"Have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"The news that is in every one's mouth to-day. Indeed, the city has
well nigh run mad with holy horror. And no wonder! Their reverences,
the Lords Inquisitors, have just discovered a community of abominable
Lutherans, a very viper's nest, in our midst. It is said the wretches
have actually dared to carry on their worship somewhere in the town.
Ah, no marvel you look horror-stricken, my pious cousin. You could
never have dreamed that such a thing was possible, could you?" After
one quick, keen glance, he did not look again in his cousin's face; but
he might have felt the beating of his cousin's heart against his arm.
"I am told," he continued, "that nearly two hundred persons have been
arrested already."
"_Two hundred!_" gasped Carlos.
"And the arrests are going on still."
"Who is taken?" Carlos forced his trembling lips to ask.
"Losada; more's the pity. A good physician, though a bad Christian."
"A good physician, and a good Christian too," said Carlos in the voice
of one who tries to speak calmly in terrible bodily pain.
"An opinion you would do more wisely to keep to yourself, if a reprobate
such as I may presume to counsel so learned and pious a personage."
"Who else?"
"One you would never guess. Don Juan Ponce de Leon, of all men. Think
of the Count of Baylen's son being thus degraded! Also the master of
the College of Doctrine, San Juan; and a number of Jeromite friars from
San Isodro. Those are all I know worth a gentleman's taking account of.
There are some beggarly tradesfolk, such as Medel d'Espinosa, the
embroiderer; and Luis d'Abrego, from whom your brother bought that
beautiful book of the Gospels he gave Dona Beatriz. But if only such
cattle were concerned in it, no one would care."
"Some fools there be," Don Gonsalvo continued after a pause, "who have
run to the Triana, and informed against themselves, thinking thereby to
get off more easily. _Fools_, again I say, for their pains." And he
emphasized his words by a pressure of the arm on which he was leaning.
At length they reached the door of Don Manuel's house. "Thanks for your
aid," said Gonsalvo. "Now that I remember it, Don Carlos, I hear also
that we are to have a grand procession on Tuesday with banners and
crosses, in honour of Our Lady, and of our holy patronesses Justina and
Rufina, to beg pardon for the sin and scandal so long permitted in the
midst of our most Catholic city. You, my pious cousin, licentiate of
theology and all but consecrated priest--you will carry a taper, no
doubt?"
Carlos would fain have left the question unanswered; but Gonsalvo meant
to have an answer. "You will?" he repeated, laying his hand on his arm,
and looking him in the face, though with a smile. "It would be very
creditable to the family for one of us to appear. Seriously; I advise
you to do it."
Then Carlos said quietly, "_No_;" and crossed the patio to the staircase
which led to his own apartment.
Gonsalvo stood watching him, and mentally retracting, at his last word,
the verdict formerly pronounced against him as "a coward," "not half a
man."