Three long days passed within the noble hall with the _artesonado_ ceiling, where Luna was confined in the Casa de las Argollas (the iron links), still entire and standing in the Plaza Viega of Valladolid--three days of terrible suspense, yet with the absolute assurance that Don Juan would relent. He had been guilty of no crime; he deserved no punishment from the master he had so faithfully served. His arrogant nature was maddened under the delay, but he suppressed the expression of his indignation until he should stand face to face with the king.
The long hours passed, no message came. Then, yielding to the alarm of the friends who had gathered round him, he wrote that historic letter, each word of which has come down to us.
“Forty-five years of my life, King Don Juan, have been passed in your service; nor have I ever heard a word of complaint from your lips. The favours you have showered on me were greater than my deserts, and certainly more than my desire. To my prosperity one thing was wanting--_caution_. In the days when you loved me I should have retired from court and enjoyed in an honourable retreat the well-earned proofs of your munificence.
“But I was either too generous or presumptuous, and I continued to lead the state as long as I deemed my sovereign needed me. In this, O King of Castile, I was myself deceived.”
So completely had Don Juan’s heart at this time been hardened against him, that, resolute for once, instead of a reply, the trial of the High Constable was decided on. The crimes of which he was accused were many. First, the assassination of the Conde de Vivars; then vague charges of embezzlement of the royal revenues, of having possessed himself by magic of the will of the king and of his late queen; of being a tyrant, without specifying any act of tyranny, and of usurping the royal authority, without stating on what occasion.
So irregular and illegal were the conditions of the tribunal, composed of accusers and judges, that it went far toward proving not only his innocence, but a preconceived conclusion against him. He was condemned to death.
Still he could not be brought to believe in his danger. When the sentence was read to him, he bowed his grand head, covered with the glossy curls, and was silent. A defiant smile parted his lips, as, roused from his usual apathy, his eyes travelled slowly round from one to the other of his judges.