thee the love of this misguided one; and if any
one have sufficient influence to convert, by other than sharp means,
it can only be thyself."

Isabella was not long undecided. Her heart felt that to turn Marie
from blindness and perdition by kindness and affection would be indeed
far more acceptable to the virgin (her own peculiar saint) than the
heretic's blood, and she answered with animation, "Then so it shall
be, Ferdinand; I fear me, alas! that there will be little reason to
prevaricate, to deny all spiritual access to her. Thy report, combined
with my terrified Catherine's, gives me but little hope for health or
reason. But should she indeed recover, trust me she shall be happy
yet."

Great was the astonishment of the guards as they beheld their
Sovereign fearlessly enter the chamber of a proclaimed Jewess--a word
in their minds synonymous with the lowest, most degraded rank of
being; and yet more, to hear and perceive that she herself was
administering relief. The attendants of Isabella--whose curiosity was
now more than satisfied, for the tale had been repeated with the usual
exaggerations, even to a belief that she had used the arts of sorcery
on Morales--huddled together in groups, heaping every opprobrious
epithet upon her, and accusing her of exposing them all to the horrors
of purgatory by contaminating them with her presence. And as the
Sovereign re-appeared in her saloon with the leech Benedicto, whose
aid she had summoned, there were many who ventured to conjure her not
to expose herself to such pollution as the tending of a Jewess--to
leave her to the fate her fraud so merited. Even Catherine, finding to
disbelieve the tale any longer was impossible, and awed and terrified
at the mysterious words of her companions, which told of danger to her
beloved mistress, flung herself on her knees before her, clasping her
robe to detain her from again seeking the chamber of Marie. Then
was the moment for a painter to have seized on the face and form of
Isabella! Her eye flashed till its very color was undistinguishable,
her lip curled, every feature--usually so mild and feminine--was so
transformed by indignation into majesty and unutterable scorn as
scarcely to have been recognized. Her slight and graceful form dilated
till the very boldest cowered before her, even before she spoke; for
never had they so encountered her reproof:--

"Are ye women?" she said at length, in the quiet, concentrated tone of
strong