I met you. I hungered so for love--for your love,
Antonio--that I had not the strength. I was weak and selfish, and
because I was ready and glad to pay the price myself, whatever it should
be and whenever asked, I did not take thought enough for you."

"Take no thought now," I implored her, holding her close.

"I must. I can't help it. I have raised this peril for you. He will go
to Philip."

"Not he; he dare not. I am his only hope. I am the ladder by which he
hopes to scale the heaven of his high ambition. If he destroys me, there
is the kennel for himself. He knows it."

"Do you say that to comfort me, or is it really true?"

"God's truth, sweetheart," I swore, and drew her closer.

She was comforted long before I left her. But as I stepped out into
the street again a man accosted me. Evidently he had been on the watch,
awaiting me. He fell into step beside me almost before I realized his
presence. It was Escovedo.

"So," he said, very sinister, "you'll not be warned."

"Nor will you," I answered, no whit less sinister myself.

It was broad daylight. A pale March sunshine was beating down upon the
cobbled streets, and passers-by were plentiful. There was no fingering
of hilts or talk of skewering on either side. Nor must I show any of
the anger that was boiling in me. My face was too well known in Madrid
streets, and a Secretary of State does not parade emotions to the
rabble. So I walked stiff and dignified amain, that dog in step with me
the while.

"She will have told you what I have said to her," he murmured.

"And what she said to you. It was less than your deserts."

"Groom and lackey, eh?" said he. "And less than I deserve--a man of my
estate. Oh, ho! Groom and lackey! Those are epithets to be washed out in
blood and tears."

"You rant," I said.

"Or else to be paid for--handsomely." His tone was sly--so sly that
I answered nothing, for to answer a sly man is to assist him, and my
business was to let him betray the cause of this slyness. Followed a
spell of silence. Then, "Do you know," said he, "that several of her
relatives are thinking seriously of killing you?"

"Many men have thought seriously of that--so seriously that they never
attempted it. Antonio Perez is not easily murdered, Don Juan, as you may
discover."

It was a boast that I may claim to have since justified.

"Shall I tell you their names?" quoth he.

"If you want to ruin them."

"Ha!" It was a short bark of a laugh. "