Gloom was on every face she encountered in the castle. The very
soldiers, as they saluted her as the wife of their general, appeared
to gaze upon her with rude, yet earnest commiseration; but neither
word nor rumor reached her ear. Several times she essayed to ask of
her husband, but the words died in a soundless quiver on her lip. Yet
if it were what she dreaded, that Stanley had fulfilled his threat,
and they had fought, and one had fallen--why was she thus summoned?
And had not Morales resolved to avoid him; for her sake not to avenge
Arthur's insulting words? And again the thought of their fatal secret
obtained ascendency. Five minutes more, and she stood alone in the
presence of her Sovereign.

* * * * *

It was told; and with such deep sympathy, so gently, so cautiously,
that all of rude and stunning shock was averted; but, alas! who could
breathe of consolation at such a moment? Isabella did not attempt it;
but permitted the burst of agony full vent. She had so completely
merged all of dignity, all of the Sovereign into the woman and the
friend, that Marie neither felt nor exercised restraint; and words
mingled with her broken sobs and wild lament, utterly incomprehensible
to the noble heart that heard. The awful nature of Don Ferdinand's
death, Isabella had still in some measure concealed; but it seemed as
if Marie had strangely connected it with violence and blood, and, in
fearful and disjointed words, accused herself as its miserable cause.

"Why did not death come to me?" she reiterated; "why take him, my
husband--my noble husband? Oh, Ferdinand, Ferdinand! to go now, when I
have so learnt to love thee! now, when I looked to years of faithful