"That was wise of him." He spoke faintly still, and when he opened his eyes, the room swam with him. "And then?"
"Then I told her what had happened at court; I had heard everything from the gallery. And Dolores went down alone. I could not understand what she was going to do, but she is trying to save our father."
"Your father!" Don John looked at her in surprise, forgetting his hurt, but it was as if some one had struck his head again, and he closed his eyes. "What has happened?" he asked faintly. "Try and tell me. I do not understand."
"My father thought he had killed you," answered Inez, in surprise. "He came into the great hall when the King was there, and he cried out in a loud voice that he had killed you, unarmed."
"Your father?" He forgot his suffering altogether now. "Your father was not even in the room when--when I fell! And did the King say nothing? Tell me quickly!"
"There was a great uproar, and I ran away to find Dolores. I do not know what happened afterwards."
Don John turned painfully in his chair and lifted his hand to the back of his head. But he said nothing at first, for he was beginning to understand, and he would not betray the secret of his accident even to Inez.
"I knew he could not have done it! I thought he was mad--he most have been! But I also thought your Highness was dead."
"Dear child!" Don John's voice was very kind. "You brought me to life. Your father was not here. It was some one else who hurt me. Do you think you could find Dolores or send some one to tell her--to tell every one that I am alive? Say that I had a bad fall and was stunned for a while. Never mind the scratch--it is nothing--do not speak of it. If you could find Adonis, he could go."
He groaned now, for the pain of speaking was almost intolerable. Inez put out her hand towards him.