To him she jeers: “That would make it easy for you. When I came to I would be bereft. No, I’ll not faint while he lives—water!”
This Alva would bring her, but starting, she motions him away and shudders: “Not from your hands; my maid, Alida—quick!”
On this the Moorish girl, who is looking on, a strange pathetic interest in her face, comes to her bringing a goblet.
As Hermoine drinks she whispers: “To the landing, call them on—boats—the English boats!”
A quick look of intelligence flies over the subtle Moorish face, and Alida, bearing the goblet with her, steps out of the apartment.
This the Duke sees not. After his daughter has shuddered from him he has turned away and pressed his hand upon his heart, his face working strangely.
From this on he does not seem to wish to look upon his child, who now comes with all her soul to delay, if she cannot change, her father’s purpose.
In this she is strangely aided by an enemy; the Countess de Pariza comes laughing in and giggles, viciously: “You are going to burn him by the slow fire, he is a heretic.”
“Heretic in your teeth, hag,” cries Chester, “I am as good a Catholic as my lord of Alva himself.” And memory of his God coming over him with coming doom, he begins to tell his beads.
“A Catholic,” laughs Alva harshly, “as good as I? And raise thy hand against the King of Spain!” [[261]]