“But the king, my lord! The king--he has forsaken you. He sends these troops. I know it,” put in Morales, coming to the front in spite of the terror with which the constable inspires him. “Hearing the movement in the town, I have been down among the alguazils who accompany the troops. They say that their mission is to seize the High Constable and carry him to Valladolid a prisoner. Fly, my dear master! Let _us_ die for you!” More eager than Gotor, the tears stream from Morales’s eyes as he dares to advance and touch the Conde on the arm.
“No,” answers Luna, shaking him off, and with a stately step turning to pace up and down the chamber. “It is false that Don Juan has himself sent for me. He may be foolish, weak, deceived; but he will never betray his faithful friend.”
“For the love of God, believe me!” pleads Morales, again pressing on the Conde, no muscle of whose face had changed.
“That my enemies are below I do not doubt,” he replies, “but that they are sent by the king, no voice but his own shall convince me.”
“Then, my dear master, we must defend you. Call our slender garrison together, and man the walls with their crossbows.”
No reply comes. Gotor hastily turns towards the door, but the impetuous Morales is before him. The heavy panels turn on their hinges, the lock closes loudly in the silence, and Luna is again alone.
What could those devoted servants do against the strong force under Conde de Zuniga? A few crossbows were discharged, some swords were drawn. Morales fell wounded, Gotor was taken prisoner, and the besieged were overpowered.
Zuniga, furious at the opposition, appeared on the platform in front of the castle gate clad in a complete suit of dark armour greaved with steel, wearing his visor down, preceded by a herald bearing the red and yellow flag of Spain.
“In the name of Don Juan, King of Castile and Leon,” cries the herald. “Oh, hear, hear him. I, Don Alfonso de Zuniga, leading the armies of the king, command Don Alvarez de Luna, Constable of Castile and Leon, instantly to surrender his person for trial on the charge of foul murder, or the castle of Portello shall be consigned to the flames. Lord High Constable, I call on you, in the king’s name, to answer.”