“Why do you think so, Alva?” demanded Philip, quickly. “My father suffers much from gout; but gout, physicians tell me, keeps off all other ailments, and those afflicted with it live long in consequence. When he last wrote to me, the Emperor reported himself in good case.” “Saints keep him so!” cried the Duke. “Yet, as I have just said, ere two years are over, your Highness will surely be King of Spain and Emperor of Germany.” “What means this prediction?” inquired Philip looking inquiringly at him. “It means that the Emperor your father, tired with the cares of government, designs to surrender his kingdoms to you.” “Has he said aught of his intent to you, Alva?—or is it mere surmise on your part?” demanded the Prince, unable to disguise the interest he took in the question. “Your Highness will excuse me if I decline to state how I obtained the information,” rejoined the Duke; “but I will stake my life on its correctness.” Philip said nothing more, but remained for some time with his hand upon his lips, absorbed in thought. The flush that overspread his cheeks showed he was much excited. Alva kept his keen eye fixed upon him, and seemed to read what was passing in his breast. After a while, Philip broke the silence. “It may be as you say,” he remarked; “yet I do not think my father will part lightly with his crown. In a moment of weariness he may talk of abdicating in my favour—but when the fit is over, the design will pass away with it. How would he spend his days if not employed by state affairs?” “In retirement and holy meditation—in preparation for eternity. Such is his Majesty’s intent.” “If it be so it is a praiseworthy resolution; and it is to be hoped that Heaven may keep him in it. However, all is uncertain—the firmest man may change his mind.” “Your Highness says right. Therefore, it will be well to secure a crown in case of accident. Neither do I despair of your doing so. The English nation, they say, hate us Spaniards. What matter? They cannot hate us worse than we hate them. They fear our yoke. Let us give them reason for their fears by ruling them so severely that they shall not dare to move hand or foot, save at our pleasure. With such a people nothing but hard and sanguinary measures will do. Their late King, Henry VIII., knew that well, and his subjects obeyed him, crouching at his feet like beaten hounds. But to impose our yoke upon them, we must go beyond the despot Henry. We must pour forth the blood of the English nobles like water, seize upon their possessions, and assume their titles. Do this, extirpate heresy, establish the Inquisition, and your Highness need fear no rebellion.” Alva’s eyes blazed as he gave this counsel, and his countenance assumed an expression so terrible that even Philip regarded him with awe.