“And have they none with her?” demanded the Queen.  “But whom can they have, save her own terrified women?  Inez—­Leonor—­go to her at once!  Your skill and tenderness will soon revive her; this silly child is terrified at shadows.  ’Tis but a faint, such as followed the announcement of her husband’s death.  If any one dare refuse you entrance, tell them you go in your Queen’s name.  Foolish trembler,” she added, in a tone of relief, as her commands were instantly obeyed, “why this excessive agitation, when thou hast seen a faint like this before?”

“Nay, but by your leave, gracious madam, I have not,” replied Catherine, with emotion.  “There is far more of horror in this; she is cold—­cold, like stone; and they have planted a guard at the entrance of her apartments, and they tell a tale so wild and strange, I cannot give it credence!”

“Ha! what say they?” demanded the Queen hastily, her eyes flashing with light, as they always did when she was excited.  “What can it be, too wild and strange for thy hair-brained fancy to believe?  Marvellous it must be indeed!”

Isabella spoke jestingly, but her heart was not with her words:  and Catherine replied with tears starting to her eyes, “Oh, do not speak thus, my liege.  It is indeed no theme for jest.”  And she continued so rapidly, that to any but the quickened mind of Isabella, her words must have seemed unintelligible.  “They say she is a heretic, royal madam!  Nay, worse—­a blaspheming unbeliever; that she has refused to take the oath, on plea of not believing in the Holy Catholic Church; that she has insulted, has trampled on the sacred cross!  Nor is this all—­worse, yet worse; they say she has proclaimed herself a JEWESS!—­an abhorred, an unbelieving Jewess!”

A general start and loud exclamation of horror was the natural rejoinder to this unlooked-for intelligence; but not from Isabella, whose flashing eyes were still fixed on the young girl’s face, as to read in her soul the confirmation of these strange words.  “What dost thou say?” she said at length, and so slowly, a second might have intervened between each word.  “Speak! let me hear again!  A Jewess!  Santa Maria!  But no; it cannot be.  They must have told thee false!”

So the Queen spoke; but ere Catherine had concluded a calmer repetition of the tale, Marie’s words of the preceding evening rushed back on her mind, confirming it but too surely.  “To-morrow all will be distinct and clear enough!” she had said; ay, distinct it was; and so engrossingly intense became the thoughts thronging in her mind, bewildering succession, that Isabella sat motionless, her brow leaning on her hand, wholly unconscious of the lapse of time.

A confusion in the gallery, and the words, “The King! the King!” roused her at length; and never was the appearance of Ferdinand more welcome, not only to Isabella, but to her attendants, as giving them the longed-for opportunity to retire, and so satisfy curiosity, and give vent to the wonderment which, from their compelled silence in Isabella’s presence, had actually become intolerable.