kissed the letter passionately, placed it in his breast, and hurried into
the chamber where he had left his child. Our tale returns to Fonseca.




CHAPTER IX.

THE COUNTERPLOT.

Calderon had not long left the young soldier before the governor of the
prison entered to pay his respects to a captive of such high birth and
military reputation.

Fonseca, always blunt and impatient of mood, was not in a humour to
receive and return compliments; but the governor had scarcely seated
himself ere he struck a chord in the conversation which immediately
arrested the attention and engaged the interest of the prisoner.

"Do not fear, sir," said he, "that you will be long detained; the power
of your enemy is great, but it will not be of duration. The storm is
already gathering round him; he must be more than man if he escapes the
thunderbolt."

"Do you speak to me thus of my kinsman, the Cardinal-Duke de Lerma?"

"No, Don Martin, pardon me. I spoke of the Marquis de Siete Iglesias.
Are you so great a stranger to Madrid and to the court as to suppose that
the Cardinal de Lerma ever signs a paper but at the instance of Don
Roderigo? Nay, that he ever looks over the paper to which he sets his