Old Juana, with very
evident reluctance, confirmed this account; but Father Francis was
evidently not satisfied. "Amongst these incoherent ravings of the
prisoner, did you ever distinguish the word 'murder?'" he demanded--a
question which would be strange, indeed, in the court of justice of
the present day, but of importance in an age when such words as blood
and vengeance, amongst warriors, simply signified a determination to
fight out their quarrel in (so-called) honorable combat. The answer,
after some hesitation, was in the negative. "Did you ever distinguish
any name, as the object of Senor Stanley's desired vengeance?"
Pedro immediately answered "No;" but there was a simper of hesitation
in old Juana, that caused the Sub-Prior to appeal to her. "Please your
Reverence, I only chanced to hear the poor young man say, 'Oh, Marie!
Marie!' one day when I brought him his dinner, which he put away
untouched, though I put my best cooking in it."
A slight, scarcely perceptible flush passed over the prisoner's cheek
and brow. The King muttered an exclamation; Father Francis's brow
contracted, and several of the nobles looked uneasily from one to the
other.
"At what time did the prisoner leave his apartments the night of the
murder?" continued the Sub-Prior.
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