CHAPTER XXII.
"Meekly had he bowed and prayed, As not disdaining priestly aid; And while before the Prior kneeling, His heart was weaned from earthly feeling: No more reproach, no more despair-- No thought but heaven, no word but prayer." BYRON.
Time passed slowly on, and no proof appeared to clear Arthur Stanley's fame.

All that man's judgment could counsel, was adopted--secret measures were taken throughout Spain, for the apprehension of any individual suspected of murder, or even of criminal deeds; constant prayers offered up, that if Arthur Stanley were not the real murderer, proofs of his innocence might be made so evident that not even his greatest enemy could doubt any longer; but all seemed of no avail.
Week after week passed, and with the exception of one most mysterious occurrence, affairs remained the same.

So strong was the belief of the nobles in his innocence, that the most strenuous exertions were made in his favor; but, strong as Ferdinand's own wish was to save him, his love of justice was still stronger; though the testimony of Don Luis might be set aside, calm deliberation on all the evidence against him marked it as sufficiently strong to have sentenced any other so accused at once.

The resolute determination to purge their kingdom from the black crimes of former years, which both sovereigns felt and unitedly acted upon, urged them to conquer every private wish and feeling, rather than depart from the line laid down.

The usual dispensers of justice, the Santa Hermandad--men chosen by their brother citizens for their lucid judgment, clearness of perception, and utter absence of all overplus of chivalrous feeling, in matters of cool dispassionate reasoning--were unanimous in their belief in the prisoner's guilt, and only acquiesced in the month's reprieve, because it was Isabella's wish.