was dead, it would be believed by every one in the
palace that the King had killed him or had caused him to be murdered.
But if Mendoza took the blame upon himself, the court would believe him,
for many knew of Dolores' love for Don John, and knew also how bitterly
the old soldier was opposed to their marriage, on the ground that it
would be no marriage at all, but his daughter's present ruin. There was
no one else in the palace who could accuse himself of the murder and who
would be believed to have done it without the King's orders, and Mendoza
knew this, when he offered his life to shield Philip's honour. Philip
knew it, too, and while he wondered at the old man's simple devotion, he
accepted it without protest, as his vast selfishness would have
permitted the destruction of all mankind, that it might be satisfied and
filled.

He looked once more at the motionless body at his feet, and once more at
the faithful old man. Then he bent his head with condescending gravity,
as if he were signifying his pleasure to receive kindly, for the giver's
sake, a gift of little value.

"So be it," he said slowly.

Mendoza bowed his head, too, as if in thanks, and then taking up the
long dark cloak which the King had thrown off on entering, he put it
upon Philip's shoulders, and went before him to the door. And Philip
followed him without looking back, and both went out upon the terrace,
leaving both doors ajar after them. They exchanged a few words more as
they walked slowly in the direction of the corridor.

"It is necessary that your Majesty should return at once to the throne
room, as if nothing had happened," said Mendoza. "Your Majesty should be
talking unconcernedly with some ambassador or minister when the news is
brought that his Highness is dead."

"And who shall bring the news?" asked Philip calmly, as if he were
speaking to an indifferent person.

"I will, Sire," answered Mendoza firmly.

"They will tear you in pieces before I can save you," returned Philip,
in a thoughtful tone.

"So much the better. I shall die for my King, and your Majesty will be
spared the difficulty of pardoning a deed which will be unpardonable in
the eyes of the whole world."

"That is true," said the King meditatively. "But I do not wish you to
die, Mendoza," he added, as an afterthought. "You must escape to France
or to England."

"I could not make my escape without your Majesty's help, and that would
soon be known. It would then