A softer light played over the features of Carlos. Then he should see that face once more--perhaps even grasp that hand! Truly God was giving him everything he desired of him. He said,--
"I am glad to stand, here to the last, at the side of that faithful soldier and servant of Christ. For when we go in there together, I dare not hope to be so highly honoured as to take a place beside him."
At this point the prior broke in. "Señor and my brother, your words are wasted. He is given over to the power of the evil one. Let us leave him." And drawing his mantle round him, he turned to go, without looking again towards Carlos.
But Carlos came forward. "Pardon me, my lord; I have a few words yet to say to you;" and, stretching out his hand to detain him, he unconsciously touched his arm with it.
The prior flung it off with a gesture of angry scorn. There was contamination in that touch. "I have heard too many words from your lips already," he said.
"To-morrow night my lips will be dust, my voice silent for ever. So you may well bear with me for a little while to-day."
"Speak then; but be brief."
"It gives me the last pang I think to know on earth, to part thus from you; for you have shown me true kindness. I owe you, not forgiveness as an enemy, but gratitude as a sincere though mistaken friend. I shall pray for you--"
"An impenitent heretic's prayers--"
"Will do my lord the prior no harm; and there may come a day when he will not be sorry he had them."