“By the aid of Santiago, yes,” is the answer. “Such is the prophecy I have to impart.”
Now had Don Sancho been less eager to rid himself of Gonzales by every means, he would have noted the violent agitation which shook the pilgrim’s frame.
To poison a sovereign in prison—and a kinsman to boot—is a serious undertaking. Already the words of refusal are on Sancho’s lips when the curtains of the apartment fly open and Doña Teresa rushes in.
“What is this I hear?” cries this imperious woman, who has been listening outside, her cruel face darkened by anger. “Shame on your cowardice, Don Sancho; you are no son of mine. What! you would refuse the proposal of this worthy pilgrim? I understand and applaud him. To kill the Conde de Castila is a work of mercy, for by his death the lives of thousands will be spared on the battle-field.”
In the presence of his mother the fat king becomes mute. Against his better judgment he consents to the death of the Conde.
Again we come upon Fernan in prison, a very unlikely place for so brilliant a cavalier, but, alas! adverse destiny has again doomed him to pass many months in this second dungeon—much more rough and dismal than the prison of Narbonne, as the old city of Leon, with its Gothic traditions, was more uncouth and uncivilised than the capital of Navarre.
“Who are you?” he asks in great surprise as a pilgrim is ushered in. “Nor need I ask; coming from the vile king you can only be a foe.”
“I am your friend,” answers a voice that strikes like music on his ear, “your best, your only friend, my lord and husband,” and as the disguise falls to the ground the faithful Infanta stands before her lord.
We will pass over their transports. A decent veil must conceal the mysteries of married life. Naturally the first question he asked was how she came there? Together they laughed while she explained the murderous purpose of the wicked queen.
“But time speeds,” she says, tearing herself from his arms. “You must fly. The courage of our good Castilians is damped by your long absence. Not a moment must be lost.”