confessor, yesterday Bishop of Avila but now Archbishop
of Granada. Behind him moved two lesser ecclesiastics,
and with these Don Alonzo de Quintanella, Comptroller-
General of Castile. Others followed, nobles and
cavaliers, two soberly clad men who looked like secretaries,
a Franciscan friar, three or four pages. The room was
large and had a table covered with a rich cloth, two great
chairs and a few lesser ones.

The painter and Don Enrique bent low to the Majesty
of Castile. In the background Juan Lepe made squire's
obeisance. I was bearded and my face stained with a
Moorish stain, and I was in shadow; it was idle to fear
recognition that might never come. The Queen seated herself,
and her daughter beside her, and with her good smile
motioned the Archbishop to a chair. The two ecclesiastics,
both venerable men, were given seats. The rest of the company
stood. The Queen's blue eyes rested on Don Enrique.
She spoke in a clear, mild voice, threaded with dignity.
"Were you summoned thither, Don Enrique de Cerda?"

He answered, "No, Highness! I came to the palace to
seek Master Manuel Rodriguez who is to paint for me an
altarpiece for the Church of Saint Dominic. You and the
King, Madam, I thought were in Granada. Not finding him
in his own lodging, I made bold to come here. Then at
once, before I could hasten away, you returned!"

The true nature of this Queen was to think no evil. Her
countenance remained mild. He had done valiant service,