"What will it ever matter, since we know it is not true?" she asked.
"Let the world think what it will, say what it likes--"

"The world shall never say a slighting word of you," he interrupted. "Do
you think that I will let the world say openly what I would not hear
from the King alone between these four walls? There is no fear of that,
love. I will die sooner."

"Oh, no!" she cried, in sudden fear. "Oh, do not speak of death again
to-night! I cannot bear the word!"

"Of life, then, of life together,--of all our lives in peace and love!
But first this must be set right. It is late, but this must be done
now--at once. There is only one way, there is only one thing to be
done."

He was silent for a moment, and his eyes looked quickly to the door and
back to Dolores' face.

"I cannot go away," she cried, nestling to him. "You will not make me
go? What does it matter?"

"It matters much. It will matter much more hereafter." He was on his
feet, and all his energy and graceful strength came back as if he had
received no hurt. "There is little time left, but what there is, is
ours. Inez!" He was at the door. "Is no one there upon the terrace? Is
there no servant, no sentry? Ho, there! Who are you? Come here, man! Let
me see your face! Adonis?"

Inez and the dwarf were in the door. Dolores was behind him, looking
out, not knowing what he meant to do. He had his hand on the dwarf's arm
in his haste. The crooked creature looked up, half in fear.

"Quick! Go!" cried Don John. "Get me a priest, a monk, a
bishop,--anything that wears a frock and can speak Latin. Bring him
here. Threaten his life, in my name, if you like. Tell him Don John of
Austria is in extreme need, and must have a priest. Quick, man! Fly!
Your life and fortune are in your legs! Off, man! Off!"

Adonis was already gone, rolling through the gloom with swinging arms,
more like a huge bat than anything human, and at a rate of speed none
would have guessed latent in his little twisted legs. Don John drew back
within the door.

"Stay within," he said to Dolores, gently pressing her backwards into
the room. "I will let no one pass till the priest comes; and then the
world may come, too, and welcome,--and the court and the King, and the
devil and all his angels!" He laughed aloud in his excitement.

"You have not told me," Dolores began, but her eyes laughed in his.

"But you know without words," he answered. "When that is done which a
priest can do in a