sentence and its possible result interfered neither with the digestion nor the sleep of the light-hearted Harry. That night he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just. He had the bed and the room now all to himself, and would have slept till morning had he not been roused by a very singular circ.u.mstance.
As he lay sleeping, it seemed to him that there was a touch on his forehead of something like a hand, and a murmur in his ear of something like a voice, and, what is more, a woman's voice. In a moment he was wide awake, and had started up and was staring around.
The moonbeams streamed through the narrow windows into the room and fell in broad strips of light upon the stony floor, diffusing a mild and mellow l.u.s.tre in some parts, yet leaving the rest of the great room in obscurity. And here, across those strips of light and through those moonbeams, Harry plainly discerned a figure which was gliding swiftly along. It was a female figure, and it was light and fragile, while long dusky drapery floated around it. So completely overwhelmed was Harry with amazement and bewilderment at this sight, that for full five minutes he sat without moving and stared full before him.
Then he put his feet out on the floor, and, sitting on the side of the bed, slowly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed:
”Well, by Jove!”
Suddenly he started up and sprang toward the place where he had last seen the vision. But now there was nothing visible: the figure, whatever it was, had disappeared. Now, Harry had a strong, robust, healthy nature, a good digestion, tough nerves, and he was not in the least superst.i.tious; yet this event certainly made him feel as he had never felt before. It was the suddenness of it, as well as the incomprehensibility. He had to a.s.sure himself over and over again that he was really awake, and then he had to repeatedly recall the vague and indistinct impressions that had been made.
It was certainly most puzzling. How had any one contrived to enter?
And why should a woman come? Was it a woman, then--that figure--with its noiseless motion, its strange fragility, its flowing, floating, cloud-like draperies? Or was it some affection of his own disordered senses that had wrought out an apparition from his own fancy? It reminded him of those weird and grisly scenes in the old romances which he had read in his boyhood, such as the ”Mysteries of Udolpho,”
the ”Romance of the Forest,” or the ”Castle of Otranto.” This castle might well be the scene of such a mystery. Perhaps the late incident was the revival of some dormant memory, arising out of that half-forgotten reading in the old romances. It may have been a dream, projecting itself forward into his waking hours.
In this way Harry puzzled his brain for some time, sitting on the side of the bed, mystified, and quite at a loss what to do. But, as he was essentially a man of action, he soon grew weary of idle speculation, and determined to search more actively into the mystery, and if possible sift it to the bottom. So he drew a match and lighted his torch. The flame flared up brightly and flung a lurid glow all around. Holding this high above his head, Harry walked about, peering into the darkness, and scanning every nook and corner of the large apartment. But he could see nothing. It was empty. The shuffling noise of his own footsteps as he moved along was the only sound, and no living thing met his eye. It was plain that he was alone, and that no other could be there with him.