The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1904-09-02

! Again the meaning look crossed hel
features, and now her glance wa
turned to . little tapestry-hung dool
that led from the hall at the right
hand side of the throne. He watched
her narrowly, and saw that the In
scription, broidered in large, black let
tiers on the hangings' lower end
seemed to hold her attention. The
tapestry itself was q crude bit Of
work. On a white charger, King AL
fonso the Wise, surrounded by his
knights, watched the hang-man fling
ing into the flames of the Toledan bon
fire the sacred books of the Mozarabil
ritual. Beneath, ran the staring gothic
letters of the inscription, 10 que
hace ell rey. es bien hecho" (That
which the king does. is well done).
Again her eyes returned to the retiec-
ton on the floor, and Don Diego IN
derstood. The little pantomime had
taken but . few minutes, yet it was
another man who stood before the
monarch now. Everything was clear
to him. The old woman had said that
the unknown assassin was fair-ha1red.
The kings mistress had Enthusiastically
pointed out his reflection on the pol
ished surface of the oak, and the in
scription completed the chain OF cir
cumstantial evidence. The bland,
smiling monster on the throne was
the slayer, and secure in the knowl-
edge of the others ignorance, was
gloating over the prospect of his ap-,
preaching end. There was only one
possible way in which he might save
himself.
Once more he bowed to the throne.
II have but one request to make OF
your majesty" he cried. "Give me "a
hours, and Don Sancho's murderer
swings from the gallows in the Plaza
de San Francisco. Your majesty shall
see him face to face"
The kings smile grew and broad
ened. Was ever comedy more anus
ing.
Can you offer us this proof of your
vigilance and skill? How happily shall
be relieved of my VOW" he an
swered, land what is more, you shall
have from the royal treasure a grant
of 10000 duros of gold the better to
maintain your high Office as governor
Of Seville"
II thank you with all my heart for
this boon. Your majesty shall not be
disappointed" was Don Diego's re-
joinder, as he backed from the royal
presence. The sitting was over, and
king and courtiers repaired to the cool
gardens Of the alcazar for rest and
refreshment.
The morning dawned, but the al
cayde had not been idle. A skilled arti-
hcer in the Moorish quarter had fash
Toned a cunning image of the king
his very double in every respect, even
to the color of his hair. and this dunn
my now swayed and dangled from the
lofty gibbet in the Plaza de San Fran
cisco, filling the gaping crowd with
wonder and delight, not unmixed,
however, with some secret fear. The
alcayde, together with his officials,
refined their steeds toward the right OF
the high wooden platform, along the
way the royal cortege would have to
take.
They had not long to wait, for the
kings curiosity had been aroused in
the highest degree. Near the tenth
hour, announced by the blare of trum-
pet and atabal, preceded by steel-clad
men-at-arms, and surrounded by q
glittering throng of lords and mobiles,
himself on a huge black charger, Dom
Pedro appeared. A cloak Of dark
crimson velours set of his costume Of
black silk, the ostrich plume that
curled gracefully round his barrett was
fastened by the great balas ruby, for
which he had shamelessly slain his
guest, the Moorish king of Grenada.
and the gold-inlaid trappings Of his
destrier shone like fire In the bright
sunlight. Followed by his train, he
swept along until the foot of the GAL
lows was reached, then reined in his
mount and looked aloft There was
an instant and universal hush. A hot
flush rose to his pallid cheeks, one
hand frightened on the reins. while the
other half-drew the jewelled dagger
that hung at his belt. But he con-
trolled his emotion, and motioned Don
Diego to approach. The alcayde, bow
ing to his horses flowing name, drew
near.
"Senor Alcayde," the king said.
slowly, you are beyond doubt the
most daring man in my dominions;
but since justice has been done I au
Your grant shall be made
out in form tomorrow"
Again Don Diego bent to his horses
name, then, lifting his hand he cried
in laundering tones: Long live Dom
Pedro, the just king"
Taken up by the multitude, his out
Grey reechoed through the square.
Again the trumpets blared and tbs
royal procession moved on toward the
palace. ..'' .4,t. ,.
In Don Diego dc Guzman's oratory
there was one little shrine which he
never neglected. It held no picture Of
either saint or Madonna, only the
portrait Of q pure, beautiful face.
whose eyes look with q gaze Of deep
est meaning into the room. Here he