"Why?"
"Because tonight? Even now, as we stand here talking? The Princess, Julia is being privately married to Count Ritrón de Zoba in the royal chapel."
"What do you tell me?"
"Only what? I am told, your majesty."
"Good find!" Philip muttered in the agony that visited him upon hearing this announcement. "That she should be brought to this:"
His hand unconsciously fell upon the hilt of the sword that swung at his side. His eyes sought the face of Juan Lopez. This last nodded, with a look of perfect understanding.
"Lead me to this chapel." Philip ordered.
"There is a little gallery above the chapel." Martin suggested, on route, "whence you could look down and see the ceremony? If it be not yet ended without being seen? Provided that you were very silent in entering."
"That will serve excellently."
They made fast work of the tangled corridors, arriving speedily at a small oaken door.
Opening this with the most extreme stealth, Martin peered through, then stood aside, that Philip and Juan might precede him.
"Your Majesty is just in time," he said.
It was true that the ceremony taking place in the old oak paneled chapel beneath the little gallery in which they paused had reached a point which focused the attention of all present exclusively upon the two principal actors.
Not a soul of those below seemed aware of the entrance of the three to the gallery. It is, however, true that there were but few present.  Other than the priests and the bride and groom, evidently Martin had been well advised in asserting that this was a private wedding. 