“The story is short, Sire, and if it is not all clear, I shall crave your Majesty’s pardon for being silent on certain points which concern my private life.  I was alone this evening in my room here, after your Majesty had left supper, and I was reading.  A man came to visit me then whom I have known and trusted long.  We were alone, we have had differences before, to-night sharp words passed between us.  I ask your Majesty’s permission not to name that man, for I would not do him an injury, though it should cost me my life.”

His eyes were fixed on the King, who slowly nodded his assent.  He had known that he could trust his brother not to betray him, and he wondered what was to come next.  Don John smiled a little as he went on.

“There were sharp words,” he said, “and being men, steel was soon out, and I received this scratch here—­a mere nothing.  But as chance would have it I fell backward and was so stunned that I seemed dead.  And then, as I learn, my friend Mendoza there came in, either while we fought, or afterwards, and understood—­and so, as I suppose, in generous fear for my good name, lest it should be told that I had been killed in some dishonest brawl, or for a woman’s sake—­my friend Mendoza, in the madness of generosity, and because my love for his beautiful daughter might give the tale some colour, takes all the blame upon himself, owns himself murderer, loses his wits, and well-nigh loses his head, too.  So I understand the matter, Sire.”

He paused a moment, and again the King slowly nodded, but this time he smiled also, and seemed much pleased.

“For what remains,” Don John continued, “that is soon explained.  This brave and noble lady whom you found here, you all know.  I have loved her long and faithfully, and with all my heart.  Those who know me, know that my word is good, and here before your Majesty, before man and before Heaven, I solemnly swear upon my most sacred word that no harm has ever come near her, by me, or by another.  Yet, in the hope of saving her father’s life, believing and yet not believing that he might have hurt me in some quarrel, she went among you, and told you the tale you know.  I ask your Majesty to say that my word and oath are good, and thereby to give your Majesty’s authority to what I say.  And if there is any man here, or in Spain, among your Majesty’s subjects, who doubts the word I give, let him say so, for this is a grave matter, and I wish to be believed before I say more.”

A third time the King nodded, and this time not ungraciously, since matters had gone well for him.

“For myself,” he said, “I would take your word against another man’s oath, and I think there is no one bold enough to question what we both believe.”

“I thank your Majesty.  And moreover, I desire permission to present to your Majesty—­”

He took Dolores’ hand and drew her forward, though she came a little unwillingly, and was pale, and her deep grey eyes gazed steadily at the King’s face.