mstances," he said, smiling.

"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
rather the penitent than the confessor.

"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
is, that upon earth men play different roles. There are, as in chess,
kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."

"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
had not heard it before.'"

"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
appearing to hear Don Lopez.

"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
my son."

They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
tears.

When the Duke had finished, two hours after--for the confession under
the Church seal was long and touching--the Bishop blessed the prisoner,
and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
and resigned.

[Illustration: "THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER."]

But there remained still an hour to wait.

"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
friend.

As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
that something