st Dolores, I have you again!"

All this was rapidly uttered in a resistless torrent of words, in
which all his long pent-up feelings flowed forth.

Dolores began to sob.

"I didn't think this," she said, "or I should have been afraid to
come. Senor, you are false to your English bride."

"English bride!" cried Ashby, scornfully. "What is she? A doll! I
never wish to see her again. My fancy for her was a whim--a passing
whim! _You_, Dolores--_you_ are the only one that I love! I love
_you_! I love _you_, I adore you! my own--"

"Senor," cried Dolores, tearing away her hands, which Ashby had
seized in his, "I will instantly leave you if you are so
dishonorable. All this is insult to me--yes, to me. Oh, senor, you
will break my heart!"

As Dolores said this, sobs burst from her. She glided away into the
gloom, still sobbing. Ashby gave way utterly.

"Dolores," he cried, in a tone of entreaty--"Dolores, forgive me! I
will never offend again--never--never! Oh, forgive me! Come back,
Dolores! Oh, do not leave me, Dolores!"

At this Dolores relented, and Ashby saw her approaching him again. He
advanced toward her.

"Be calm," she said; "speak low; we are in danger."

"But how did you get here?" asked Ashby.

"I will tell you another time. It is a secret passage."

"A secret passage?"

"Yes. I have come to tell you that I can save you. You may escape."

"Escape?"

"Yes. I know the way out."

"How does that happen?"

"Oh, I have been here before."

"You!--here?"

"Yes. When I was a child I was here. My father lived here. He had a
plantation. But enough; I know the way out."

"But haven't you run too much risk in coming here?"

"I have run a risk," said Dolores, slowly, "but not--too--much."

"A risk?"

"Yes. I went into the wrong room. A man was asleep there. I went to
him and touched him, and whispered in his ear your name."

"Dolores!"

"Hush! be calm, senor. Remember your promise."

"Who was the man?"

"I could not see him. He pursued me, but I escaped."

"But you!--how did you get here?"

"By a secret passage, as I said."

"In what part of the castle are you?"

"Oh, in the story above."

"Do they treat you well?" asked Ashby, in a tone of tender
solicitude.

"I have nothing to complain of."

"Do you feel lonely? I wonder if you have felt as I have?"

Dolores sighed.

"Sometimes," she said, "I have felt lonely."

"And you have come here to save me?"

"Yes--why not?"

"B