But here he was stronger than they. Neither arts, persuasions, threats, nor promises, availed to unseal those pale, silent lips. Would torture do it? He was told plainly, that unless he would answer every question put to him freely and distinctly, he must undergo its worst horrors.
His heart throbbed wildly, then grew sick and faint. A dread far keener than the dread of death prompted one short sharp struggle against the inevitable. He said, "It is against your own law to torture a confessed criminal for information concerning others. For the law presumes that a man loves himself better than his neighbour; and, therefore, that he who has informed against himself would more readily inform against other heretics if he knew them."
He was right. His early studies had enabled him to quote correctly one of the rules laid down by the highest authority for the regulation of the inquisitorial proceedings. But what mattered rules and canons to the members of a secret and irresponsible tribunal?
Munebrãga covered his momentary embarrassment with a sneer. "That rule was framed for delinquents of another sort," he said. "You Lutheran heretics have the command, 'Thou shall love thy neighbour as thyself,' so deeply rooted in your hearts, that the very flesh must needs be torn from your bones ere you will inform against your brethren.[#] I overrule your objection as frivolous."
[#] Words actually used by this monster.
And then a sentence, more dreaded than the terrible death-sentence itself, received the formal sanction of the Board.
Once more alone in his cell, Carlos flung himself on his knees, and pressing his burning brow against the cold damp stone, cried aloud in his anguish, "Let this cup--only this--pass from me!"
His was just the nature to which the thought of physical suffering is most appalling. Keenly sensitive in mind and body, he shrank in unspeakable dread from what stronger characters might brave or defy. His vivid imagination intensified every pang he felt or feared. His mind was like a room hung round with mirrors, in which every terrible thing, reflected a hundred times, became a hundred terrors instead of one. What another would have endured once, he endured over and over again in agonized anticipation.
At times the nervous horror grew absolutely insupportable. Tearfulness and trembling took hold upon him. He felt ready to pray that God in his great mercy would take away his life, and let the bearer of the dreaded summons find him beyond all their malice.
One thought haunted him like a demon, whispering words of despair. It had begun to haunt him from the hour when poor Maria Gonsalez told him she had seen his brother. What if they dragged that loved name from his lips! What if, in his weakness, he became Juan's betrayer! Once it had been in his heart to betray him from selfish love; perhaps in judgment for that sin he was now to betray him through sharp bodily anguish. Even if his will were kept firm all through (which he scarcely dared to hope), would not reason give way, and wild words be wrung from his lips that would too surely ruin all!