Something in the sudden apparition of this grotesque figure, as if the earth had opened to cast him forth, so strikes the fancy of the king that he laughs aloud.
“Begone, Hassan,” he says, “I did but jest; the necks of my loving companions are precious. But, amigos mios, I counsel you, trifle not with me. I am patient at no time, and now that my reason is scarcely settled from the disturbance it has had, I am dangerous to play with.”
“Play with!” replies Don Juan, who cares little for threats of any kind. “God forbid! Your Grace knows I fear nought. You shall judge of my faithfulness, for I am here ready to answer all you please to ask.”
“How here?” asks Don Pedro, reddening with a sudden flush. “Where else should you be?”
“Why, with the new king at Toledo,” promptly answers Mañara, nettled at the mention of the axe. “The new king, who is crowned by right and authority of the Holy Father, Urban V.; Don Pedro of Castile being legally and civilly defunct, by reason of the ban of excommunication pronounced against him, it is the fashion now to cry, ‘Long live El Rey Enrique el Caballero.’ Perhaps your Grace did not know that you were already dead?”
As he speaks an ashy pallor spreads over the king’s face, and out of his bloodless lips the words come thickly:
“So, so, at Toledo!” he gasps, clenching his hands in the cushions at his head. “Crowned? My brain turns. It was not a dream?”
“By my faith, no, an army is encamped outside on the Tagus, a garrison within. The troops a little mixed in nationality it is true, but the promise of the support of the great companies under Du Guesclin, to be sent to restore the Lady Blanche——”
“Restore the Lady Blanche? Why, she is locked up in the castle of Talavera, out of which no woman ever came alive. It is you, Don Juan, who play the fool!” exclaims Pedro, raising himself up, and seizing him savagely by the shoulder. “By the living Christ! your life is in my hand.”
“I care not,” is the retort, shaking off the king’s hand, who, weaker than he deems himself, falls back muttering curses. “Your Grace has questioned me, I tell the truth. Don Enrique holds Toledo, the Lady Blanche is with him. Here is Don Garcia, ask him, if you doubt me. The queen, your mother, had no power to march troops against the Conde de Trastamare while you lay between life and death.”