Her hand went out to open, but Philip was already on his feet, and with quick, clumsy steps he reached the writing-table, seized the pen Perez had thrown down, and began to scrawl words rapidly in his great angular handwriting.  He threw sand upon it to dry the ink, and then poured the grains back into the silver sandbox, glanced at the paper and held it out to Dolores without a word.  His other hand slipped along the table to a silver bell, used for calling his private attendants, but the girl saw the movement and instinctively suspected his treachery.  He meant her to come to the table, when he would ring the bell and then catch her and hold her by main force till help came.  Her faculties were furiously awake under the strain she bore, and outran his slow cunning.

“If you ring that bell, I will open,” she said imperiously.  “I must have the paper here, where I am safe, and I must read it myself before I shall be satisfied.”

“You are a terrible woman,” said the King, but she did not like his smile as he came towards her, holding out the document.

She took it from his hand, keeping her eyes on his, for something told her that he would try to seize her and draw her from the door while she was reading it.  For some seconds they faced each other in silence, and she knew by his determined attitude that she was right, and that it would not be safe to look down.  She wondered why he did not catch her in his arms as she stood, and then she realized that her free hand was on the latch of the door, and that he knew it.  She slowly turned the handle, and drew the door to her, and she saw his face fall.  She moved to one side so that she could have sprung out if he had tried violence, and then at last she allowed her eyes to glance at the paper.  It was in order and would be obeyed; she saw that, at a glance, for it said that Don Diego de Mendoza was to be set at liberty instantly and unconditionally.

“I humbly thank your Majesty, and take my leave,” she said, throwing the door wide open and curtseying low.

A chamberlain who had seen the door move on its hinges stepped in to shut it, for it opened inward.  The King beckoned him in, and closed it, but before it was quite shut, he heard Dolores’ voice.

“Don Ruy Gomez,” she was saying, “this is an order to set my father at liberty unconditionally and at once.  I do not know to whom it should be given.  Will you take it for me and see to it?”

“I will go to the west tower myself,” he said, beginning to walk with her.  “Such good news is even better when a friend brings it.”

“Thank you.  Tell him from me that he is safe, for his Majesty has told me that he knows the whole truth.  Will you do that?  You have been very kind to me to-night, Prince—­let me thank you with all my heart now, for we may not meet again.  You will not see me at court after this, and I trust my father will take us back to Valladolid and live with us.”