The Princess of Eboli stood a little apart from the rest, having just returned to the ball-room, and her eyes searched for Dolores in the crowd, though she scarcely expected to see her there.  It would have been almost impossible for the girl to put on a court dress in so short a time, though since her father had allowed her to leave her room, she could have gone back to dress if she had chosen.  The Princess had rarely been at a loss in her evil life, and had seldom been baffled in anything she had undertaken, since that memorable occasion on which her husband, soon after her marriage, had forcibly shut her up in a convent for several months, in the vain hope of cooling her indomitable temper.  But now she was nervous and uncertain of herself.  Not only had Dolores escaped her, but Don John had disappeared also, and the Princess had not the least doubt but that the two were somewhere together, and she was very far from being sure that they had not already left the palace.  Antonio Perez had informed her that the King had promised not to see Don John that night, and for once she was foolish enough to believe the King’s word.  Perez came up to her as she was debating what she should do.  She told him her thoughts, laughing gaily from time to time, as if she were telling him some very witty story, for she did not wish those who watched them to guess that the conversation was serious.  Perez laughed, too, and answered in low tones, with many gestures meant to deceive the court.

“The King did not take my advice,” he said.  “I had scarcely left him, when he went to Don John’s apartments.”

“How do you know that?” asked the Princess, with some anxiety.

“He found the door of an inner room locked, and he sent Mendoza to find the key.  Fortunately for the old man’s feelings it could not be found!  He would have had an unpleasant surprise.”

“Why?”

“Because his daughter was in the room that was locked,” laughed Perez.

“When?  How?  How long ago was that?”

“Half an hour—­not more.”

“That is impossible.  Half an hour ago Dolores de Mendoza was with me.”

“Then there was another lady in the room.”  Perez laughed again.  “Better two than one,” he added.

“You are wrong,” said the Princess, and her face darkened.  “Don John has not so much as deigned to look at any other woman these two years.”

“You should know that best,” returned the Secretary, with a little malice in his smile.

It was well known in the court that two or three years earlier, during the horrible intrigue that ended in the death of Don Carlos, the Princess of Eboli had done her best to bring Don John of Austria to her feet, and had failed notoriously, because he was already in love with Dolores.  She was angry now, and the rich colour came into her handsome dark face.

“Don Antonio Perez,” she said, “take care!  I have made you.  I can also unmake you.”