She was so sure now, that she was wondering dreamily why it took so long to die, seeing that death had taken him so quickly.
Could one shaft be aimed so straight and could the next miss the mark?
She shook all over, as a new dread seized her.

She was not dying,--her life clung too closely to her suffering body, her heart was too young and strong to stand still in her breast for grief.

She was to live, and bear that same pain a lifetime.

She rocked herself gently on her knees, bowing her head almost to the floor.
She was roused by the sound of her father's voice, and the words he was speaking sent a fresh shock of horror through her unutterable grief, for they told her that Don John was dead, and then something else so strange that she could not understand it.
Philip had stood only a few moments, sword in hand, over his brother's body, staring down at his face, when the door opened.

On the threshold stood old Mendoza, half-stunned by the sight he saw.