But there was no kindliness in the expressionless tone, nor any life in those dull eyes. "There would be less kindliness if he knew how he bade Nick Beauvallet welcome," thought Sir Nicholas, as he rose to his feet. Philip, sitting so still in his chair, seemed to study him for a moment. It was tense, that moment, fraught with peril. Sir Nicholas stood calmly under the scrutiny; they were not to know how ready to be out was the sword at his side. The moment passed. "You have letters for us," said the slow voice. Beauvallet brought the silken packet out from the breast of his doublet, came to the table, knelt again, and so offered it. The King's hand touched his as he took the packet; the fingers felt cold and slightly damp. He gave the packet to the secretary, and made a movement to Beauvallet to rise. "Your first visit to Spain, señor?" "My first, sire." Philip inclined his head. The secretary had slit the silken wrapper, and now spread crackling sheets before his master. Philip's eyes travelled slowly over the first page, but never changed in their lack-lustre expression. "I see you are cousin to the Duc de Guise, señor," he remarked, and pushed the sheets away from him on the table's polished surface. "We will look over these matters, and have an answer for you in a week or so." Haste was a word not in his Majesty's vocabulary. He spoke to the secretary. "Vasquez, if Don Diaz de Losa is in the palace you will send to fetch him." He brought his gaze back to Beauvallet. "Don Diaz will look to your entertainment, señor. Your lodging?" Beauvallet gave the name of his inn. Philip seemed to consider it. "Yes, it is best," he said. "You are not here officially." "I give out, sire, that I am travelling for my pleasure." "That is well," said Philip. "You will contrive to pass the time pleasantly, I trust. Madrid has much to show." "I have promised myself a ride out to see the great Escorial, sire," said Sir Nicholas, assuming reverential tones. Some spark of life entered Philip's eyes, enthusiasm into his dead voice. He began to talk of his vast palace, nearing its completion, he said. He talked as one absorbed in his theme, as in a holy matter, and was still talking when Matteo de Vasquez came back into the room. He was accompanied by a stately gentleman of middle years, dressed very magnificently, in contrast to the black-garbed King. The brief enthusiasm left Philip. He presented Don Diaz de Losa, and consigned the Chevalier to his care. In the wake of this nobleman Beauvallet bowed himself out of the King's cabinet.