"I do not see," she said, "that I can do anything for
you."

There was a chair beside her. She sat down, her chin on
her hand and her eyes lowered. Silence held save for the
fountain plashing. Don Enrique stood by the railing, and
Jayme de Marchena felt his concern. But he himself walked
just then--Don Jayme or Juan Lepe--into long patience,
into greater steadfastness. Into the inner fields came translucence,
gold light; came and faded, but left strength.

Dona Beatrix raised her eyes and let them dwell upon
me. "Spain breeds bold knights," she said, "but not so
many after all who are bold within! Not so many, I think,
as are found in Italy or in France." She paused a moment,
looking at the sky above the roofs, then came back to me.
"It is hopeless, and you must see it, to talk in those terms
to the only powers that can lead the Holy Office to forget
that you live! It is hopeless to talk to the Queen, telling
her that. She would hold that she had entertained heresy,
and her imagination would not let her alone. I see naught
in this world for you to do but to go out of it into another!
There are other lands--"

A damsel hurried to her from the door. "There's a stir
below, Madam! Something has brought the Queen home
earlier than we thought--"

The Marchioness de Moya rose. Don Enrique kissed her