w W. H. SMITH & SON'S SUBSCRIPTION LIBRARY, ., % STRAND, LONDON, AND AT THE RAILWAY BOOKSTALLS. WOVELS an i*su*d to and rec&ved from Subscribers in SETS only. TERMS. FO« •MBSC9*Sero OBTAINING THEIR BOOK8 FROM A COUNTRY BOOKSTALL J FotMe Volume at a time - - £0* ?S% - " *l"o (ittretU in mort than Out V*lumt art not mvailabUfor (hit flat* tfSubtcriftum.) For TWO Volumes „ - - - O 17 6 - 1 11 « (NovtU in mort than Two Volumts mrt not mvmUabk/or (hit dot* north of the Rue de Rivoli, round about the great central market, commonly called the Halles. The worst part of it, perhaps, was the Rue Assiette d'Etain, or Tinplate Street. All day evil-looking loafers lounged about its doorways, nodding lazily to the pass- ing workmen, who, blue-bloused, with silk cap on head, each with his loa under his arm, came to take their meals at the wine-shop at the corner ; or gossiping with the porters, male and female, while the one followed closely his usual trade as a cobbler, and the other attended to her soup. By day there was little traffic. Occasionally a long dray, on a gigantic pair of wheels, drawn by a long string of white Normandy horses in single file, with blue harness and jangling bells, filled up the road- VOL. I. B 2 THE THIN RED LINE. way. Costermongers trundled their barrows along with strange, unmusical cries. Now and again an empty cab returning to its stable, with weary horse and semi- somnolent coachman, crawled through the street. But at night it was otherwise. Many vehicles came dashing down Tinplate Street: carriages, public and private, of every variety, from the rattletrap cab hired off the stand, or the decent coach from the livery stable, to the smart spick-and-span brougham, with its well- appointed horses and servants in neat livery. They all set down at the same door, and took up from it at any hour between midnight and dawn, waiting patiently in file in the wide street round the corner, till the summons came as each carriage was required. As seen in the daytime, there was nothing strange about the door, or the house to which it gave access. The place purported to be an hotel — a seedy, out-at- elbows, seemingly little-frequented hotel, rojoicing in the altogether inappropriate name of the Hotel Paradis, or the Paradise Hotel. Its outward appearance was calculated to repel rather than invite customers; no one would be likely to lodge there who could go elsewhere. It had habitually a deserted look, with all its blinds and casements close shut, as though its lodgers slept through the day, or had gone away, never to return. But this was only by day. At night the street-door stood wide open, and a porter was on duty at the foot of the staircase within. He was on the inner side of a stout oaken door, in which was a small window, opening THE COMMISSARY IS CALLED. 3 with a trap. Through this he reconnoitred all arrivals, taking stock of their appearance, and only giving admission when satisfied as to what he saw. The Hotel Paradis, in plain English, was a gambling- house, largely patronised, yet with an evil reputation. It was well known to, and constantly watched by, the police, who were always at hand, although they seldom interfered with the hotel. But when the porter's wife came shrieking into the street early one summer's morning, with wildest terror depicted in her face, and shaking like a jelly, the police felt bound to come to the front. " Has madame seen a ghost ? " asked a stern official in a cocked hat and sword, accosting her abruptly. " No, no ! Fetch the commissary, quick ! A fcrime has been committed — a terrible crime ! " she gasped. This was business, and the police-officer knew what he had to do. " Run, Jules," he said to a colleague. " You know where M. Bontoux lives. Tell him he is wanted at the Hotel Paradis." Then, turning to the woman, he said, " On what charge ? " It is not onr place to explain. We act by autho- rity : that is enough. Will you go with us quietly, or must we use force ? " " Of what am I accused ? " u You will hear in good time. Isidore, where is your rope ? n His colleague produced the long thin cord that serves instead of handcuffs in France. " Must we tie you ? n 6i No, no ! I am ready to submit, but under protest. You shall answer for this outrage. I am an English- man. I will appeal to our ambassador." " With all my heart ! We are not afraid. But enough said. Come." The three — police-agents and their prisoner — went out together. On the threshold of No. 43 the officer named Jules said — (< Your key, monsieur — the key of your room. I will take charge of it. Monsieur the Judge will no doubt make a searching perquisition, and no one must enter it till then." The door was locked, M. Jules put the key in his pocket, and the party went down to the cab, which was driven off rapidly to the depot of the Prefecture. Here the usual formalities were gone through. Rupert Gascoigne, as the Englishman was called, was inter- rogated, searched, deprived of money, watch, penknife, and pencil-case ; his description was noted down, and 12 THE THIN RED LINE. then lie was asked whether he would go into the com- mon prison, or pay for the accommodation of the pistole or private " side." For sixteen sous daily they gave him a room to him- self, with a little iron cot, a chair, and a table. Another franc or two got him his breakfast and dinner, and he was allowed to enjoy them with such appetite as he could command. No one came near him till next morning, when he was roused from the heavy sleep that had only come to him after dawn by a summons to appear before the Juge oV instruction. He was led by two policemen to a little room, barely furnished, with one great bureau, or desk, in the centre, at which sat the judge, his back to the window. On one side of him was a smaller desk for the clerk, and exactly opposite a chair for the accused, so arranged that the light beat full upon his face. " Sit down," said the judge, abruptly. He was a stern-looking man, dressed all in black, still young, with a cold and impassive face, the extreme pallor of which was heightened by his close-cut, coal- black hair, and his small, piercing, beady black eyes. "Your name and nationality ? " 11 Rupert Gascoigne. I am an Englishman, and as such I must at once protest against the treatment I have received/' ct You have been treated in accordance with the law — of France. You must abide by it, since you choose ARREST AND INTERROGATION. 13 to live here. I do not owe you this explanation, but I give it to uphold the majesty of the law." " I shall appeal to our ambassador." The judge waved his hand, as though the threat did not affect him. " I must ask you to keep silence. You are here to be interrogated ; you will only speak in reply to my questions." There was a pause, during which judge and accused looked hard at each other ; the former seeking to read the other's inmost thoughts, the latter meeting the gaze with resolute and unflinching eyes. " What is your age ? " 'i Twenty-six." u Are you married ? " " Yes." u But your wife has left you." Gascoigne started in spite of himself. " How do you know that ? " he asked, nervously. " It is for me to question. But I know it : that is enough. Your occupation and position in life ?" " I am a gentleman, living on my means." " It is false." An angry flush rose to Gascoigne's face as the judge thus gave him the lie. " It is false — you are a professional gambler — a Greek — a sharper, with no ostensible means ! " u Pardon me, monsieur ; you are quite misinformed. I could prove to you " 14 THE THIN RED LINE. " It would be useless ; the police have long known and watched you." ' " Such espionage is below contempt/' cried Gras- coigne, indignantly. " Silence ! Do not dare to question the conduct of the authorities. It is the visit of persons of your stamp to Paris that renders such precautions necessary." " If you believe all you hear from your low agents, with their lying, scandalous reports " 11 Be careful, prisoner ; your demeanour will get you into trouble. Our information about you is accurate and trustworthy. Judge for yourself." Grascoigne looked incredulous. " Listen ; you arrived in Paris three months ago, accompanied by a young demoiselle whom you had decoyed from her home." " She was my wife." " Yes ; you married her after your arrival here. The official records of the 21st arrondisement prove that — married her without her parents' consent." " That is not so. They approved." cc How could they ? Your wife's father is French vice-consul at Gibraltar. Her mother is dead. Neither was present at your marriage ; how, then, could they approve ? " Gascoigne did not answer. " On your first arrival you were well provided with funds — the proceeds, no doubt, of some nefarious scheme; ARREST AND INTERROGATION. 15 a run of luck at the tables ; the plunder of some pigeon " • " The price of my commission in the English Army." 52 THE THIN RED LINE. "Is there anything really to see V she asked. "Is it worth the trouble of landing V " Why, of course ! I thought it was all settled. The general sent some hours ago to say he proposed to paj^ his respect to the Governor. You cannot help yourself now." a Oh ! the general/' remarked Mrs. Wilders, as she was generally styled — the title Countess was only used by intimate friends — in a tone that implied she was not at all bound by her husband's plans. "Where is the good man just now ?" inquired Lord Lydstone, in much the same tone. " There, forward/' said Mrs. Wilders, pointing to thQ part of the deck beyond the awning. " Trying to get a sunstroke by walking about with his head bare." "He does that on principle, Countess, don't you know. He wants to harden his cranium, in case he loses his hat some day in action." " I hope he may never go into action. If he does, I should be sorry for his men." " Not for him ? " " That may be taken for granted," she replied, in a matter-of-fact way. " How fond you are of him ! What devoted affec- tion ! It's lucky you have little to spare ! " " I keep it for the proper person." "Is there none for his relatives?" asked Lydstone, with a meaning look. ON DANGEROUS GROUND. 53 c< Do any of them deserve my affection ?" " I try very hard, Countess ; and I should so value the smallest crumb." " Don't be foolish, Lord Lydstone ! you must not try to make love to me ; it would be wrong. Besides, we are too nearly connected now." " You never throw me a single kind word, Blanche." " Certainly not. I won't have it on my conscience that I led you astray, poor innocent lamb ! A fine thing ! What would your people say ? They're bitter enough against me as it is ! " The Essendines had never properly acknowledged Colonel Wilders's marriage, or treated his wife, the foreign countess, other than with the coldest contempt. Lord Lydstone knew this, and knew too that his mother was right ; yet he could not defend her when " this woman, whom he admired still — too much, indeed, for his peace of mind — resented her treatment. "Your mother has behaved disgracefully to me — that you must admit, Lord Lydstone." " She is an old-fashioned, old-world lady, with pecu- liar straitlaced notions of her own. But, if you please, we won't talk about her." {i Why not ? You cannot pretend that she was right in ignoring me, flouting me, insulting me ! Am I not your near relative's wife ? Why, Bill is only four off the title now." " One of them being your humble servant, who de- voutly hopes that all four will long interpose between 54 THE THIN RED LINE. him and the succession/' said Lord Lydstone, with a pleasant laugh. " I don't wish you any harm, of course ; still it is as I say, and my son " " Aged two, and at present in England at nurse." " — May be the future Earl of Essendine." " He shan't be, if I can prevent it ! " cried Lord Lyd- stone, gaily ; " you may rely on that. But, I say, here is a smart gig coming o*ff from the shore. I believe the Governor has sent his own barge for you. Here, Bill ! I say, Bill ! " General Wilders came aft. " You had better put on your best clothes, general ; they are coming to fetch you in state." ct I suppose, on this occasion only, you will wear a hat, Bill ?" said Mrs. Wilders. u I wish you would go down and get ready, my dear ; we ought not to keep the gig/' said the general, as he himself went below to dress. " I am not so sure I shall go on shore at all," replied his wife. "No!" cried Lord Lydstone. " Throw the general over, and stay on board with me/' " That would be too great penance," said Mrs. Wilders, as she moved towards the companion-ladder. " Fve had enough of your lordship for one day." Lydstone got up, looking rather vexed, and followed her across the deck. When he was quite close to her side he whispered with suppressed but manifest feeling — ON DANGEROUS GROUND. 55 cc Why do you torture me so ? Sometimes I think you care for me ; sometimes that you hate and detest me. What am I think ? " " What you choose," she answered, in a low, quick voice, evidently much displeased. " I have given you no right to speak to me in this way. Let me pass, or I shall appeal to my lawful protector !" Presently Mrs. Wilders reappeared, dressed to per- fection in some cool light fabric, serene and smiling to every one but Lord Lydstone. She was especially gracious to young Mr. Wilders, who had come off in the Governor's gig, and had been cordially welcomed by his brother. " Another cousin," said the general, introducing him. He was now in uniform — the general — in uniform to suit his own fancy rather than the regulations. The only orthodox articles of apparel were his twisted gene- ral's scimitar and a forage-cap with a broad gold band. His coat and waistcoat were of white cloth ; he had a wide crimson sash round his waist, and his lower limbs were encased in hunting-breeches and long boots. " Anastasius, one of the Royal Picts." " All soldiers, you Wilders, all — except one." This was specially intended to annoy Lydstone. " The future head of the house is kept in cotton-wool; he is too precious, I suppose, to be risked." " It is not my fault," began Lydstone. It was a sore point with him that he had not been permitted — in de- ference to his mother's fond protests — to enter the army. 56 THE THIN RED LINE. " Are you not coming with us, Lydstone ? " said his young brother, greatly disappointed. " I did want to show you our mess." '■ I know Gibraltar by heart, and I have letters to write. I hope you will enjoy yourself, Countess/' he added, sarcastically, as they went down the side. " There's no fear of that, now we have left you behind," replied Mrs. Wilders, sharply. " Why can't you and Lydstone keep better friends ? n said General Wilders, a little shocked at this remark. 1 ' It's his fault, not mine, and that's enough about it," replied Mrs. Wilders, rather petulantly. " Did you ever quarrel with your brother," she went on to Anastasius, " when you were boys ? " " I would not have dared. Not that I wanted to : we three brothers were always the best of friends." u You are an affectionate family, Mr. Wilders ; I have long been convinced of that," said Mrs. Wilders, who could not leave the subject alone. But now the gig, impelled by six stout oarsmen, was nearing the Waterport Guard, and was already under the shadow of the frowning batteries of the Devil's Tongue. High above them rose the sheer straight wall of the rock, bristling with frowning fortifications, line above line, and countless embrasures armed with heavy artillery. The wharf itself was crowded with the usual motley polyglot gathering — sailors of all nations, soldiers of the garrison, Spanish peasants from the neighbouring ON DANGEROUS GROUND. 57 villages, native scorpions, policemen, and inspectors of strangers. " How amusing ! How interesting ! It's like a scene in a play ! " cried Mrs. Wilders, as she stepped ashore. Escorted by her husband and cousin, they pushed their way through the crowd towards the Waterport gateway, and under it into the main ditch. As they approached there was a cry of " Guard, turn out ! " and the Waterport Guard, under its officer, fell in with open ranks to give the general a salute. General Wilders acknowledged the compliment, and, while he stood there with two fingers to his hat, Sergeant McKay advanced and reported himself. " Your orderly, sir." u Eh ! what ? " said the general, a little surprised. a My orderly ! Yery considerate of Sir Thomas/' he went on. " One of the Royal Picts, too, and a guard from the same regiment ! Most attentive, I'm sure ! " The general went up at once to the front rank of the guard, and proceeded to inspect the men carefully. With his own hands he altered the hang of the knap- sacks and the position of the belts; he measured in the regular way, with two fingers, the length of the pouch below the elbow, grumbling to himself as he went along. " So you use harness-blacking for your pouches. I don't approve of that. And your pipeclay ; it's got too blue a tinge." While he lingered thus fondly over the trifling details 58 THE THIN RED LINE. a, that, to his mind, summed up the whole duty of general officer, his wife's voice was heard impatiently calling him to her side. " Come, general, don't be all day ! How can you waste time over such nonsense ! " " My dear," said her husband, gravely, as he rejoined her, ' c this regiment is to form part of my brigade " — McKay pricked up his ears — " it is the first time I have seen any of it. You must allow me " "I am going on into the town; inspecting guards doesn't amuse me," and the general discreedy abandoned his professional duties and walked on by her side. The guard was dismissed by its commander; the men "lodged arms" and went back to the guard-room. Only Sergeant Hyde remained outside, watching the retreat- ing figures of the Wilders' party. " I should have known her voice again amongst a thousand/'' said the old sergeant, shaking his head; " and from the glimpse I caught of her she seemed but little changed. I wonder whether she saw me. Not that she would have recognised me ; I am not what I was. No one here has made me out, although a dozen years ago I was well known all over the Rock. Besides, how could she see me ? I was on the other flank, and, fortunately, she left the general to inspect us by himself. Poor man ! I had rather be a sergeant — a private even — than stand in that general's shoes/' 59 CHAPTER VII. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. The Wilders' party, after leaving the Waterport, passed through the Casemate Barrack Square and entered Waterport Street, the chief thoroughfare of the town. It was a narrow, unpretending street, very foreign in aspect ; the houses tall and overhanging with balconies filled with flowers ; the lattice-shutters gaily painted, having outside blinds of brilliantly striped stuffs. The shop fronts were small, the wares common-place ; the best show was at the drapers, where they sold British calicoes and piece-goods in flaunting colours, cal- culated to suit the local taste. The street, both pavement and roadway, was crowded. In the former were long strings of pack-horses bringing 60 THE THIN RED LINE. in straw and charcoal from Spain; small stout donkeys laden with water-barrels ; officers, some in undress uniform, many more in plain clothes, riding long-tailed barbs ; occasionally a commissariat wagon drawn by a pair of sleek mules, or a high-hooded caleche, with its driver seated on the shafts, cut through the throng. Detachments of troops, too, marched by : recruits re- turning from drill upon the North Front, armed parties, guards coming off duty, and others going on fatigue — all these cleared the street before them. On the pave- ment the crowd was as diverse as might be expected, from the mixed population. Stately Moors rubbed elbows with stalwart British soldiers; Barbary Jews, dejected in mien, but with shrewd, cunning eyes, chaffered with the itinerant vendors of freshly caught sardines, or the newly-picked fruit of the prickly pear. Now and again, quite out of keeping with her sur- roundings, a rosy-cheeked British nursemaid passed by escorting her charges — the blue-eyed, flaxen-haired children of the dominant race. General Wilders walked along with head erect, re- turning punctiliously the innumerable salutes he re- ceived, quite happy, and in his element in this essen- tially military post and stronghold. Mrs. Wilders seemed also to enjoy the busy, animated scene : it was all so new to her, so different from anything she had expected, as she was at great pains to explain. The sight of this foreign town held by British bayonets AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 61 pleased her, she said ; she was proud to think that she was now an Englishwoman. " It is your first visit to Gibraltar, then ? " said young Mr. Wilders, anxious to be civil. " Oh, yes ! " she replied ; " that is why I am so in- terested — so amused by all I see." Was this absolutely true ? She seemed, as she led the way across the casemate square and up Waterport Street, to know the road without guidance, and once or twice a passer-by paused to look at her. Were they only paying tribute to her radiant beauty, or was her's not altogether an unfamiliar face ? It was evident that there were those at Gibraltar who knew her, or mistook her for some one else. As the party reached the Commercial Square, and the main guard, like that at Waterport, turned oufr to do honour to the general, a man pushed forward from a little group that stood respectfully behind the party, and whispered hoarsely in Mrs. Wilders's ear — " Bios mio ! Gypriana ! Es usted ? " (Gracious Hea- vens ! Cyprienne ! Is it you ? ) Mrs. Wilders stopped and looked round. At that moment, too, young Wilders turned angrily on the man — a black-muzzled, Spanish-looking fellow, dressed in a suit of coarse brown cloth, short jacket, knee-breeches, and leather gaiters — the dress, in fact, of a well-to-do Spanish peasant — and said, sharply, ' l How dare you speak to this lady ? What did he say to you, Mrs. Wilders — anything rude ? " 62 THE THIN RED LINE. Mrs. Wilders had recovered herself sufficiently to reply in an unconcerned tone — " I did not understand his jargon; but it does not matter in the least ; don't make any fuss, I beg." The incident had been unobserved by any but these two, and it must have been speedily forgotten by young Wilders, for he said nothing more. But Mrs. Wilders, as they passed on, and for the rest of their walk to the Convent, as the Governor's residence is still styled, looked anxiously behind to see if the man who had claimed acquaintance with her was still in sight. Yes ; he was following her. What did he mean ? Half an hour later, when the Wilders had made their bow to the Governor, and it had been arranged that the general should attend an inspection of troops upon the North Front, Mrs. Wilders declined to accept the seat in the carriage offered her. She preferred, she said, to explore the quaint old town. Mr. Wilders and one of the Governor's aides-de-camps eagerly volunteered to escort, but she declined. ie Many thanks, but I'd rather go alone. I shall be more independent." " You'll lose your way ; or be arrested by the garri- son police and taken before the town major as a suspi- cious character, loitering too near the fortifications," said the Governor, who thought it a capital joke. " No one will interfere with me, I think," she replied, quietly. " I am quite able to take care of myself." AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 63 She looked it just then, with her firm-set lips and flashing eyes. u Mrs. Wilder s will have her own way," said her hus- band. " It's best to give in to her. That's what I've found," he added, with a laugh, in which all joined. When the horses were brought out for the parade, Mrs. Wilders, still persisting in her intention of walk- ing alone, said, gaily — " Well, gentlemen, while you are playing at soldiers I shall go off on my own devices. If I get tired, Bill, I shall go back to the yacht." And with this Mrs. Wilders walked off. u Here, sergeant ! ?' cried the general to his orderly, McKay. "I don't want you; you may be of use to Mrs. Wilders. Go after her." iC Shall I report myself to her, sir ? " " I don't advise you, my man. She'd send you about your business double-quick. But you can keep your eye on her, and see she comes to no harm." Sergeant McKay saluted and hastened out of the courtyard. Mrs. Wilders had already disappeared down Convent Lane, and was just turning into the main street. McKay followed quickly, keeping her in sight. It was evident that the best part of Gibraltar had no charms for Mrs. Wilders ; she did not want to look into the shop windows, such as they were ; nor did she pause to admire the architectural beauties of the Gar- rison Library or other severely plain masterpieces of our military engineers. Her course was towards the 64 THE THIN RED LINE. upper town, and she pressed on with quick, unfaltering steps, as though she knew every inch of the ground. Ten minutes' sharp walking, sometimes by steep lanes, sometimes up long flights of stone steps, brought her to the upper road leading to the Moorish castle. This was essentially a native quarter ; Spanish was the only language heard from the children who swarmed about the doorways, or their slatternly mothers quar- reling over their washtubs, or combing out and cleans- ing, in a manner that will not bear description, their children's hair. Spanish colour prevailed, and Spanish smelis. Still pursuing her way without hesitation, Mrs. Wilders presently turned up another steep alley bear- ing the historic name of " Red Hot Shot Ramp," and paused opposite a gateway leading into a dirty court- yard. The place was a kind of livery or bait stable patronised by muleteers and gipsy dealers, who brought in horses from Spain. Picking her steps carefully, Mrs. Wilders entered the stable-yard. " Benito Yillegas ? " she asked in fluent Spanish, of the ostler, who stared with open-mouthed surprise at this apparition of a fine lady in such a dirty locality. u Benito, the commission agent and guide ? Yes, sehora, he is with his horses inside," replied the ostler, pointing to the stable-door. " Call him, then ! " cried Mrs. Wilders, imperiously. " Think you that I will cross the threshold of your AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 65 piggery ? -' and she waited, stamping her foot impa- tiently whilst the man did her bidding. In another minute he came out with Benito Villegas, the man in the brown suit, who had spoken to Mrs. Wilders in the Commercial Square. " Cypriana," he began at once, in a half-coaxing, half-apologetic tone. " Silence ! Answer my questions, or I will thrash you with your own whip. How dared you intrude your- self upon me to-day ? " " Forgive me ! I was so utterly amazed. I thought some bright vision had descended from above, sent, perhaps, by the Holy Virgin " — he crossed himself de- voutly — (t I could not believe it was you.'"' " Thanks ! I am not an angel from heaven, I know, but let that pass. Answer me ! How dared you speak to me to-day ? " " The sight of you awoke old memories ; once again I worshipped you — your shadow — the ground on which you trod. I thought of how you once returned my love." " Miserable cur ! I never stooped so low/' "You would have been mine but for that cursed Englishman who came between us, and whom you pre- ferred. What did you gain by listening to him ? He lured you from your home " " No more ! The villain met with his deserts. He is dead — dead these years — and with him all my old life, VOL. I. F 66 THE THIN RED LINE. That is what brings me here. Attend now, Benito Villegas, to what I say ! " " I am listening," he answered, cowering before her, and in a tone of mingled fear and passion. It was evident this strange woman exercised an extraordinary influence over him. " Never again must you presume to recognise me — to address me, anywhere. If you do, take care ! I am a great lady now — the wife of an English general. I have great influence, much power, and can do what I please with such scum as you. I have been with my husband just now to the Convent, the palace of the Governor, and I have but to ask to obtain your immediate expul- sion from the Rock. Do not anger or oppose me, man, or beware ! J ' Benito looked at her with increasing awe. " Obey my behests, on the other hand, and I will reward you. Ask any favour ! Money ? " — she quickly took out a little purse and handed him a ten-pound note — "here is an earnest of what I will give you. Interest ? Do you want the good-will of the authorities — a snug appointment in the Custom-house, or under the police ? They are jours." u I am your slave ; I will do your bidding, and ask nothing in return but your approval."" " Nothing ! You grow singularly self-denying, Senor Benito." " The senora will really help me ? " said Benito, now cringing and obsequious. " One small favour, then. I AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 67 am tired of this wandering life. Here to-day in Cadiz ; Ronda, Malaga, to-morrow. At everybody's beck and call — never my own master, not for an hour. I want to settle down." " To marry ? " inquired Mrs. Wilders, contemptuously. " In your own station ? That is better ." " I have not forgotten you, senora. But the wound was beginning to heal " She held up her hand with a menacing gesture. " I will not deny that I have cast my eyes upon a maiden that pleases me," Benito confessed. "I have known her from childhood. Her friends approve of my suit, and would accept me ; but what lot can I offer a wife ? " " Well, how is it to be mended ? " " For a small sum — five hundred dollars — I could purchase a share in these stables." " You shall have the money at once as a gift." " I will promise in return never to trouble you again." " I make no conditions ; only I warn you if you ever offend, if you ever presume " " I shall fully merit your displeasure." " Enough said!" she cut him short. " You know my wishes; see that they are fulfilled. You shall hear from me again. For the present, good-day." She gathered up the skirts of her dress, turned on her heel, and swept out of the place. In the gateway she ran up against Serjeant McKay, f 2 68 THE THIN RED LINE. who had been hovering about the stables from the moment he saw Mrs. Wilders enter the courtyard. He had seen nothing of what passed inside, and as the interview with Benito occupied some time he had grown uneasy. Fearing something had happened to the general's wife, he was on the point of going in to jook after her when he met her coming out. " You have been following me," said Mrs. Wilders, sharply, and jumping with all a woman's quickness at the right conclusion. ce Who set you to spy on me ? " 1 ' I beg your pardon, madam ; I am not a spy/' said the young serjeant, formally saluting. " Don't bandy words with me. Tell me, I insist ! " (c The general was afraid something might happen to you. He thought you might need assistance — perhaps lose your way." She looked at him very keenly as he said these last words, watching whether there was any covert satire in them. But M«Kay's face betrayed nothing. " How long have you been at my heels ? How much have you seen ? " (t I followed you from the Convent, madam, to this door. I have seen nothing since you went in here." (c I daresay you are wondering what brought me to such a place. A person in whom I take a great interest, an old woman, lives here. I knew her years ago. Psha! why should I condescend to explain ? Look here, Mr AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 69 Sergeant" — she took out her purse and produced a sovereign — " take this, and drink my health ! " The sergeant flushed crimson, and drew himself up stiffly, as he said, with another formal salute, " Madam, you mistake ! " " Strange ! " she exclaimed, scornfully. " I thought all soldiers liked drink. Well, keep the money ; spend it as you like." "I cannot take it, madam; I am paid by the Queen to do my duty." " And you will not take a bribe to neglect it ? Very fine, truly ! General Wilders shall know how well you executed his commands. But there ! — I have had enough of this ; I wish to return to the yacht. Show me the shortest way back to the water side. Lead on; I will follow you." Sergeant McKay took a short cut down the steep steps, and soon regained the Waterport. There Mrs. Wilders hailed a native boat, and, without condescend- ing to notice the orderly further, she seated herself in the stern-sheets and was rowed off to the Arcadia. 70 CHAPTEE VIII. A SOUTHERN PEARL. " Mariquita ! Ma— ri— kee— tah ! " A woman's voice, shrill and quavering, with an accent of anger that increased each time the summons was re- peated. " What's come of the young vixen ? " went on the speaker, addressing her husband, the Tio Pedro, who sat with her behind the counter of a small tobacconist's shop — an ugly beldame, shrunk and shrivelled, with grey elf-locks, sunk cheeks, and parchment complexion, looking ninety, yet little more than half that age. Women ripen early, are soon at their prime, and fade prematurely, under this quickening Southern sun. The husband was older, yet better preserved, than his wife — a large, stout man, with a fierce face and black, A SOUTHERN PEARL. 71 baleful eyes. All cowered before him except La Zan- dunga, as they called his wife here in Bombardier Lane. He was at her mercy — a Spaniard resident on the Rock by permit granted to his wife — a native of Gibraltar, and liable to be expelled at any time unless she answered for him. The shop and stock-in-trade were hers, not his, and she ruled him and the whole place. " Mariquita ! " she called again and again, till at length, overflowing with passion, she rushed from behind the counter into the premises at the back of the shop. She entered a small but well-lighted room, com- municating with a few square feet of garden. At the end was a low fence ; beyond this the roadway inter- vening between the garden and the Line wall, or sea- ward fortifications. La Zandunga looked hastily round the room. It con- tained half-a-dozen small low tables, drawn near the window and open door, and at these sat a posse of girls, busy with deft, nimble fingers, making cigarettes and cigars. These workpeople were under the immediate control of Mariquita, the mistress's niece. She was popular with them, evidently, for no one would answer when La Zandunga shrieked out an angry inquiry to each. No answer was needed. There was Mariquita at the end of the garden, gossiping across the fence with young Sergeant McKay. It was quite an accident, of course. The serjeant, n 2 THE THIN RED LINE. returning to his quarters from Waterport, had seen Mariquita within, and made her a signal she could not mistake. u I knew you would come out," he said, pleasantly, when she appeared, shy and shrinking, yet with a glad light in her eyes. <( Vaya ! what conceit ! I was seeking a flower in the garden," she answered demurely ; but her low voice and heightened colour plainly showed that she was ready to come to him whenever he called — to follow him, indeed, all over the world. She spoke in Spanish, with its high-flown epithets and exaggerated metaphor, a language in which Stanis- las McKay, from his natural aptitude and this charming tutorship, had made excellent progress. " My life, my jewel, my pearl ! " he cried. A pearl, indeed, incomparable and above price for all who could appreciate the charms and graces of bright blooming girlhood. Mariquita Hidalgo was still in her teens — a woman full grown, but with the frank, innocent face of a child. A slender figure, tall, but well-rounded and beautifully poised, having the free, elastic movement of her Spanish ancestors, whose women are the best walkers in the world. She had, too, the olive complexion as clear and transparent as wax, the full crimson lips, the magnifi- cent eyes, dark and lustrous, the indices of an ardent temperament capable of the deepest passion, the strongest love, or fiercest hate. A SOUTHERN PEARL. 73 A very gracious figure indeed was this splendid specimen of a handsome race, as she stood there coyly talking to the man of her choice. The contrast was strongly marked between them. She, with raven hair, dark skin, and soft brown eyes, was a perfect Southern brunette : quick, impatient, impulsive, easily moved. He, fresh-coloured, blue-eyed, with flaxen moustache, stalwart in frame, self-possessed, reserved, almost cold and impassive in demeanour, was as excellent a type of a native of the North. " What brings you this way, Senor don Sargentu, at this time of day ? " said Mariquita. " Was it to see me ? It was unwise, indiscreet ; my aunt " 1 ' I have been on duty at Waterport," replied McKay, with a rather ungallant frankness that made Mariquita pout. "It is plain I am only second in your thoughts. Duty — always duty. Why did not you come last night to the Alameda when the band played ? " " I could not, star of my soul ! I was on guard." "Did I not say so ? — duty again! And to-morrow ? It is Sunday ; you promised to take me to Europa to see the great cave. Is that, too, impossible ? " McKay shook his head laughingly, and said — " You must not be angry with me, Mariquita ; our visit to Europa must be deferred ; I am on duty every day. They have made me orderly " " I do not believe you," interrupted the girl, pet- 74 THE THIN RED LINE. tishly. " Go about your business ! Do not trouble to come here again, Don Stanislas. Benito will take me where I want to go. 1 ' 11 1 will break Benito's head whenever I catch him in your company/ 5 said the young serjeant, with so much energy that Mariquita was obliged to laugh. u Come, dearest, be more reasonable. It is not my fault, you know ; I am never happy away from your side. But, ' remember, I am a soldier, and must obey the orders I receive." " I was wrong to love a soldier," said Mariquita, growing sad and serious all at once. " Some day you will get orders to march — to India, Constantinople, Russia — where can any one say ? — and I shall never see you more." This trouble of parting near at hand had already arisen, and half-spoilt McKay's delight at the prospect of sailing for the East. " Do you think I shall ever forget you ? If I go, it will be to win promotion, fame — a better, higher, more honourable position for you to share." It was at this moment that La Zandunga interrupted the lovers with her resonant, unpleasant voice. " My aunt ! my aunt ! Run, Stanislas ! do not let her see you, in Heaven's name ! " The Serjeant disappeared promptly, but the old virago caught a glimpse of his retreating figure. " With whom were you gossiping there, good-for- A SOUTHERN PEARL. 75 nothing ? " cried La Zandunga, fiercely. " I seemed to catch, the colour of his coat. If I thought it was that son of Satan, the serjeant, who is ever philandering and following you about Who was it, I say ? " Mariquita would not answer. " In with you, shameless, idle daughter of pauper parents, who died in my debt, leaving you on my hands ! Is it thus that you repay me my bounty — the home I give you — the bread you eat ? Go in, jade, and earn it, or Fll put you into the street." The girl, bending submissively under this storm of invective and bitter reproach, walked slowly towards the house. Her aunt followed, growling fiercely. " Cursed red-coat ! — common, beggarly soldier ! How can you, an Hidalgo of the best blue blood, whose an- cestors were settled here before the English robbers stole the fortress — before the English ? — before the Moors ! You, an Hidalgo, to take up with a base-born hireling cut-throat " " No more, aunt ! " Mariquita turned on her with flashing eyes. " Call me what you like, you shall not abuse him — my affianced lover — the man to whom I have given my troth ! " u What ! " screamed the old crone, now furious with rage. a Do you dare tell me that — to my face ? Never, impudent huzzy — never, while I have strength and spirit and power to say you no — shall you wed this hated English mercenary — " I will wed no one else/'' 39 76 THE THIN RED LINE. "That will we see. Is not your hand promised )) " Not with my consent." " — Promised, formally, to Benito Yillegas — my hus- band's cousin ? " " I have not consented. Never shall I agree. Benito is a villain. I hate and detest him ! " " Tell him so to his face, evil-tongued slut ! — tell him if you daie ! He is now in the house. That is why I came to fetch you. I saw him approaching." " He knows my opinion of him, but if you wish it, aunt, he shall hear it again," said the young girl, undaunted ; and she walked on through the work- room, straight into the little shop. Benito was seated at the counter, talking confiden- tially, and in a very low voice, with Tio Pedro. " Are the bales ready, uncle ? In two days from now we can run them through like oil in a tube." " Have you settled the terms ? " (< On both sides. Here the inspectors were difficult, but I oiled their palms. On the other side the Custom- house officers are my friends. All is straight and easy. The tobacco must be shipped to-morrow " " In the same falucha ? " " Yes ; for Estepona. Be ready, then, at gunfire He stopped suddenly as Mariquita came in. " Beautiful as a star ! " was his greeting ; and in a fulsome, familiar tone he went on — " You are like the A SOUTHERN PEARL. 77 sun at noon, my beauty, and burn my heart with your bright eyes/' " Insolent ! " retorted Mariquita. " Hold your tongue/' " What ! cross-grained and out of humour, sweetest ? Come, sit here on my knee and listen, while I whisper some good news/' <( Unless you address me more decently, Benito Villegas, I shall not speak to you at all." " Good news ! what then ? " put in Tio Pedro, in a coaxing voice. " My fortune is made. I have found powerful friends here upon the Rock. Within a few days now, through their help, I shall be part owner of la Hermandad Stable ; and I can marry when I please." " Fortunate girl ! " said Tio Pedro, turning to Mariquita. " It does not affect me," replied the girl, with chil- ling contempt. "Had you the wealth of the Indies, Benito Villegas, and a dukedom to offer, you should never call me yours." Benito's face grew black as thunder at this unequi- vocal reply. " Don't mind her, my son," said the old man. " She has lost her senses : the evil one has bitten her." " Say, rather, one of those accursed red-coats," interposed his wife, " who has cast a spell over her. I thought I saw him at the garden just now. If I was only certain " 78 THE THIN RED LINE. " Silly girl, beware ! " cried Benito, with bitter meaning. (C I know him : hateful, despicable hound ! He is only trifling with you. He cares nothing for you ; you are not to his taste. What ! He, a Northern pale-faced boor, choose you, with your dark skin and black hair ! Never ! I know better. Only to-day I saw him with the woman he prefers — a fair beauty light-complexioned like himself." He had touched the Southern woman's most sen- sitive chord. Jealousy flashed from her eyes ; a pang of painful doubt shot through her, though she calmly answered — " It is not true." " Ask him yourself. I tell you I saw them together : first near our stables, and then down by Waterport — a splendid woman ! " Waterport ! Mc Kay had told her hft was returning from that part of the Rock. There was something in it, then. Was he playing her false ? No. She would trust him still.