. Go, nurse
yourself, and leave it to me; if anything may be done I can do it. Stay,
bid a messenger be ready. This evening I shall know whatever there is to
be known.'

That night Fonseca sent for me again.

'I have made inquiries,' he said. 'I have even warned the officers
of justice for the first time for many years, and they are hunting de
Garcia as bloodhounds hunt a slave. But nothing can be heard of him. He
has vanished and left no trace. To-night I write to Cadiz, for he may
have fled there down the river. One thing I have discovered, however.
The Senora Isabella was caught by the watch, and being recognised as
having escaped from a convent, she was handed over to the executories of
the Holy Office, that her case may be investigated, or in other words,
should her fault be proved, to death.'

'Can she be rescued?'

'Impossible. Had she followed my counsel she would never have been
taken.'

'Can she be communicated with?'

'No. Twenty years ago it might have been managed, now the Office is
stricter and purer. Gold has no power there. We shall never see or hear
of her again, unless, indeed, it is at the hour of her death, when,
should she choose to speak with me, the indulgence may possibly be
granted to her, though I doubt it. But it is not likely that she will
wish to do so. Should she succeed in hiding her disgrace, she may
escape; but it is not probable. Do not look so sad, nephew, religion
must have its sacrifices. Perchance it is better for her to die thus
than to live for many years dead in life. She can die but once. May her
blood lie heavy on de Garcia's head!'

'Amen!' I answered.

CHAPTER IX

THOMAS BECOMES RICH

For many months we heard no more of de Garcia or of Isabella de
Siguenza. Both had vanished leaving no sign, and we searched for them in
vain. As for me I fell back into my former way of life of assistant to
Fonseca, posing before the world as his nephew. But it came about that
from the night of my duel with the murderer, my master's health declined
steadily through the action of a wasting disease of the liver which
baffled all skill, so that within eight months of that time he lay
almost bedridden and at the point of death. His mind indeed remained
quite clear, and on occasions he would even receive those who came to
consult him, reclining on a chair and wrapped in his embroidered robe.
But the hand of death lay on him, and he knew that it was so. As the
weeks went by he gr