In the proud consciousness of innocence, Don Guzman had refused to offer any defense, and as no attempt was made to disprove the accusation, his silence was construed into an admission of guilt, and he was condemned to die the death of a traitor. In the same calm silence Don Guzman heard the sentence; the color faded not from his cheek, his eye quailed not, and with as firm a step as he entered that judgment-hall, he quitted it for the cell of the condemned. And if now his brow was contracted--his step unequal; if now his breath came short and thick--it was because the thought of his betrothed, the fair, the gentle Donna Estella, lay heavy at his heart. He pictured her, ignorant of his situation, waiting for him in her father's stately halls on the banks of the Guadalquiver--and awaiting him in vain. What marvel that love should make him weak whom death could not appall! Calavarez, imagining that he had been hitherto unheeded, again repeated the monarch's commands, and announced that Don Ruy Lopez now held such rank in the church as qualified him to render the last offices to a grandee of Spain. The young nobleman on the instant bent his knee to the new bishop, and craved his blessing. Then, turning to Calavarez, he haughtily pointed to the door. "We need not your presence, sir; begone. In three hours I shall be ready." And how were these three hours passed? First came short shrift--soon made. With a natural levity of character, which even this solemn hour could not subdue, Don Guzman turned from the grave exhortations of his confessor, as he dwelt upon the last great change. "Change, indeed!" cried the duke; "how different were the circumstances in which we last met. Do you not remember you were playing your famous game with Paoli Boz, the Sicilian, in the presence of Philip and the whole court, and it was on my arm that the king leaned? Change, indeed! Well has Cervantes said, 'Life is a game of chess.' I have forgotten the precise words, but the passage runs to this effect--that upon the earth, as upon the chess-board, men are playing different parts, as ordered by fate, fortune, and birth. And when death's checkmate comes, the game is finished, and the human pieces lie in the grave huddled together, like the chessmen in the box." "I remember these words of Don Quixotte," said Ruy Lopez, "and I also remember Sancho's reply--that though the comparison was a good one, it was not altogether so new, but that he had heard it before. But these are not subjects for such an hour as this; may the Lord forgive this unseemly levity!" The duke went on, without heeding Don Lopez, "I, too, have had my triumphs in chess; and even from you, holy father, have I sometimes wrested a trophy. You used to be proud of me as your pupil." "It is quite true," answered the bishop; "your play is masterly; and I have often gloried in having been your first instructor."