“I must look to these matters more closely,” said the young king, roused at last to a sense of his position. “As my tutors and governors are so careless of the charge conferred on them by my father, it is time that I should relieve them of their office.”
A delighted look overspread Garcia’s face, and a sardonic grin from Martos indicated that he had much more to say if he dared.
“Speak freely, my faithful Martos,” said the king, “if you have anything to tell me.”
Garcia eagerly listened.
“It is a great liberty, Altezza, for one so humble as I am to interfere in the affairs of those so much above me, but I have cause to know that your Highness’s governors are not worthy of the confidence reposed in them.”
“Did I not say so?” interposed Garcia. “They hated me too much to be honest.”
“Proceed, Martos, I see you have not told me all.”
“True, my lord. And there is something of which I would fain inform your Grace,” continued he, speaking in a whisper, with a careful look round. “I know that there is to be a great fiesta given at the house of the Archbishop of Toledo to-night. All the grandiose are bidden, and all the cooks in Burgos will attend. There will be plenty of food there,” with a sly glance at the solitary dish of game yet untouched lying on a huge table.
As the old man spoke, the king’s face changed to a graver look than it seemed possible for those placid features to assume.
“I understand,” he answered, “while the King of Castile is without a dinner, his Regents and nobles feast. Alas! I am often weak in health, which leads me to shrink from the duties of my office, but, por Dios! I am strong in spirit, and I will settle these caballeros as they deserve.”