Free Daughters of Spain by Jean Plaidy, 6.95 Page B

could contemplate undisturbed the hardships which would certainly befall the Jews of Portugal if Emanuel accepted this new condition, yet must needs worry about a man who, but for chance, might have committed fratricide - and all because that man happened to be his own brother.

    The Princess Isabella looked from her mother to the stern face of Torquemada.
    Her throat was dry; she felt that if she had tried to protest the words would not come. Her mother had an expression of tenderness yet determination. The Princess knew that the Queen had made up her mind - or perhaps that this stern-faced man who had once been her confessor had made it up for her as he had so many times before. She felt powerless between them. They asked for her consent, but they did not need it. It would be as they wished, not as she did.
    She tried once more. 'I could not go into Portugal.'
    Torquemada had risen, and she thought suddenly of those men and women who were taken in the dead of night to his secret prisons and there interrogated, until from weariness - and from far worse, she knew - agreed with what he wished them to say.
    'It is the duty of a daughter of Spain to do what is good for Spain,' said Torquemada. 'It is sinful to say "I do not wish that." "I do not care to do that." It matters not. This is your duty. You must do your duty or imperil your soul.'
    'It is you who say it is my duty,' she answered. 'How can I be sure that it is?'
    'My daughter,' said the Queen, 'that which will bring benefit to Spain is your duty and the duty of us all.'
    'Mother,' cried the Princess, 'you do not know what you are asking of me.'
    'I know full well. It is your cross, my dearest. You must carry it.'
    'You carry a two-edged sword for Spain,' said Torquemada. 'You can make this marriage which will secure our frontiers, and you can help to establish firmly the Christian Faith on Portuguese soil.'
    'I am sure Emanuel will never agree to the expulsion of the Jews,' cried Isabella. 'I know him. I have talked with him. He has what are called liberal ideas. He wants freedom of thought in Portugal. He said so. He will never agree.'
    'Freedom for sin,' retorted Torquemada. 'He wishes for this marriage. It shall be our condition.'
    'I cannot do it,' said Isabella wearily.
    'Think what it means,' whispered her mother. 'You will have the great glory of stamping out heresy in your new country.'
    'Dearest Mother, I do not care ...'
    'Hush, hush!' It was the thunderous voice of Torquemada. 'For that you could be brought before the tribunal.'
    'It is my daughter to whom you speak,' the Queen put in with some coldness.
    'Highness, it is not the first time I have had to remind you of your duty.'
    The Queen was meekly silent. It was true. This man had a more rigorous sense of duty than she had. She could not help itif her love for her family often came between her and her duty.
    She must range herself on his side. Ferdinand would insist on this marriage taking place. They had indulged their daughter too long. And, if they could insist on this condition, that would be a blow struck for Holy Church, so she must forget her tenderness for her daughter and put herself on the side of righteousness.
    Her voice was stern as she addressed her daughter: 'You should cease to behave like a child. You are a woman and a daughter of the Royal House. You will prepare yourself to accept this marriage, for I shall send a dispatch to Emanuel this day.'
    Torquemada's features were drawn into lines of approval. He did not smile. He never smiled. But this expression was as near to a smile as he could come.
    When her mother spoke like that, Isabella knew that it was useless to protest; she lowered her head and said quietly: 'Please, may I have your leave to retire?'
    'It is granted,' said the Queen.

    Isabella ran to her apartment. She did not notice little Catalina whom she passed.
    'Isabella, Isabella,' called Catalina, 'what is wrong?'
    Isabella took no notice but ran on; she had one concern -