ant--

"Oh, in mercy do not sign"--she franticly exclaimed. "In the name of
heaven! not yet--do not sign!"

It was too late--the decree which condemned Gomez Arias was signed, and
his unfortunate wife fell senseless to the ground.

In this melancholy state she was carried to her father, who, far from
being able to afford consolation, was himself a prey to the bitterest
woe.

Gloomily the day wore away, and the inhabitants of Granada beheld with
horror the high scaffold which was already prepared at the Plaza de
Bivarrambla. An universal mourning seemed to prevail throughout the
city. Every one felt interested and shocked at the approaching
execution, though no one dared to impugn the justice of the sentence, by
virtue of which the noble culprit was about to suffer.

After the condemnation of Gomez Arias, a strong guard was placed at the
mansion of Count de Tendilla, where he had been confined. He was treated
with the utmost deference and regard, the queen having particularly
commanded that every attention should be lavished on him; and indeed,
until his death warrant was signed, the prisoner had been permitted a
free intercourse with his friends and relatives. Thus his prison bore
rather the resemblance of a levee of a person in power, than the visits
of despairing friends to one in the last stage of mortality. All his
friends and companions in arms had been assiduous in these mournful
visits, and he appeared greatly pleased with this testimony of their
regard. Indeed it was his pride which had brought Gomez Arias into this
dreadful predicament, and he was thus highly gratified at the very
general interest exhibited in his behalf.

It might be easily seen that he had not yet lost every hope; for to him
it seemed impossible that the queen could ever be prevailed on to give
her sanction to the sentence. He fondly recalled to his mind the high
favor in which he had hitherto been held by Isabella--the different
tokens of regard received from her royal hand--the many interviews and
even familiar conversations with which he had been honored. To these
pleasing recollections he added the intercessions of so many powerful
advocates, all eager to solicit the royal clemency in his behalf. Thus,
every thing conspired to buoy up the spirits of the prisoner, and to
prolong an illusion from which he was soon to be rudely awakened. He was
conversing in a tranquil, nay, lively manner, with two or three friends,
when Count de Tend