“And our lives, and hearts, and hopes to feed his conscience and to save his own soul!”

Inez was trembling with anger, leaning far forward, her face flushed, one slight hand clenched, the other clenching it hard.  Dolores was silent.  It was not the first time that Inez had spoken in this way, for the blind girl could be suddenly and violently angry for a good cause.  But now her tone changed.

“I will save you,” she said suddenly, “but there is no time to be lost.  He will not come back to our rooms now, and he knows well enough that Don John cannot come here at this hour, so that he is not waiting for him.  We have this part of the place to ourselves, and the outer door only is bolted now.  It will take you an hour to dress—­say three-quarters of an hour.  As soon as you get out, you must go quickly round the palace to the Duchess Alvarez.  Our father will not go there, and you can go down with her, as usual—­but tell her nothing.  Our father will be there, and he will see you, but he will not care to make an open scandal in the court.  Don John will come and speak to you; you must stay beside the Duchess of course—­but you can manage to exchange a few words.”

Dolores listened intently, and her face brightened a little as Inez went on, only to grow sad and hopeless again a moment later.  It was all an impossible dream.

“That would be possible if I could once get beyond the door of the hall,” she said despondently.  “It is of no use, dear!  The door is bolted.”

“They will open it for me.  Old Eudaldo is always within hearing, and he will do anything for me.  Besides, I shall seem to have been shut in by mistake, do you see?  I shall say that I am hungry, thirsty, that I am cold, that in locking you in our father locked me in, too, because I was asleep.  Then Eudaldo will open the door for me.  I shall say that I am going to the Duchess’s.”

“Yes—­but then?”

“You will cover yourself entirely with my black cloak and draw it over your head and face.  We are of the same height—­you only need to walk as I do—­as if you were blind—­across the hall to the left.  Eudaldo will open the outer door for you.  You will just nod to thank him, without speaking, and when you are outside, touch the wall of the corridor with your left hand, and keep close to it.  I always do, for fear of running against some one.  If you meet any of the women, they will take you for me.  There is never much light in the corridor, is there?  There is one oil lamp half way down, I know, for I always smell it when I pass in the evening.”

“Yes, it is almost dark there—­it is a little lamp.  Do you really think this is possible?”

“It is possible, not sure.  If you hear footsteps in the corridor beyond the corner, you will have time to slip into one of the embrasures.  But our father will not come now.  He knows that Don John is in his own apartments with many people.  And besides, it is to be a great festival to-night, and all the court people and officers, and the Archbishop, and all the rest who do not live in the palace will come from the city, so that our father will have to command the troops and give orders for the guards to march out, and a thousand things will take his time.  Don John cannot possibly come here till after the royal supper, and if our father can come away at all, it will be at the same time.  That is the danger.”