ng. He threw sand upon it to dry the ink, and then poured the
grains back into the silver sandbox, glanced at the paper and held it
out to Dolores without a word. His other hand slipped along the table to
a silver bell, used for calling his private attendants, but the girl saw
the movement and instinctively suspected his treachery. He meant her to
come to the table, when he would ring the bell and then catch her and
hold her by main force till help came. Her faculties were furiously
awake under the strain she bore, and outran his slow cunning.

"If you ring that bell, I will open," she said imperiously. "I must have
the paper here, where I am safe, and I must read it myself before I
shall be satisfied."

"You are a terrible woman," said the King, but she did not like his
smile as he came towards her, holding out the document.

She took it from his hand, keeping her eyes on his, for something told
her that he would try to seize her and draw her from the door while she
was reading it. For some seconds they faced each other in silence, and
she knew by his determined attitude that she was right, and that it
would not be safe to look down. She wondered why he did not catch her in
his arms as she stood, and then she realized that her free hand was on
the latch of the door, and that he knew it. She slowly turned the
handle, and drew the door to her, and she saw his face fall. She moved
to one side so that she could have sprung out if he had tried violence,
and then at last she allowed her eyes to glance at the paper. It was in
order and would be obeyed; she saw that, at a glance, for it said that
Don Diego de Mendoza was to be set at liberty instantly and
unconditionally.

"I humbly thank your Majesty, and take my leave," she said, throwing the
door wide open and curtseying low.

A chamberlain who had seen the door move on its hinges stepped in to
shut it, for it opened inward. The King beckoned him in, and closed it,
but before it was quite shut, he heard Dolores' voice.

"Don Ruy Gomez," she was saying, "this is an order to set my father at
liberty unconditionally and at once. I do not know to whom it should be
given. Will you take it for me and see to it?"

"I will go to the west tower myself," he said, beginning to walk with
her. "Such good news is even better when a friend brings it."

"Thank you. Tell him from me that he is safe, for his Majesty has told
me that he knows the whole truth. Will you do that? You hav