"And that poor fool Ashby thinks she loves him! Bah! she cares no more for him than she does for me. The idiot! This is a sweeter vengeance for me than anything else. And, by heavens! he shall still be present at our marriage. For married we shall be in spite of fate, even if I have to gain her consent with the muzzle of my pistol against her brow." CHAPTER XLV. IN WHICH HARRY ASKS A FAVOR, AND LOPEZ BEGINS TO SEE A LITTLE LIGHT. While Lopez was thus chafing and fuming he was accosted by Harry. Harry's position was peculiar, and not particularly enviable. He had been informed that he was a free man, and master of his own actions. Lopez had nothing against him, and by this time had forgotten even his existence. After his deliverance, Harry had gone mooning about, stared at by all in the castle, until at length he had fallen asleep. In the morning he made a great discovery. This was the fact that his freedom to go was useless, and that he was still a prisoner here--a prisoner, though a voluntary one--a prisoner bound to this place by bonds stronger than iron manacles or walls of stone. These bonds were the feelings which had started up within him before he was aware, and now held him fast tied to Katie. He awoke to feel that his present freedom was far less sweet than his late captivity--that delightful captivity with its stolen interviews, and the sweet thoughts of her who was so near. And where was she now? He had seen nothing of her. Had she fled? But how, and why, and where would she have fled from him? Had she been captured? But why? Who would capture her? Yet where was she? These were the questions that came thronging upon him to vex his soul and destroy his peace; so that it was for the purpose of finding out something definite about her that he had sought out Lopez. He looked pale and agitated. Lopez, preoccupied though he was, could not help noticing this, and he thought that Harry must be suffering from anxiety about his friend Ashby. This, however, he immediately found, from Harry's first question, to be a great mistake. Harry was far from suspecting the state of mind in which Lopez was--how full of love and jealousy and suspicion; how at that very moment he was eager to penetrate into the secret of Katie's heart. In fact, Harry suspected nothing at all, and so was not at all on his guard, but blurted out all his feelings. "Captain Lopez," he began, "did you see a young English lady here last night--a Miss Westlotorn?" "Yes," said Lopez. "Did you? Is she--Did--Is--is--is she in--in the castle?" stammered Harry, in distress and deep agitation. There was not one expression on Harry's face nor one tremor in his faltering voice that was not instantly marked by Lopez. There seemed in this to be some clue to the mystery. "She is in the castle," said Lopez.