“That is not quite the way,” she said, with a girlish laugh.  “Say it again—­quite as softly, but more tenderly!  You must be very much in earnest, you know, but you must not be in the least violent.”  She laughed again.  “It is like teaching a young lion,” she added.  “He may eat you up at any moment, instead of obeying you.  Tell me, you have a little lion that follows you like a dog when you are in your camp, have you not?  You have not told me about him yet.  How did you teach him?”

“I did not try to make him say ‘I love you, dear,’” answered Don John, laughing in his turn.

As he spoke a distant sound caught his ear, and the smile vanished from his face, for though he heard only the far off rumbling of a coach in the great court, it recalled him to reality.

“We are playing with life and death,” he said suddenly.  “It is late, the King may be here at any moment, and we have decided nothing.”  He rose.

“Is it late?” asked Dolores, passing her hand over her eyes dreamily.  “I had forgotten—­it seems so short.  Give me the key on my side of the door—­we had decided that, you know.  Go and sit down in your room, as we agreed.  Shall you read my letter again, love?  It may be half an hoar still before the King comes.  When he is gone, we shall have all the night in which to decide, and the nights are very long now.  Oh, I hate to lose one minute of you!  What shall you say to the King?”

“I do not know what he may say to me,” answered Don John.  “Listen and you shall hear—­I would rather know that you hear everything I say.  It will be as if I were speaking before you, and of course I should tell you everything the King says.  He will speak of you, I think.”

“Indeed, it would be hard not to listen,” said Dolores.  “I should have to stop my ears, for one cannot help hearing every word that is said in the next room.  Do you know?  I heard you ask for your white shoes!  I hardly dared to breathe for fear the servants should find out that I was here.”

“So much the better then.  Sit in this chair near the door.  But be careful to make no noise, for the King is very suspicious.”

“I know.  Do not be afraid; I will be as quiet as a mouse.  Go, love, go!  It is time—­oh, how I hate to let you leave me!  You will be careful?  You will not be angry at what he says?  You would be wiser if you knew I were not hearing everything; you will want to defend me if he says the least word you do not like, but let him say what he will!  Anything is better than an open quarrel between you and the King!  Promise me to be very moderate in what you say, and very patient.  Remember that he is the King!”

“And my brother,” said Don John, with some bitterness.  “Do not fear.  You know what I have promised you.  I will bear anything he may say that concerns me as well as I can, but if he says anything slighting of you—­”

“But he may—­that is the danger.  Promise me not to be angry—­”