ed
the door behind her. Directly after, however, she opened it again, and
with a pleasant, "No offence, father," wished the old gentleman a no
less pleasant goodnight.

Then she went to her room, but in old Ursel's chamber, at the same hour
as on the preceding night, a similar conversation took place.

The one-eyed maid spoke of the rats which had forced their way into the
house, and the sick woman repeated impatiently, "The rats!" and, with
prudent reserve, silently kept her thoughts to herself.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Queen of Hungary had returned home the evening before, and on the
following morning summoned Barbara to the Golden Cross to sing with the
boy choir.

When the major-domo, Quijada, obedient to her command, entered the room
at eleven o'clock, she called to him: "Miracles, Luis, mighty miracles
in these godless times! I have just come from his Majesty, and in what
did I find him occupied? Turning over music with Maestro Gombert--of
course, for a female voice. Besides, he looked as if he had just
defeated the Turks and Frenchmen at once. As for the gout, he'll be
dancing the 'hoppedei' with the peasants presently."

"Day before yesterday he surprised us by wearing satin shoes," remarked
Quijada. "May I congratulate you on the really magical effect of your
Majesty's prescription?"

"Continue to think so, if it suits you," cried the Queen gaily. "Only a
few powerful drops from elsewhere have probably fallen into the potion.
But how stupidly artless you can look when you feign ignorance, Luis! In
this case, however, you need not let your breathing be oppressed by
the mask. I bow to your masculine secrecy--but why did my worldly-wise
brother mingle a petticoat in this delicate business if he wishes to
keep it hidden?"

"The Marquise Leria!" cried the major-domo, shrugging his shoulders
angrily, as if against an inevitable misfortune.

"My senior lady in waiting," said the regent in assent to this
conjecture. "Make haste to bestow a stately candle, because it is she,
and no one else. You might spare yourself that smile; I know her better
than you do. If she had as many teeth as she possesses vices, she might
be happy; yet one admirable quality mingles with the evil traits in her
character."

"And that?" asked Quijada, as if he deemed a satisfactory answer
impossible.

"Secrecy," replied the Queen firmly. "She keeps what she has overheard
to herself as closely as a miser guards his gold."

"In