"Perez," said the king, reseating himself, "has the person we expected
from Granada yet arrived?"

"Sire, yes; accompanied by a maiden."

"He hath kept his word; admit them. Ha! holy father, thy visits are
always as balsam to the heart."

"Save you, my son!" returned a man in the robes of a Dominican friar, who
had entered suddenly and without ceremony by another part of the tent,
and who now seated himself with smileless composure at a little distance
from the king.

There was a dead silence for some moments; and Perez still lingered
within the tent, as if in doubt whether the entrance of the friar would
not prevent or delay obedience to the king's command. On the calm face
of Ferdinand himself appeared a slight shade of discomposure and
irresolution, when the monk thus resumed:

"My presence, my son, will not, I trust, disturb your conference with the
infidel--since you deem that worldly policy demands your parley with the
men of Belial."

"Doubtless not--doubtless not," returned the king, quickly: then,
muttering to himself, "how wondrously doth this holy man penetrate into
all our movements and designs!" he added, aloud, "Let the messenger
enter."

Perez bowed, and withdrew.