a most doleful tone--

"Alack! Don Lope," he said, "remember what I told you at Guadix; my
forebodings did not deceive me, for my prognostication has,
unfortunately, been but too truly accomplished. Now, had you then--"

"Gently, my good fellow," interrupted Gomez Arias, "gently; this will
never do; thou camest here in the humble mood of a sinner, to crave my
forgiveness, and now thou hast relapsed into thy former calling by
assuming the preacher. In goodness forbear, and leave that task to those
who claim it in virtue of their office. And now, my faithful Roque,
begone, for I feel drowsy, and an hour's sleep would not come amiss."

Saying this, he bade his servant kindly adieu, and retired to his
closet, followed by two guards.

Roque was bewildered, for though he had already had several occasions of
forming a just estimation of the character and temper of Gomez Arias,
yet he could not comprehend how a man on the eve of death could resign
himself to sleep with the ease and composure which his master evinced.

"_Virgen Santa!_" he ejaculated, "did ever man think of sleep at such a
time? Why _los siete durmientes_[46] would have been at fault at such a
pinch. He is going to sleep; the Lord help him! I am sure I cannot
sleep; nay, I don't know whether I shall ever sleep again."

Saying this, poor Roque withdrew, weeping and wondering, and imploring
the protection of all the saints in the calendar, for his unfortunate
master.

CHAPTER XI.

Voila le precipice ou l'ont enfin jete
Les attraits enchanteurs de la prosperite.

_La Fontaine._

Oh di destino avverso
Fatal possanza! a mie tante sventure
Cio sol mancava.

_Alfieri._

Forget! forgive!--I must indeed forget
When I forgive.

_Southern._

Every hope was now extinct--the fatal morning arrived. Theodora, the
hapless Theodora, against whom fate seemed to have exhausted all her
malice, after a night of restless grief, had left her couch betimes, and
in a gloomy reverie was sitting by the casement, her hands clasped
together, and her eyes vacantly fixed on the moving groups below.

The door opened, and her father entered--the wretched man was in a most
pitiable state.

"My child," he said, tenderly, "my dear child, you must leave this
place."

"Never," cried the melancholy Theodora, "unless it is to be carried