Part 52 (2/2)

”I will _not_ believe it,” he reiterated, with pale lips, and eyes that gleamed beneath his cowl like coals of fire. Then, softening a little as he turned to the dead--”Would that those silent lips could utter, were it only one word, to say that death found thee true to the Catholic faith!--Not one word! So end the hopes of years. But at least thy betrayer shall be with thee amongst the dead to-morrow.--Heretic!” he said, turning fiercely to Carlos, ”we are here to announce thy doom. I came, with a heart full of pity and relenting, to offer counsel and comfort, and such mercy as Holy Church still keeps for those who return to her bosom at the eleventh hour. But now, I despair of thee.

Professed, impenitent, dogmatizing heretic, go thine own way to everlasting fire!”

”To-morrow! Did you say to-morrow?” asked Carlos, standing motionless, as one lost in thought.

The other Inquisitor took up the word.

”It is true,” he said. ”To-morrow the Church offers to G.o.d the acceptable sacrifice of a solemn Act of Faith. And we come to announce to thee thy sentence, well merited and long delayed--to be relaxed to the secular arm as an obstinate heretic. But if even yet thou wilt repent, and, confessing and deploring thy sins, supplicate restoration to the bosom of the Church, she will so effectually intercede for thee with the civil magistrate that the doom of fire will be exchanged for the milder punishment of death by strangling.”

Something like a faint smile played round the lips of Carlos; but he only repeated, ”To-morrow!”

”Yes, my son,” said the Inquisitor, promptly; for he was a man who knew his business well. He had come there to improve the occasion; and he meant to do it. ”No doubt it seems to thee a sudden blow, and but a brief s.p.a.ce left thee for preparation. But, at the best, our life here is only a span; 'Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery.'”

Carlos did not look as if he heard; he still stood lost in thought, his head sunk upon his breast. But in another moment he raised it suddenly.

”To-morrow I shall be with Christ in glory!” he exclaimed, with a countenance as radiant as if that glory were already reflected there.

Some faint feeling of awe and wonder touched the Inquisitor's heart, and silenced him for an instant. Then, recovering himself, and falling back for help upon wonted words of course, he said,--

”I entreat of you to think of your soul.”

”I have thought of it long ago. I have given it into the safe keeping of Christ my Lord. Therefore I think no more of it; I only think of him.”

”But have you no fear of the anguish--the doom of fire?”

”I have no fear,” Carlos answered. And this was a great mystery, even to himself. ”Christ's hand will either lift me over it or sustain me through it; which, I know not yet. And I am not careful; he will care.”

”Men of n.o.ble lineage, such as you are--of high honour and stainless name, such as you _were_,” said the Inquisitor--”ofttimes dread shame more than agony. You, who were called Alvarez de Menaya, what think you of the infamy, the loathing of all men, the scorn and mockery of the lowest rabble--the zamarra, the carroza?”

”I shall joyfully go forth with Him without the camp, bearing his reproach.”

”And stand at the stake beside a vile caitiff, a miserable muleteer, convicted of the same crimes?”

”A muleteer? Juliano Hernandez?” Carlos questioned eagerly.

”The same.”

A softer light played over the features of Carlos. Then he should see that face once more--perhaps even grasp that hand! Truly G.o.d was giving him everything he desired of him. He said,--

”I am glad to stand, here to the last, at the side of that faithful soldier and servant of Christ. For when we go in there together, I dare not hope to be so highly honoured as to take a place beside him.”

At this point the prior broke in. ”Senor and my brother, your words are wasted. He is given over to the power of the evil one. Let us leave him.” And drawing his mantle round him, he turned to go, without looking again towards Carlos.

But Carlos came forward. ”Pardon me, my lord; I have a few words yet to say to you;” and, stretching out his hand to detain him, he unconsciously touched his arm with it.

The prior flung it off with a gesture of angry scorn. There was contamination in that touch. ”I have heard too many words from your lips already,” he said.

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