So calm is Blanche and her voice so clear, as she fixes her large eyes steadfastly on the priest, as if looking beyond him into another world, that neither he nor Claire dare trouble her with words. Then she confesses, kneeling on the stones, and at the conclusion, taking the priest’s hand in hers, she meekly kisses it, and begs to be interred at Xeres. “For else,” she says, “they may dispute the possession of my body in death as they have done in life, and the king’s mistress, Maria de Padilla, might do some dishonour to it, which is not meet, seeing that I am of royal blood, and the rightful Queen of Castile.” And even in the agony of her grief Claire wondered to hear Blanche speak with such dignity and judgment, for, up to that time since they had left Toledo, her senses had seemed dulled, and she had said nothing of all that was in her mind. Anon the low door creaks on its hinges and a figure appears, completely shrouded in black. The head is covered by a cowl with slits for eyes; in one hand is a torch, which throws a glare in the chamber like blood; the other lies concealed in the mantle. At this horrible sight Blanche loses all her composure. She shrieks aloud, and burying herself in the arms of Claire clings closely to the stone walls. But the priest exhorting her with holy words, she speedily regains her courage, and turning to the executioner speaks with a gentle voice. “Friend, I pardon you. You must obey the king, who sends you, as I do in dying here.” And rising to her feet, a kind of glory gathers on her face; all her young beauty comes back to her again, such as she was when, as a happy girl, she left Narbonne a bride. “I am but eighteen years old, and I am about to die, a virgin, as I have lived. The crown which was put on my head was one of sorrow; I hope to find a better in another world. My father,” turning to the priest, who is bowed down with grief, “if it be possible, commend me to my sister, the Queen of France, and to my father, and tell them I have not disgraced them by any act.” And with these words upon her lips, she kneels down, the executioner seizes her, and passes the fatal bowstring round her throat. * * * * * According to a legend of the time, Blanche of Bourbon was interred in the old cathedral at Xeres, but as an entirely new building was erected in 1695, no record of her burying-place remains. CHAPTER XVI Death of Maria de Padilla--Don Juan de Mañara Foremost in the fighting at Toledo, when Don Pedro drove out Don Enrique de Trastamare and took Queen Blanche prisoner, was his favourite, Don Juan de Mañara, an historical profligate of no small fame in poetry and music, and dreaded by husbands and fathers.