I have, Don Pedro," he said, "your memorial to the King in which you
accuse Don Antonio Perez of the murder of your father. And I am to
assure you in the King's name that justice will be done upon the
murderer, whoever he may be, without regard to rank. But I am first
to engage you to consider well what evidence you have to justify your
charge against a person of such consideration. For should your proofs be
insufficient I warn you that matters are likely to take a bad turn for
yourself. Finally, before you answer me, let me add, upon my word as a
priest, that Antonio Perez is as innocent as I am."

It was the truth--the absolute truth, so far as it was known to Philip
and to the Bishop--for, indeed, I was no more than the instrument of my
master's will.

Don Pedro looked foolish, almost awed. He was as a man who suddenly
becomes aware that he has missed stepping over the edge of a chasm in
which destruction awaited him. He may have bethought him at last that
all his rantings had no better authority than suspicions which no
evidence could support.

"Sir," he faltered, "since you tell me this, I pledge you my word on
behalf of myself and my family to make no more mention of this death
against Don Antonio."

The Bishop swung then upon Vasquez, and his brow became furrowed with
contemptuous anger.

"As for you, sir, you have heard--which was more than your due, for
it is not your business by virtue of your office, nor have you any
obligations towards the deceased, such as excuse Don Pedro's rashness,
to pursue the murderers of Escovedo. Your solicitude in this matter
brings you under a suspicion the more odious since you are a priest.
I warn you, sir, to abstain, for this affair is different far from
anything that you imagine."

But envy is a fierce goad, a consuming, irresistible passion, corroding
wisdom and deaf to all prudent counsels. Vasquez could not abstain.
Ridden by his devil of spite and jealousy, he would not pause until he
had destroyed either himself or me.

Since Escovedo's immediate family now washed their hands of the affair,
Vasquez sought out more distant relatives of the murdered man, and
stirred them up until they went in their turn to pester the courts,
not only with accusations against myself, but with accusations that now
openly linked with mine the name of the Princess of Eboli.

We were driven to the brink of despair, and in this Anne wrote to
Philip. It was a madness. She made too great