Right and left of the coffin went two penitents, their faces covered by a hood of coarse material, and, below, the sackcloth tunic showing their bare and bleeding feet cut by the stones of the road; they were those two "thunderbolts of war," Alexander Farnese and D. John of Austria. Behind them came the Duque de Alba, with uncovered head, followed and surrounded by the University communities, students, nobility, clergy, courtiers and professors, not in a devout and orderly procession, but all anyhow, filling up the streets like a wave of sorrow and bitterness, which carried to the palace the body of Fr. Diego, which was to save the only male heir of the Crown of Spain. The body entered the Prince's room, the doors of which were already wide open, as is proper for those of a death-chamber, and all followed who could, without order, precedence or arrangement. The Prince was lying in bed on his back, his eyes closed through swelling of the lids, his nose pinched, his mouth open, and his hoarse breathing coming with difficulty from his dry throat. They placed the coffin on the bed, touching the body of the Prince; the Prior of St. Francis took one of the inert hands and placed it gently on Fr. Diego's chest. An unnatural silence reigned, during which no one breathed, a leaf dropping would have been heard, the wings of the Guardian Angel bore to heaven these clamours of faith, these tears of hope. Suddenly the Prince turned towards the coffin, and the rattle changed to gentle breathing. The terror of the supernatural possessed them all, and made the hair of many stand on end. Ten minutes later a gentle sleep overcame the Prince, which lasted for six hours. They all went out on tiptoe, holding their breath; silently the body was taken out. On waking the Prince called D. John of Austria, and told him that during this sleep he had seen Fr. Diego de Alcalá in his Franciscan habit, with a cross of reeds tied with a green ribbon. The saint had told him that this time he would not die. Nor did he. CHAPTER IV D. Carlos left Alcalá to complete his convalescence in Madrid on the 17th of July, and Alexander Farnese and D. John of Austria remained alone to continue their studies until the end of 1564. D. John was then at the dangerous age of adolescence, when nature unconsciously awakes, and the imagination wanders in unknown spheres, giving rise to strange fears, vague desires, and curious dreams which trouble the mind and heart, and sadly often lead the will from the right road, if some evil influence changes its course. D. John, however, was too high-minded and had been too well guarded for the vulgar influence of the student crew to affect him. These students, of whom Alarcón has since said in the "Verdad sospechosa":