“For the sake of truth and justice thou hast done it,” replied Caya, “and thou shalt have thy reward.” “Thou knowest not what it is to fight against the temptations which nature puts in our path--pray that thou mayest not know them.” “I have had a victory many times over such,” said Caya, “or thou wouldst not now be queen. Perchance other such temptations may arise--and oh, Elvira, be sure they shall not overcome me.” Caya spoke prophetically, but even _she_ could not have guessed how soon or to what an extent her constancy was to be tried. Garcia left the council maddened with rage, and burning with thoughts of vengeance, not only against Ramiro, who had supplanted him in his love, and Pedro, who had been made deputy, principally with the intent that he should watch and counteract his villanies, but against Elvira and Caya, and even Blanca. Some faint outlines of a design either to cut off Sancho himself, and usurp the whole of his father’s possessions, or at least compel him to share the sovereignty with him, began also to connect themselves together in his thoughts. In short, he was determined that he should accomplish the ruin of all, and that some blow should be struck instantly, for Sancho was already on his way to Navarre. A circumstance, of trifling moment in itself, furnished him with sufficiently plausible means of entering at once upon his plan. Sancho had taken in fight from a Moorish chieftain a most beautiful horse, which in a short time became such a favourite with him, that, fearing some accident would deprive him of the noble steed amidst the perils of war, he had sent him home to Elvira, with strict injunctions that no one should be suffered to mount him in his absence. These injunctions were forgotten by the queen, who suffered Don Pedro to use the animal occasionally. This fact Garcia laid hold of to sustain him in accusing the queen of adultery with Don Pedro, and he announced to the nobles his intention of so doing on the arrival of his father.