what she saw, until the laugh came, short
and light, but cutting. And Inez heard that, too, for she was leaning
far forward upon the broad stone sill to listen for the sound of Don
John's voice. She drew back with a springing movement, and a sort of cry
of pain.

"Some one is laughing at me!" she cried. "Some one is laughing because I
am trying to see!"

Instantly Dolores drew her sister to her, kissing her tenderly, and
soothing her as one does a frightened child.

"No, dear, no! It was not that--I saw what it was. Nobody was looking at
you, my darling. Do you know why some one laughed? It hurt me, too. He
smiled and waved his hand to our father, who took no notice of him. The
laugh was for that--and for me, because the man knew well enough that
our father does not mean that we shall ever marry. Do you see, dear? It
was not meant for you."

"Did he really look up at us when you said so?" asked Inez, in a
smothered voice.

"Who? The man who laughed?"

"No. I mean--"

"Don John? Yes. He looked up to us and smiled--as he often does at
me--with his eyes only, while his face was quite grave. He is not
changed at all, except that he looks more determined, and handsomer, and
braver, and stronger than ever! He does each time I see him!"

But Inez was not listening.

"That was worth living for--worth being blind for," she said suddenly,
"to hear the people shout and cheer for him as he came along. You who
can see it all do not understand what the sound means to me. For a
moment--only for a moment--I saw light--I know I saw a bright light
before my eyes. I am not dreaming. It made my heart beat, and it made my
head dizzy. It must have been light. Do you think it could be, Dolores?"

"I do not know, dear," answered the other gently.

But as the day faded and they sat together in the early dusk, Dolores
looked long and thoughtfully at the blind face. Inez loved Don John,
though she did not know it, and without knowing it she had told her
sister.

* * * * *

CHAPTER II

When Don John had disappeared within the palace the people lingered a
little while, hoping that something might happen which would be worth
seeing, and then, murmuring a little in perfectly unreasonable
disappointment, they slowly dispersed. After that old Mendoza gave his
orders to the officers of the guards, the men tramped away, one
detachment after another, in a regular order; the cavalry that had
ridden