"I addressed to him," Fray Sebastian continued with becoming modesty, "a little effort of my Muse--really a mere trifle--on the suppression of heresy, comparing the Lord Inquisitor to Michael the archangel, with the dragon beneath his feet. You understand, señor?"
Juan understood so well that it was with difficulty he refrained from flinging the unlucky rhymester into the river. But of late he had learned many a lesson in prudence. Still, his words sounded almost fierce in their angry scorn. "I suppose he gave you in return--a good dinner."
But Fray Sebastian would not take offence. He answered mildly, "He was pleased to express his approval of my humble effort, and to admit me into his noble household; where, except my poor exertions to amuse and untire him by my conversation may be accounted a service, I am of no service to him whatever."
"So you are clad in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day," said Juan, with contempt that he cared not to conceal.
"As to purple and fine linen, señor, I am an unworthy son of St. Francis; and it is well known to your Excellency that by the rules of our Order not even one scrap of holland---- But you are laughing at me, as you used in old times, Señor Don Juan."
"God knows, I have little heart to laugh. In those old times you speak of, Fray, there was no great love between you and me; and no marvel, for I was a wild and idle lad. But I think you loved my gentle brother, Don Carlos!"
"That I did, señor, as did every one. Has any evil come upon him? St. Francis forbid!"
"Worse evil than I care to name. He lies in yonder tower."
"The blessed Virgin have pity on us!" cried Fray Sebastian, crossing himself.
"I thought you would have heard of his arrest," Juan continued, sadly.