with the deliberate intention of killing him.  He had, indeed, been to the chief steward’s office in search of a key, saying that the King desired to have it and was waiting; but it would be said that he had used the King’s authority to try and get the key for himself because he knew that his daughter was hidden in the locked room.  He had foolishly fancied that the King would send for him and see him alone before he died, that his sovereign would thank him for the service that was costing his life, would embrace him and send him to his death for the good of Spain and the divine right of monarchy.  Truly, he had been most bitterly deceived.

“You said,” continued Philip mercilessly, “that you killed his Highness when he was unarmed.  Is that true?”

“His Highness was unarmed,” said Mendoza, almost through his closed teeth, for he was suffering beyond words.

“Unarmed,” repeated the King, nodding to Perez, who wrote rapidly.  “You might have given him a chance for his life.  It would have been more soldier-like.  Had you any words before you drew upon him?  Was there any quarrel?”

“None.  We did not speak to each other.”  Mendoza tried to make Philip meet his eyes, but the King would not look at him.

“There was no altercation,” said the King, looking at Perez.  “That proves that the murder was premeditated.  Put it down—­it is very important.  You could hardly have stabbed him in the back, I suppose.  He must have turned when he heard you enter.  Where was the wound?”

“The wound that killed his Highness will be found near the heart.”

“Cruel!” Philip looked down at his own hands, and he shook his head very sadly.  “Cruel, most cruel,” he repeated in a low tone.

“I admit that it was a very cruel deed,” said Mendoza, looking at him fixedly.  “In that, your Majesty is right.”

“Did you see your daughter before or after you had committed the murder?” asked the King calmly.

“I have not seen my daughter since the murder was committed.”

“But you saw her before?  Be careful, Perez.  Write down every word.  You say that you saw your daughter before you did it.”

“I did not say that,” answered Mendoza firmly.

“It makes very little difference,” said the King, “If you had seen her with his Highness, the murder would have seemed less cold-blooded, that is all.  There would then have been something like a natural provocation for it.”

There was a low sound, as of some one scratching at the door.  That was the usual way of asking admittance to the King’s room on very urgent matters.  Perez rose instantly, the King nodded to him, and he went to the door.  On opening, someone handed him a folded paper on a gold salver.  He brought it to Philip, dropped on one knee very ceremoniously, and presented it.  Philip took the note and opened it, and Perez returned to his seat at once.