"You--you--offered your life for me," said Katie, in tearful agitation, "and didn't I almost give my life for you, you dear old boy? You don't know all yet. You don't know that it was for your sake only, and to save you from death, that I consented to sacrifice myself to that awful man." Katie now told Harry the whole story, and the effect of this narration was only to intensify the ardent love of this volatile youth. While he had been face to face with Talbot, he had undergone a severe struggle from conflicting emotions and impulses. But, now Katie was before him, Talbot was present no longer; and Katie was so sweet, so tender, so trustful, and, above all, she had such a story to tell, that he could not resist. Talbot's claims on him became less and less perceptible in those new ones which Katie presented; and so the consequence was that he yielded up everything--his honor, his loyalty, and his duty. "Katie," said he, as he pressed her in his arms, "I love you alone--I'll give up all for you. Let us fly from this place; let us fly. Let us not wait here where these other people are." "Fly?" said Katie; "where?" "Yes, fly!" "But how can we get out? Shall we go out boldly through the gate?" Suddenly some one came between them, and a voice chimed into the conversation. "Yes," said the voice, "fly! That's the ticket. There's a devil here--a she-devil. I'll show you the way out. If you want to get off without Ashby seeing you, I'll show you how; I know the way. It's a secret passage. That's how I escaped the last time; and I'll take you to it when it gets dark." It was Russell who had thus interposed. Harry and Katie showed no resentment whatever at his intrusion, but caught at his suggestion. Russell alluded with clumsy and rather vulgar playfulness to their tender relations, and offered, as guardian, to give Katie away the moment they should find a parson. Meanwhile Dolores had gone out into the court-yard, followed by Ashby. There they stopped, and looked at one another in silence. "Who's that fellow?" said Ashby at last. Dolores explained that he was a friend of hers who had been of great help in Cuba. She did not tell how tender their relations had been. "H'm!" said Ashby. "Never heard of him before. You seemed very intimate." "He saved my life," said Dolores. "Saved your life?" Dolores sighed. Then more of her story escaped her. At last the whole truth came out. "What!" said Ashby; "and so you were engaged. In fact, the fellow is an old lover." Dolores said nothing, but looked at Ashby with mournful inquiry, as though appealing to him to know what she ought to do. "How did he get here?" asked Ashby, calmly. "He has been seeking for me all these years, and traced me here, and was captured." "H'm! that's devotion," said Ashby. "And who's his friend--the girl that was disguised as priest?" "I don't know."