quite
certain.

No sooner was it done than they dispersed, whilst the lackey Rubio,
instantly quitting Madrid, brought me news of the deed to Alcala, and
the assurance that no arrests had been made. But there was a great ado
in Madrid upon the morrow, as you may imagine, for it is no everyday
occurrence to find a royal secretary murdered in the streets.

The alcaldes set out upon a rigorous search, and they began by arresting
and questioning all who attempted to leave the city. On the next day
they harassed with their perquisitions all those who let lodgings.
They were still at this work in the evening when I returned to Madrid,
brought back--as it would seem--from my country rest by the news of this
murder of my friend and colleague. I bore myself as I should have done
had I no knowledge of how the thing had been contrived. That was a
necessity as imperative as it was odious, and no part of it more odious
than the visit of condolence I was forced to pay to the Escovedo family,
which I found plunged in grief.

From the very outset suspicion pointed its finger at me, although there
were no visible traces to connect me with the deed. Rumour, however,
was astir, and as I had powerful friends, so, too, I had the powerful
enemies which envy must always be breeding for men in high places
such as mine. Escovedo's wife mistrusted me, though at first she seems
equally to have suspected in this deed the hand of the Duke of Alva, who
was hostile to Don John and all his creatures. Very soon, as a result of
this, came the Court alcalde to visit and question me. His stated object
was in the hope that I might give him information which would lead to
the discovery of the assassin; but his real object, rendered apparent
by the searching, insistent nature of his questions, was to lead me
to incriminate myself. I presented a bold front. I pretended to see in
this, perhaps, the work of the Flemish States. I deplored--that I might
remind him of it--my absence from Madrid at the time.

He was followed by another high official, who came in simulated
friendship to warn me that certain rumours linking me with the deed were
in circulation, in reality to trap me into some admission, to watch my
countenance for some betraying sign.

I endured it stoutly, but inwardly I was shaken, as I wrote to Philip,
giving him full details of what had been said and what answers I had
returned, what bitter draughts I had been forced to swallow.

He wrote