ior, the lordly Abbot
of the Franciscans was indeed but a nominal dignitary, quite contented
to enjoy all the indulgences and corporeal luxuries, permitted, or
perhaps winked at, from his superior rank, and leaving to Father
Francis every active duty; gladly, therefore, he deputed on him
the office of heading the Monks that day summoned to attend King
Ferdinand.

Not any sign of the benevolence and goodness--in reality the
characteristics of this extraordinary man--was visible on his
countenance as he sat. The very boldest and haughtiest of the
aristocracy, involuntarily perhaps, yet irresistibly, acknowledged his
superiority. Reverence and awe were the emotions first excited towards
his person: but already was that reverence largely mingled with
the love which some three years afterwards gave him such powerful
influence over the whole sovereignty of Spain. Next to the holy
fathers, and ranged according to rank and seniority, were the nobles
who had been selected to attend, the greater number of whom, were
Castilians, as countrymen of the deceased. Next to them were the
Santa Hermandad, or Brethren of the Associated Cities, without whose
presence and aid, no forms of justice, even though ruled and guided by
royalty itself, were considered valid or complete. A semicircle was
thus formed, the centre of which was the King's seat; and opposite to
him, in the hollow, as it were of the crescent, a space left for the
prisoner, accusers, and witnesses. Soldiers lined the hall; a treble
guard being drawn up at the base of the semicircle, and extending in a
wide line right and left, behind the spot destined for the prisoner.
There was still a large space left, and this was so thronged with
citizens, that it presented the appearance of a dense mass of human
heads, every face turned in one direction, and expressive in various
ways of but one excitement, one emotion.

There was not a smile on either of the stern countenances within the
hall. As the shock and horror of Don Ferdinand's fate in some measure
subsided, not only the nobles, but the soldiers themselves, began to
recall the supposed murderer in the many fields of honorable warfare,
the many positions of mighty and chivalric bearing in which they had
hitherto seen the young Englishman play so distinguished a part; and
doubts began to arise as to the possibility of so great a change, and
in so short a time. To meet even a supposed enemy in fair field,
and with an equality