que,
on the other side. I do not know why! It is not usually so."

Don Enrique, turning, hurried to the first door and very slightly opened
it. A humming entered the large, quiet room. He closed the door. "The
Queen is coming up the great stair. The Archbishop of Granada is with
her and a whole train beside!" He spoke to the painter. "I have no
audience, and for reasons would not choose this moment as one in which
to encounter the least disfavor! I will stay here before your picture
and admire until landing and stairways are bare."

"If to be invisible is your desire," answered Manuel Rodriguez, "you
have walked into trouble! The Queen is coming here."

Don Enrique exclaimed. Juan Lepe turned eyes to the painter. The blue
eyes met mine--there rose the rushy pool, there dozed the broken boat.
Manuel Rodriguez spoke in his voice that was at once cool and fine and
dry and warm. "It is best to dare thoroughly! Perhaps I may help you--as
thus! Wishing to speak with Don Enrique of an altar painting for the
Church of Saint Dominic, I asked him here and he came. We talked, and
he will give the picture. Then, hearing the Queen's approach, he would
instantly have been gone, but alack, the small door is barred!--As for
fisherman yonder, few look at squire when knight is in presence!"

No time to debate his offer, which indeed was both wise and kind!
Chamberlains flung open the door. In came the Queen, with her the
Princess Juana and several of her ladies. Beside her walked Fernando de
Talavera, Her Highness's confessor, yesterday Bishop of Avila but now
Archbishop of Granada. Behind him moved two lesser ecclesiastics, and
with these Don Alonzo de Quintanella, Comptroller-General of Castile.
Others followed, nobles and cavaliers, two soberly clad men who looked
like secretaries, a Franciscan friar, three or four pages. The room was
large and had a table covered with a rich cloth, two great chairs and a
few lesser ones.

The painter and Don Enrique bent low to the Majesty of Castile. In the
background Juan Lepe made squire's obeisance. I was bearded and my face
stained with a Moorish stain, and I was in shadow; it was idle to fear
recognition that might never come. The Queen seated herself, and her
daughter beside her, and with her good smile motioned the Archbishop to
a chair. The two ecclesiastics, both venerable men, were given seats.
The rest of the company stood. The Queen's blue eyes rested on Don
Enrique. She spoke in a