"The brethren are excellent men, learned and pious. And I am not buried," Carlos returned with a smile.
"And if thou wert buried ten fathoms deep, thou shouldst come up out of the grave when I need thee to stand beside me."
"Do not fear for that. Now thou art come, I will not prolong my stay here, as otherwise I might have done. But I have been very happy here, Juan."
"I am glad to hear it," said the merry-hearted, unsuspecting Juan. "I am glad also that you are not in too great haste to tie yourself down to the Church's service; though our honoured uncle seems to wish you had a keener eye to your own interest, and a better look-out for fat benefices. But I believe his own sons have appropriated all the stock of worldly prudence meant for the whole family, leaving none over for thee and me, Carlos."
"That is true of Don Manuel and Don Balthazar, not of Gonsalvo."
"Gonsalvo! he is far the worst of the three," Juan exclaimed, with something like anger in his open, sunny face.
Carlos laughed. "I suppose he has been favouring you with his opinion of me," he said.
"If he were not a poor miserable weakling and cripple, I should answer him with the point of my good sword. However, this is idle talk. Little brother" (Carlos being nearly as tall as himself, the diminutive was only a term of affection, recalling the days of their childhood, and more suited to masculine lips than its equivalent, dear)--"little brother, you look grave and pale, and ten years older than when we parted at Alcala."
"Do I? Much has happened with me since. I have been very sorrowful and very happy."
Don Juan laid his available hand on his brother's shoulder, and looked him earnestly in the face. "No secrets from me, little brother," he said. "If thou dost not like the service of Holy Church after all, speak out, and thou shall go back with me to France, or to anywhere else in the known world that thou wilt. There may be some fair lady in the case," he added, with a keen and searching glance.