w the man who cared nothing for her that, against
her will, he could not hear even a single note from her lips.

They were to meet the other members of the party at St. Oswald's Church
on the Danube, so they were obliged to pass the Golden Cross.

This suited Barbara and, with triumphant selfconfidence, in which
mingled a slight shade of defiance, she looked up to the Emperor's
windows. She did not see him, it is true, but she made him a mute speech
which ran: "When, foolish sovereign, who did not even think it worth
while to grant me a single look, you hear the singing again to-night,
and miss the voice which, I know full well, penetrated your heart, you
will learn its value, and long for it as ardently as I desired your
summons."

Here her cheeks glowed so hotly that Frau Kastenmayr noticed it, and
with maternal solicitude asked, from her heavy, steady bay horse:

"Is the gray too gay for you, my darling?"

CHAPTER XIII.

Shortly after sunset Appenzelder received the order to have the boy
choir sing before the Emperor.

During the noon hour, which the monarch had spent alone, thoughts so
sad, bordering upon melancholy, had visited him, although for several
hours he had been free from pain, that he relinquished his resentful
intention of showing his undutiful sister how little he cared for her
surprise and how slight was his desire to enjoy music.

In fact, he, too, regarded it as medicine, and hoped especially for
a favourable effect from the exquisite soprano voice in the motet "Tu
pulchra es."

He still had some things to look over with Granvelle, but the orchestra
and the boy choir must be ready by ten o'clock.

Would it not have been foolish to bear this intolerable, alarming mood
until the midnight meal? It must be dispelled, for he himself perceived
how groundless it was. The pain had passed away, the despatches
contained no bad news, and Dr. Mathys had permitted him to go out the
next day. When Adrian already had his hand on the door knob, he called
after him, "And Appenzelder must see that the exquisite new voice--he
knows--is heard."

Soon after, when Granvelle had just left him, the steward, Malfalconnet,
entered, and, in spite of the late hour--the Nuremberg clock on the
writing table had struck nine some time before--asked an audience for
Sir Wolf Hartschwert, one of her Highness the regent's household,
to whom she committed the most noiseless and the most noisy affairs,
namely, the sec