"It is only a scratch," he said, with an accent of indifference. "Help me to the chair, my dear."
"Where?" she asked. "I do not know the room."
"One forgets that you are blind," he answered, with a smile, and leaning heavily upon her, he led her by his weight, till he could touch the chair in which he had sat reading Dolores" letter when the King had entered an hour earlier.
He sat down with a sigh of relief, and stretched first one leg and then the other, and leaned back with half-closed eyes.
"Where is Dolores?" he asked at last. "Why did she go away?"
"The jester took her away, I think," answered Inez. "I found them together on the terrace. She was trying to come back to you, but he prevented her. They thought you were dead."
"That was wise of him." He spoke faintly still, and when he opened his eyes, the room swam with him. "And then?"
"Then I told her what had happened at court; I had heard everything from the gallery. And Dolores went down alone. I could not understand what she was going to do, but she is trying to save our father."
"Your father!" Don John looked at her in surprise, forgetting his hurt, but it was as if some one had struck his head again, and he closed his eyes. "What has happened?" he asked faintly. "Try and tell me. I do not understand."
"My father thought he had killed you," answered Inez, in surprise. "He came into the great hall when the King was there, and he cried out in a loud voice that he had killed you, unarmed."
"Your father?" He forgot his suffering altogether now. "Your father was not even in the room when--when I fell! And did the King say nothing?
Tell me quickly!"
"There was a great uproar, and I ran away to find Dolores. I do not know what happened afterwards."
Don John turned painfully in his chair and lifted his hand to the back of his head. But he said nothing at first, for he was beginning to understand, and he would not betray the secret of his accident even to Inez.
"I knew he could not have done it! I thought he was mad--he most have been! But I also thought your Highness was dead."
"Dear child!" Don John"s voice was very kind. "You brought me to life.
Your father was not here. It was some one else who hurt me. Do you think you could find Dolores or send some one to tell her--to tell every one that I am alive? Say that I had a bad fall and was stunned for a while.
Never mind the scratch--it is nothing--do not speak of it. If you could find Adonis, he could go."
He groaned now, for the pain of speaking was almost intolerable. Inez put out her hand towards him.
"Does it hurt very much?" she asked, with a sort of pathetic, childlike sympathy.
"Yes, my head hurts, but I shall not faint. There is something to drink by the bed, I think--on this side. If you could only find it. I cannot walk there yet, I am so giddy."
"Some one is coming!" exclaimed Inez, instead of answering him. "I hear some one on the terrace. Hark!" she listened with bent head. "It is Adonis. I know his step. There he is!"
Almost as she spoke the last words the dwarf was in the doorway. He stood still, transfixed with astonishment.
"Mercy of heaven!" he exclaimed devoutly. "His Highness is alive after all!"
"Yes," said Inez, in a glad tone. "The Prince was only stunned by the fall. Go and tell Dolores--go out and tell every one--bring every one here to me!"
"No!" cried Don John. "Try and bring Dona Dolores alone, and let no one else know. The rest can wait."
"But your Highness needs a physician," protested the dwarf, not yet recovered from his astonishment. "Your Highness is wounded, and must therefore be bled at once. I will call the Doctor Galdos--"
"I tell you it is nothing," interrupted Don John. "Do as I order you, and bring Dona Dolores. Give me that drink there, first--from the little table. In a quarter of an hour I shall be quite well again. I have been as badly stunned before when my horse has fallen with me at a barrier."
The jester swung quickly to the table, in his awkward, bow-legged gait, and brought the beaker that stood there. Don John drank eagerly, for his lips were parched with pain.
"Go!" he said imperatively. "And come back quickly."
"I will go," said Adonis. "But I may not come back quickly, for I believe that Dona Dolores is with his Majesty at this moment, or with her father, unless the three are together. Since it has pleased your Highness not to remain dead, it would have been much simpler not to die at all, for your Highness"s premature death has caused trouble which your Highness"s premature resurrection may not quickly set right."
"The sooner you bring Dona Dolores, the sooner the tremble will be over," said Don John. "Go at once, and do your best."
Adonis rolled away, shaking his head and almost touching the floor with his hands as he walked.
"So the Last Trumpet is not merely another of those priests" tales!" he muttered. "I shall meet Don Carlos on the terrace, and the Emperor in the corridor, no doubt! They might give a man time to confess his sins.
It was unnecessary that the end of the world should come so suddenly!"
The last words of his jest were spoken to himself, for he was already outside when he uttered them, and he had no intention of wasting time in bearing the good news to Dolores. The difficulty was to find her. He had been a witness of the scene in the hall from the balcony, and he guessed that when she left the hall with Ruy Gomez she would go either to her father or the King. It would not be an easy matter to see her, and it was by no means beyond the bounds of possibility that he might be altogether hindered from doing so, unless he at once announced to every one he met the astounding fact that Don John was alive after all. He was strongly tempted to do that, without waiting, for it seemed by far the most sensible thing to do in the disturbed state of the court; but it was his business to serve and amuse many masters, and his office, if not his life, depended upon obeying each in turn and finding the right jest for each. He placed the King highest, of course, among those he had to please, and before he had gone far in the corridor he slackened his pace to give himself time to think over the situation. Either the King had meant to kill Don John himself, or he had ordered Mendoza to do so. That much was clear to any one who had known the secret of Don Carlos" death, and the dwarf had been one of the last who had talked with the unfortunate Prince before that dark tragedy. And on this present night he had seen everything, and knew more of the thoughts of each of the actors in the drama than any one else, so that he had no doubt as to his conclusions. If, then, the King had wished to get rid of Don John, he would be very much displeased to learn that the latter was alive after all. It would not be good to be the bearer of that news, and it was more than likely that Philip would let Mendoza go to the scaffold for the attempt, as he long afterwards condemned Antonio Perez to death for the murder of Escobedo, Don John"s secretary, though he himself had ordered Perez to do that deed; as he had already allowed the ecclesiastic Doctor Cazalla to be burned alive, though innocent, rather than displease the judges who had condemned him. The dwarf well knew that there was no crime, however monstrous, of which Philip was not capable, and of the righteous necessity of which he could not persuade himself if he chose.
Nothing could possibly be more dangerous than to stand between him and the perpetration of any evil he considered politically necessary, except perhaps to hinder him in the pursuit of his gloomy and secret pleasures.
Adonis decided at once that he would not be the means of enlightening the King on the present occasion. He most go to some one else. The second person in command of his life, and whom he dreaded most after Philip himself, was the Princess of Eboli.
He knew her secret, too, as he had formerly known how she had forged the letters that brought about the deaths of Don Carlos and of Queen Isabel; for the Princess ruled him by fear, and knew that she could trust him as long as he stood in terror of her. He knew, therefore, that she had not only forgiven Don John for not yielding to her charm in former days, but that she now hoped that he might ascend the throne in Philip"s stead, by fair means or foul, and that the news of his death must have been a destructive blow to her hopes. He made up his mind to tell her first that he was alive, unless he could get speech with Dolores alone, which seemed improbable. Having decided this, he hastened his walk again.
Before he reached the lower story of the palace he composed his face to an expression of solemnity, not to say mourning, for he remembered that as no one knew the truth but himself, he must not go about with too gay a look. In the great vestibule of the hall he found a throng of courtiers, talking excitedly in low tones, but neither Dolores nor Ruy Gomez was there. He sidled up to a tall officer of the guards who was standing alone, looking on.
"Could you inform me, sir," he asked, "what became of Dona Dolores de Mendoza when she left the hall with the Prince of Eboli?"
The officer looked down at the dwarf, with whom he had never spoken before, but who, in his way, was considered to be a personage of importance by the less exalted members of the royal household. Indeed, Adonis was by no means given to making acquaintance at haphazard with all those who wished to know him in the hope that he might say a good word for them when the King was in a pleasant humour.
"I do not know, Master Adonis," answered the magnificent lieutenant, very politely. "But if you wish it, I will enquire."
"You are most kind and courteous, sir," answered the dwarf ceremoniously. "I have a message for the lady."
The officer turned away and went towards the King"s apartments, leaving the jester in the corner. Adonis knew that he might wait some time before his informant returned, and he shrank into the shadow to avoid attracting attention. That was easy enough, so long as the crowd was moving and did not diminish, but before long he heard some one speaking within the hall, as if addressing a number of persons at once, and the others began to leave the vestibule in order to hear what was pa.s.sing.
Though the light did not fall upon him directly, the dwarf, in his scarlet dress, became a conspicuous object. Yet he did not dare to go away, for fear of missing the officer when the latter should return. His anxiety to escape observation was not without cause, since he really wished to give Don John"s message to Dolores before any one else knew the truth. In a few moments he saw the Princess of Eboli coming towards him, leaning on the arm of the Duke of Medina Sidonia. She came from the hall as if she had been listening to the person who was still speaking near the door, and her handsome face wore a look of profound dejection and disappointment. She had evidently seen the dwarf, for she walked directly towards him, and at half a dozen paces she stopped and dismissed her companion, who bowed low, kissed the tips of her fingers, and withdrew.
Adonis drew down the corners of his mouth, bent his head still lower, and tried to look as unhappy as possible, in imitation of the Princess"s expression. She stood still before him, and spoke briefly in imperious tones.
"What is the meaning of all this?" she asked. "Tell me the truth at once. It will be the better for you."
"Madam," answered Adonis, with all the a.s.surance he could muster, "I think your Excellency knows the truth much better than I."
The Princess bent her black brows and her eyes began to gleam angrily.
t.i.tian would not have recognized in her stern face the smiling features of his portrait of her--of the insolently beautiful Venus painted by order of King Philip when the Princess was in the height of his favour.
"My friend," she said, in a mocking tone, "I know nothing, and you know everything. At the present moment your disappearance from the court will not attract even the smallest attention compared with the things that are happening. If you do not tell me what you know, you will not be here to-morrow, and I will see that you are burned alive for a sorcerer next week. Do you understand? Now tell me who killed Don John of Austria, and why. Be quick, I have no time to lose."
Adonis made up his mind very suddenly that it would be better to disobey Don John than the angry woman who was speaking to him.
"n.o.body killed him," he answered bluntly.