s life, it was
determined he should lose the approaching battle. It was the unhappy
friar's last sermon; for in less than five minutes he had ceased to
exist.

It stands to reason, that, owing to the retired habits of this friar, a
certain anecdote had never reached his ear relative to another member of
a religious fraternity. At a period that had not long preceded the event
just related, the misconduct of this sovereign had drawn down upon him
the displeasure of the head of the church.[11] The thunderbolt was
already forged beneath the arches of the Vatican; but a serious
difficulty presented itself. The culprit was likely to turn upon the
hand employed in inflicting the chastisement. At length a young monk,
known to a member of the holy synod as a genius of promise, energetic
and fertile in resources, was made choice of, who unhesitatingly
undertook the mission. He repaired to Seville, and after a few days'
delay, employed in combining his plan of operation, he got into a boat,
furnished with two stout rowers, and allowing the current to waft him
down the Guadalquivir, until he arrived opposite a portion of the bank
known to be the daily resort of the King, he approached the shore, and
waited his opportunity.

At the accustomed hour the royal cavalcade was seen to approach; when,
standing up in the boat, which was not allowed to touch the shore, he
made signs that he would speak to the party. The monkish costume
commanded respect even from royalty, and Don Pedro reined in his horse.
The monk then inquired whether it would gratify his Majesty to listen to
the news of certain remarkable occurrences that had taken place in the
East, from which part of the world he had just arrived. The King
approached, and ordered him to tell his story: upon which he unrolled
the fatal document, and with all possible rapidity of enunciation read
it from beginning to end.

Before it was concluded, the King had drawn his sword, and spurred his
horse to the brink of the water; but at his first movement the boat had
pushed off,--the reader still continuing his task,--so that by the time
Pedro found himself completely excommunicated, his rage passing all
bounds, he had dashed into the water, directing a sabre cut, which only
reached the boat's stern. He still, however, spurred furiously on, and
compelled his horse to swim a considerable distance; until, the animal
becoming exhausted, he only regained the shore after being in serious
dange