ignorant of her relations with the
King.

He was not at all surprised when Dolores told him at the door that
Philip knew the truth about the supposed murder, but he saw how
dangerous it might be for Dolores to say as much to others of the court.
She wished to go away alone, as she had come, but he insisted on going
with her.

"You must see his Majesty," he said authoritatively. "I will try to
arrange it at once. And I entreat you to be discreet, my dear, for your
father's sake, if not for any other reason. You have said too much
already. It was not wise of you, though it showed amazing courage. You
are your father's own daughter in that--he is one of the bravest men I
ever knew in my life."

"It is easy to be brave when one is dead already!" said Dolores, in low
tones.

"Courage, my dear, courage!" answered the old Prince, in a fatherly
tone, as they went along. "You are not as brave as you think, since you
talk of death. Your life is not over yet."

"There is little left of it. I wish it were ended already."

She could hardly speak, for an inevitable and overwhelming reaction had
followed on the great effort she had made. She put out her hand and
caught her companion's arm for support. He led her quickly to the small
entrance of the King's apartments, by which it was his privilege to pass
in. They reached a small waiting-room where there were a few chairs and
a marble table, on which two big wax candles were burning. Dolores sank
into a seat, and leaned back, closing her eyes, while Ruy Gomez went
into the antechamber beyond and exchanged a few words with the
chamberlain on duty. He came back almost immediately.

"Your father is alone with the King," he said. "We must wait."

Dolores scarcely heard what he said, and did not change her position nor
open her eyes. The old man looked at her, sighed, and sat down near a
brazier of wood coals, over which he slowly warmed his transparent
hands, from time to time turning his rings slowly on his fingers, as if
to warm them, too. Outside, the chamberlain in attendance walked slowly
up and down, again and again passing the open door, through which he
glanced at Dolores' face. The antechamber was little more than a short,
broad corridor, and led to the King's study. This corridor had other
doors, however, and it was through it that the King's private rooms
communicated with the hall of the royal apartments.

As Ruy Gomez had learned, Mendoza was with Philip, but not a