ot,
however, were strangers to the pretensions of that singular being who
called himself King, and therefore hoped that this would turn out for the
best. As for Russell, he was in despair, for to him "His Majesty" was more
dreaded than any other human being, with the single and terrible exception
of Rita. And now he felt himself dragged back to meet him--worse, to meet
Rita. Despair took full possession of him. All his strength left him, and
one of the troopers had to give up his horse to the world-worn captive.

It was with such feelings as these that the party reached the castle, and
were led up-stairs into the presence of the King.

The first glance which they gave around showed them that there had been a
slight mistake somewhere.

Down below, the court-yard and the lower hall were full of men. Here there
were twenty or thirty, all in the uniform of officers; all men of
distinguished air and good-breeding; all gentlemen, and far different from
the ragged gang whom they had last encountered here.

In the centre of this company stood a man who at once attracted to himself
the eyes of the party of prisoners. He was of medium size, with heavy
black mustache and dark, penetrating eyes. He had the air of one who had
always been accustomed to the respectful obedience of others; an air of
command which rested well upon his bold and resolute face. It was the face
of one who lived in the consciousness that he was the centre and strength
and hope of a gallant party; of one who believed himself to hold a divine
commission to regenerate a fallen country; of one who knew that he alone
in all the world held up aloft at the head of an army the proud banner of
Conservatism; of one who, for this mission, had given up ease and luxury
and self-indulgence; had entered upon a life of danger, hardship, and
ceaseless toil, and every day lived in the very presence of Death; in
short, they saw before them the idol of the Spanish Legitimists--the
high-souled, the chivalrous Don Carlos.

The quick, penetrating glance which he threw upon the party soon faded
away into a pleasant smile.

"Welcome, ladies!" said he; "welcome, gentlemen! Some one spoke of a party
of prisoners; I had no hope of such good fortune as to meet with guests.
But you must have met with some misfortune, in which case let me help
you."

He spoke in Spanish, of course--a language which is usually spoken in
Spain; and a very pretty language it is, too, and one which I s