!'

"I had sung but one verse when her crying ceased; and ere I had sung
two, she saith with a deep sigh, `Ay Jesus!' and lay quiet. Then, when
I paused, she said, `Is it Dona Ines?'--`Speak to her,' quoth my Lord
Marquis. `Senora,' I answered, `I am your Highness' servant Ines, that
kisseth your feet.'--`Come hither to me,' the Queen said. `Child, God
hath looked on long in silence, but He is come at last.' My Lord of
Denia made me a sign to pass within the screen. There lay she, her
snow-white hair scattered over the pillow; her ladies standing or
kneeling around the bed. `It is over!' she said, speaking slowly, and
with pauses. `I shall suffer no longer. I shall go to God.'--`Senora,'
quoth my Lord Marquis, `I entreat your Highness to be silent. You have
received His Majesty, and cannot be allowed to soil your soul by evil
words, when Christ is within you.'--`Ye forced me, did ye?' she
answered, a quick flash of anger breaking the calm of her face. `Ah!
well, God knoweth. _I_ did it not. God knoweth. And God will receive
me. He witteth what I have been, and what ye.' She lay silent a
season; and then, slowly, as if it pained her, she drew her hands
together, and folded them as if she prayed, Fray Domingo began a Latin
prayer. `Silence!' saith the Queen, royally. And for this once--the
last time--her gaolers obeyed her. She fetched a long weary sigh, and
laid her hands one over the other on her breast. Then, in low, calm,
quiet tones, her last words were spoken. `Father, into Thine hands I
commit my spirit. Jesus Christ, the Crucified, be with me! I thank God
that my life is over.' It was over, only a few minutes later. And I
think He was with her through the valley of the shadow of death." [Note
2.]

"Isoult," said Annis, as she ended her woeful story, "thinkest thou this
were martyrdom--this daily dying for six and twenty years? Was it any
less, borne for our Lord's love, than any of His martyrs? They that are
burned or beheaded, they do but suffer once, and then no more. It must
be easier, methinks, than to die piecemeal, as she did. And she knew so
little! Isoult, dost thou think Christ will count her in the number of
His martyrs?"

"It soundeth very like, Annis," she answered.

"I do not fancy," said John, "that the Lord is so ill off for martyrs'
crowns that He will have none to spare for her."

"Well!" responded Dr Thorpe. "It should be no great wonder if they were
used up,