easy to find Dona Dolores."

"It is impossible. Did you expect to find her by waiting in this corner!
Adonis, it is safer for you to serve me than Don John, and in serving me
you will help his interests. You know that. Listen to me--Dona Dolores
must believe him dead till to-morrow morning. She must on no account
find out that he is alive."

At that moment the officer who had offered to get information for the
dwarf returned. Seeing the latter in conversation with such a great
personage, he waited at a little distance.

"If you have found out where Dona Dolores de Mendoza is at this moment,
my dear sir," said Adonis, "pray tell the Princess of Eboli, who is very
anxious to know."

The officer bowed and came nearer.

"Dona Dolores de Mendoza is in his Majesty's inner apartment," he said.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XX

Dolores and Ruy Gomez had passed through the outer vestibule, and he
left her to pursue his way towards the western end of the Alcazar, which
was at a considerable distance from the royal apartments. Dolores went
down the corridor till she came to the niche and the picture before
which Don John had paused to read the Princess of Eboli's letter after
supper. She stopped a moment, for she suddenly felt that her strength
was exhausted and that she must rest or break down altogether. She
leaned her weight against the elaborately carved railing that shut off
the niche like a shrine, and looked at the painting, which was one of
Raphael's smaller masterpieces, a Holy Family so smoothly and delicately
painted that it jarred upon her at that moment as something untrue and
out of all keeping with possibility. Though most perfectly drawn and
coloured, the spotlessly neat figures with their airs of complacent
satisfaction seemed horribly out of place in the world of suffering she
was condemned to dwell in, and she fancied, somewhat irreverently and
resentfully, that they would look as much out of keeping with their
surroundings in a heaven that must be won by the endurance of pain.
Their complacent smiles seemed meant for her anguish, and she turned
from the picture in displeasure, and went on.

She was going back to her sister on the terrace, and she was going to
kneel once more beside the dear head of the man she had loved, and to
say one last prayer before his face was covered for ever. At the thought
she felt that she needed no rest again, for the vision drew her to the
s