A few days later, a cab drew up at the door of a hotel on the Puerto del Sol at Madrid, and from it alighted Frederick von Waldberg, in his latest role as Count Linska de Castillon.
Finding, however, the Spanish capital intolerably hot and dismally empty, he soon turned his steps northward again, and took up his residence in the pretty seaport town of St. Sebastien, which is the most fashionable bathing-place on the Peninsula. It was crowded at the time with all the cream of Spanish society; and Frederick, with his ordinary skill and savoir faire, soon became acquainted with all the best people there, including a clique of gay young clubmen, who turned the night into day, and gambled, danced, flirted, and drank, with untiring energy.
Frederick's passion for cards soon revived in all its intensity in this vortex of dissipation, and he seldom left the “Salon de Jeu” of the Casino before the small hours of the morning. At first he won a great deal, but soon his luck began to fail him, and at the end of three weeks he discovered, to his disgust, that he had left on the green baize of the card-table a sum of over 150,000 francs.
“This has got to stop,” muttered he, angrily, “or I shall soon be running down hill at a rapid pace. The question is, how can I stop now without arousing comment?”
At the beginning of his stay in St. Sebastien, he had been introduced by a young Madrilene, who was staying at the same hotel, to a charming family, composed of the father, an old Spanish grandee; the mother, who had been a [Pg 181] beauty, and their lovely daughter, Dolores. Don Garces y Marcilla was evidently a wealthy man, and occupied a luxuriously appointed villa on the sea-shore. Frederick soon began to be a constant visitor at this house, and his attentions to the fair Dolores were so marked that they became the talk of the beau-monde of St. Sebastien. Dolores was a remarkably dashing and handsome girl, with fiery black eyes and raven tresses. Her complexion was dark, and her lips were of the vivid crimson of a pomegranate flower. She was evidently very much in love with Frederick, and he had but little doubt that he would be accepted if he chose to ask her to be his wife.
For him this marriage presented many advantages. To begin with, it would open wide to him the doors of the Spanish aristocracy. The Garces y Marcilla prided themselves on being able to trace their descent from the kings of Aragon, and were high up on the social ladder. Then, there was also the question of money. Frederick had found out that Dolores would not only receive on her wedding-day a dowry of 200,000 francs—not a big sum in itself, although in Spain it is considered quite large—but that, Don Garces y Marcilla being a rich man, she would further inherit a fortune at his death. Since he had lost all hopes of obtaining the hand of Lady Margaret, a marriage with the daughter of Don Garces seemed to him to be the most advantageous to his interests.
Still undecided, however, as to the course he should adopt, he one morning directed his steps toward the Garces villa, with the object of inviting the whole family to a dinner which he proposed giving, some days later, for the purpose of returning in some measure the courtesy and hospitality with which they had received him.
As it was near midday, all the servants were down below at luncheon, and his approach was unnoticed. Walking along the veranda, he soon came to the long French windows [Pg 182] of the drawing-room, and, peeping in between the half-closed blinds, he saw Dolores, who, stretched on an oriental divan, was smoking a cigarette. There was but little light in the corner of the room where she reclined, but he could plainly distinguish the outline of her voluptuous form in its soft loose white wrapper, and the gleam of the rings on her small hands. Her great black eyes seemed positively to glow in the semi-darkness as she looked up at the rings of blue smoke that floated through the air.
Frederick's heart began to beat faster. He vaguely felt that his hour of fate had come.
They were as completely alone as if they had been in a desert. No one of the household would have dared to approach that room without a summons from her. A nightingale was singing in the Cape jasmine which wreathed the veranda. Gently he pushed open the casement of the window, and stepped into the room. She raised herself on her elbow, and, flinging her half-finished cigarette into a silver tray on the table, stretched out her hand to him, saying, in her low, melodious voice:
“This is a surprise. I am glad to see you.”
“Is it really so?” murmured he, bending over the small, cool hand, which he retained in his own, prolonging the fleeting moments with irresistible pleasure. Every gesture, glance, and breath of this girl allured him; a swift and wicked temptation flashed through his brain. He knew that she loved him, and that she was at his mercy. A shudder passed over him, and before he knew what he was about he had wound his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. It was but a second, and then he thrust her away from him. She gave him a look of such intense surprise and pain, that, dropping on one knee before her, he murmured, in a voice which still shook with suppressed passion:
“Dona Dolores, will you be my wife?”
[Pg 183]
Three weeks later, on the first of November, 1879, at the Church of Santa Maria, the marriage of Dona Dolores Garces y Marcella with Count Linska de Castillon was celebrated w............