"Son," said the priest, "when, as one of that sublime calling, which
enables us to place our unshodden feet upon the necks of kings, I felt
that I had the power to serve and to exalt you; when as confessor to
Philip, I backed the patronage of Lerma, recommended you to the royal
notice, and brought you into the sunshine of the royal favour--it was
because I had read in your heart and brain those qualities of which the
spiritual masters of the world ever seek to avail their cause. I knew
thee brave, crafty, aspiring, unscrupulous. I knew that thou wouldest
not shrink at the means that could secure to thee a noble end. Yea,
when, years ago, in the valley of the Xenil, I saw thee bathe thy hands
in the blood of thy foe, and heard thy laugh of exulting scorn;--when I,
alone master of thy secret, beheld thee afterwards flying from thy home
stained with a second murder, but still calm, stern, and lord of thine
own reason, my knowledge of mankind told me, 'Of such men are high
converts and mighty instruments made!'"

The priest paused; for Calderon heard him not. His cheek was livid, his
eyes closed, his chest heaved wildly. "Horrible remembrance!" he
muttered; "fatal love--dread revenge! Inez--Inez, what hast thou to
answer for!"

"Be soothed, my son; I meant not to tear the bandage from thy wounds."

"Who speaks?" cried Calderon, starting. "Ha, priest! priest! I thought
I heard the Dead. Talk on, talk on: talk of the world--the
Inquisition--thy plots--the torture--the rack! Talk of aught that
will lead me back from the past."

"No; let me for a moment lead thee thither, in order to portray the
future that awaits thee. When, at night, I found thee--the blood-stained