ble beast of a woman. She was in correspondence
with her sister in England, a Mrs. Russell, whom she kept urging to
come on and take Katie away from Spain. This Mrs. Westlotorn had
induced her husband before his death to appoint Russell, her sister's
husband, Katie's guardian, and it was this Russell and his wife whom,
she expected on, but they could not get away very easily. After a
time Mrs. Westlotorn decided to move to Madrid, which she thought
would be a pleasanter residence. So about three months ago she made
the move, and after that Katie and I saw as much of one another as we
wished, and she became regularly engaged to me."

"So the step-mother approved, did she?"

"Oh, altogether!"

"Well, what's the trouble?"

"Oh, this infernal Russell, the guardian, you know! As soon as he
came on, he and his wife began to make trouble, and tried to break up
the engagement; they also tried to keep me away from the house. Then
there was another difficulty: they allowed some Spanish blackguards
to get acquainted with them. Mrs. Westlotorn, the widow, you know, is
hot-and-heavy in the chase of a husband, and thought that all the
young fellows who came after Katie were after her. The worst of them
was a chap named Lopez, who calls himself a captain in the Spanish
army--a poor, pitiful beggar whom I shall have to horsewhip. And,
by-the-bye, that reminds me--I expect to be called out to-morrow or
next day."

"Called out? how?"

"Oh, by this pitiful fellow Lopez;" and Ashby related the incident at
the Madrid station.

"By Jove!" said Harry, "this is lucky. I'm glad I came upon you at
such a time. You won't have to trust to a bungling Spaniard to be
your second."

"The worst of it is," said Ashby, "I believe that this Russell is one
of the most infernal villains that ever lived, and that he is
concocting some scheme against Katie."

"A scheme! how?"

"Well, I'll tell you. I saw from the first that he was hostile to me.
Possibly this may have been my own fault, for I saw the fellow was a
beastly cad, not at all fit to be Katie's guardian. Why, he's a
tailor! think of that--a tailor! that's all he is. By Jove! only
think--a tailor! and Katie's guardian! Do you suppose I was going to
stand any nonsense from a tailor?"

"By Jove! no--not unless you're deep in his books," said Harry; "and
even then, when you're away from home you ought to be a free man. So
you rather slighted the guardian, did you?"

"Well, I told him t