“It cannot be. Even now my enemies prepare a new struggle. Even to-night my hollow friend, my real enemy, my brother Fadrique sleeps within these walls. But never, never shall he—”
“Pedro, what mean’st thou?”
“That Fadrique dies.”
“Oh God!”
A page, interrupting them, announced Don Fadrique’s herald.
“Bid Reboledo and Don Juan of Arragon meet me in my closet. Go.”
“Pedro!”
“To-morrow, to-morrow, gentle Maria,” said the king, as he hastily strode away.
Diego Perez de Reboledo, and his friend the infanté, speedily attended the summons of Pedro.
“Don Fadrique has arrived,” said the king, in a careless tone.