he most powerful
influence.

This would have been vexatious to the statesman had not his mind been
wholly occupied in considering how this unexpected event could be made
most profitable to himself, and also to his master, whom he served with
loyal devotion.

Malfalconnet had received no confidence either from the Emperor or any
male member of the court, yet he knew all, for, though the Marquise
de Leria well deserved the reputation of secrecy, she did not keep her
tongue sufficiently in check while talking with her gay countryman. What
she overheard, he succeeded by his amiable wiles in learning, and this
time also he had not failed.

Soon after the Emperor had appeared again audience was given to several
ambassadors. Then Chamberlain de Praet announced Captain Blomberg.

The latter, clad in full armour, entered the apartment. Over the shining
coat of mail, which he himself had cleaned with the utmost care, he wore
a somewhat faded scarf, and his long battle sword hung at his left side.

He looked stately enough, and his grave, oldfashioned, but thoroughly
soldierly manners admirably suited the elderly warrior.

The Emperor Charles accosted the father of the woman he loved with the
same blunt friendliness that so easily won the hearts of the companions
in arms to whom he condescended.

Blomberg must tell him this thing and that, and the old man gazed into
his face with honest amazement and sincere delight when the monarch
supplied the names of places and persons which had escaped his own
feeble memory.

He accepted the praise of his daughter with a smile and the modest
remark: "She is certainly a dear, kind-hearted child; and as for her
voice, there were probably some to which people found less pleasure in
listening. But, your Majesty, that of the nightingale battering down
solid walls sounds still more beautiful to me."

The Emperor knew that the German cannoneers gave their guns the name of
nightingale, and was pleased with the comparison.

But while he was still talking gaily with the old warrior, who had
really displayed truly leonine courage on many an occasion, Count Buren
brought in a new despatch, remarking, as he did so, that unfortunately
the bearer, a young Spanish noble, had been thrown from his horse just
outside the city, and was lying helpless with a broken leg.

Sincere compassion was expressed, in which the Bishop of Arras joined,
meanwhile glancing through the somewhat lengthy document.