cavalier with all the respect and worship due to his birth and merits.
Go, Don Martin, go," he added, in a lower voice; "go, unless you desire
to lose Beatriz for ever. Nothing but obedience can save you from the
imprisonment of half a life!"

Awed and subdued by this threat, Fonseca, in gloomy silence, placed his
sword in its sheath, and sullenly followed the alguazils. Calderon
watched them depart with a thoughtful and absent look; then, starting
from his reverie, he bade his torchbearers proceed, and resumed his way
to the Prince of Spain.




CHAPTER VII

THE OPEN COUNTENANCE, THE CONCEALED THOUGHTS

The next day, at noon, Calderon visited Fonseca in his place of
confinement. The young man was seated by a window that overlooked a
large dull court-yard, with a neglected and broken fountain in the
centre, leaning his cheek upon his hand. His long hair was dishevelled,
his dress disordered, and a gloomy frown darkened features naturally open
and ingenuous. He started to his feet as Calderon approached. "My
release--you have brought my release--let us forth!"

"My dear pupil, be ruled, be calm. I have seen the duke: the cause of
your imprisonment is as I suspected. Some imprudent words, overheard,
perhaps, but by your valet, have escaped you; words intimating your
resolution not to abandon Beatriz. You know your kinsman, a mail of