"She is a baby!" said Ashby; "the English maiden--a mere baby! She can only smile, and smile, and be silly. Her only desire is to find some one who will pet her. She can only live in the sunshine. She is a butterfly! She has no heart, no soul! She is a doll to be looked at, but she can give no return. She is a kitten that thinks of nothing but play. But as for me, I give all my heart and all my love to a girl I know, who is no mere fair-weather friend, but one who has clung to me when others were false, who has come to me in my darkness and my despair, so that my dungeon has become a heaven, and this dark night is the brightest time of my life. And this girl--this, my Spanish girl, is my idol and my deity. I adore her, for I know that she stands ready to give up all for my sake, and to lay down her very life for me. Never--never in all my life have I known anything like the deep, intense, vehement, craving, yearning, devouring love that I feel for her. It even makes me smile to think how feeble and contemptible other feelings have been in comparison with this. I want no other occupation than to spend all my hours recalling all that my darling love has ever said--in recalling the days at Valencia, before I knew she was so dear, and the highest bliss of life I have now. I could be willing to die, and could even die gladly, my darling, darling Dolores, if I could die with your hand in mine." Ashby was going on farther in this pleasing strain, when suddenly, and without a moment's warning, Dolores gave a spring and vanished. Ashby stood confounded. Then he stared all around. Then he called another, "Dolores! Dolores! Don't leave me!" A voice came back through the gloom: "H-s-s-s-h! I must not stay any longer." "But shall I never see you again?" "Certainly; I will come soon, and show you the passage-way." "Where are you?" "Never mind--good-night!" "Oh, Dolores, wait--one word more." "Be quick!" said Dolores, and her voice now sounded nearer. "You will see me again?" said Ashby, in tones of entreaty. "You will not fly and leave me all alone? You will not leave me in this way? I may be taken away from this room, Dolores, or you may be taken to another room; and then how can you get to me? Show me how you came here. You might do that much for me. Only think what dangers there are." Dolores paused a moment. "Well," said she, "only promise one thing." "What?" "That you will not try to visit me. That would be dangerous. Others are with me." "I will not; I promise--except, of course, in cases of the greatest necessity." "If you do," said Dolores, "I shall think that you have not come for me; I shall think it is for the English maiden. And now, come; I will show you the way." Once more Dolores appeared through the gloom. CHAPTER XXVIII. IN WHICH "HIS MAJESTY" FALLS IN LOVE.