Yet presently a doubt crept in, a doubt that she
must at all costs resolve. And so presently she called for her
litter, and had herself carried to the Convent of St. Paul, where
she asked to see Frey Alonso de Ojeda, the Prior of the
Dominicans of Seville.
She was left to wait in a square, cheerless, dimly-lighted room
pervaded by a musty smell, that had for only furniture a couple
of chairs and a praying-stool, and for only ornament a great,
gaunt crucifix hanging upon one of its whitewashed walls.
Thither came presently two Dominican friars. One of these was a
harsh-featured man of middle height and square build, the
uncompromising zealot Ojeda. The other was tall and lean,
stooping slightly at the shoulders, haggard and pale of
countenance, with deep-set, luminous dark eyes, and a tender,
wistful mouth. This was the Queen's confessor, Frey Tomas de
Torquemada, Grand Inquisitor of Castile. He approached her,
leaving Ojeda in the background, and stood a moment regarding her
with eyes of infinite kindliness and compassion.
"You are the daughter of that misguided man, Diego de Susan," he
said, in a gentle voice. "God help and strengthen you, my child,
against the trials that may be in store for you.
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