inal's nephews. In a trice the kicking, biting,
swearing pair were overpowered, deprived of arms, and pinioned. The men
looked to their prince for further orders. In the background Moniz and
Nunes witnessed all with troubled countenances, whilst the Cardinal,
beyond the table, white to the lips, demanded in a quavering voice to
know what violence was intended, implored the Infante to consider,
and in the same breath threatened him with dread consequences of this
affront.

Affonso Henriques, unmoved, pointed through the window to a stalwart oak
that stood before the inn.

"Take them out there, and hang them unshriven," he commanded.

The Cardinal swayed, and almost fell forward. He clutched the table,
speechless with terror for those lads who were as the very apple of his
eye, he who so fearlessly had bared his own breast to the steel.

The two comely Italian youths were dragged out writhing in their
captors' hands.

At last the half-swooning legate found his voice. "Lord Prince," he
gasped. "Lord Prince... you cannot do this infamy! You cannot! I warn
you that... that..." The threat perished unuttered, slain by mounting
terror. "Mercy! Have mercy, lord! as you hope for mercy!"

"What mercy do you practice, you who preach a gospel of mercy in the
world, and cry for mercy now?" the Infante asked him.

"But this is an infamy! What harm have those poor children done? What
concern is it of theirs that I have offended you in performing my sacred
duty?"

Swift into that opening flashed the home-thrust of the Infante's answer.

"What harm have my people of Coimbra done? What concern is it of theirs
that I have offended you? Yet to master me you did not hesitate to
strike at them with the spiritual weapons that are yours. To master you
I do not hesitate to strike at your nephews with the lethal weapons that
are mine. When you shall have seen them hang you will understand the
things that argument could not make clear to you. In the vileness of my
act you will see a reflection of the vileness of your own, and perhaps
your heart will be touched, your monstrous pride abated."

Outside, under the tree, the figures of the men-at-arms were moving.
Expeditiously, and with indifference, they went about the preparations
for the task entrusted to them.

The Cardinal writhed, and fought for breath. "Lord Prince, this must
not be!" He stretched forth supplicating hands. "Lord Prince, you must
release my nephews."

"Lord Cardin