secret that you must die for it, and never tell it? Oh, father, father!
Are you sure--quite sure?"

"He was dead already when I came into the room," Mendoza answered. "I
did not even see him hurt."

"But then--yes--then"--her voice sank to a whisper--"then it was the
King!"

He saw the words on her lips rather than heard them, and she saw in his
face that she was right. She dropped his hand and threw her arms round
his neck, pressing her bosom to his breastplate; and suddenly her love
for him awoke, and she began to know how she might have loved him if she
had known him through all the years that were gone.

"It cannot be that he will let you die!" she cried softly. "You shall
not die!" she cried again, with sudden strength, and her light frame
shook his as if she would wrench him back from inevitable fate.

"My little girl," he answered, most tenderly clasping her to him, and
most thoughtfully, lest his armour should hurt her, "I can die happy
now, for I have found all of you again."

"You shall not die! You shall not die!" she cried. "I will not let you
go--they must take me, too--"

"No power can save me now, my darling," he answered. "But it does not
matter, since you know. It will be easy now."

She could only hold him with her small hands, and say over and over
again that she would not let him go.

"Ah! why have you never loved me before in all these years?" he cried.
"It was my fault--all my fault."

"I love you now with all my heart," she answered, "and I will save you,
even from the King; and you and I and Inez will go far away, and you two
shall comfort me and love me till I go to him."

Mendoza shook his head sadly, looking over her shoulder as he held her,
for he knew that there was no hope now. Had he known, or half guessed,
but an hour or two ago, he would have turned on his heel from the door
of Don John's chamber, and he would have left the King to bear the blame
or shift it as he could.

"It is too late, Dolores. God bless you, my dear, dear child! It will
soon be over--two days at most, for the people will cry out for the
blood of Don John's murderer; and when they see mine they will be
satisfied. It is too late now. Good-by, my little girl, good-by! The
blessing of all heaven be on your dear head!"

Dolores nestled against him, as she had never done before, with the
feeling that she had found something that had been wanting in her life,
at the very moment when the world, with all it he