d not regain complete self-control until the syndic asked his
errand.

The man in the brown doublet was Brother Cassian, the body servant of
the Emperor's confessor. He now unclasped his hands to grasp the cap
under his arm, which he twirled awkwardly in his fingers while saying,
in a rapid, expressionless tone, as though he were repeating a lesson,
that he had come to summon Wolf Hartschwert to the Queen of Hungary,
with whom he must set out for Brussels early the next morning.

Barbara then remarked in a subdued tone that she had come here for the
same purpose, and also for another-to shake hands with the playmate of
her childhood, because she probably would not see him again before his
departure.

Wolf listened to this statement in surprise, and then told the messenger
that he would obey her Majesty's command.

"Obey the command," Cassian repeated, according to his servant custom.
Then he was about to retire, but Frau Sabina had filled a goblet with
wine for him, and Martina, according too an old custom of the family,
offered it to the messenger.

But, much as Cassian liked the juice of the grape, he waved back the
kindly meant gift of the mistress of the house with a hoarse "No, no!"
and shaking his head, turned on his heel, and without a word of thanks
or farewell left the room.

"The heretic's wine," observed Dr. Hiltner, shrugging his shoulders
regretfully, and then asked Wolf, "Do you know the queer fellow?"

"The body servant of the almoner, Pedro de Soto," was the reply. The
bang of the closed outer door was heard at the same moment, for Cassian
had rushed into the open air as fast as his feet would carry him. After
leaving part of the street behind him, he stopped, and with a loud
"B-r-r-r!" shook himself like a poodle that has just come out of the
water.

Into what an abominable heretic house Master Adrian had sent him!

To despatch a good Christian to such an unclean hole!

No images of the Virgin and the saints, no crucifix nor anything else
that elevates a human soul in the whole dwelling, but the portrait of
the anti-Christ, the arch-heretic Luther, in the best place in the room!
However he turned his eyes away, the fat heretic face had forced him to
look at it. Meanwhile he had felt as if the devil himself was already
stretching out his arm from the ample sleeve to seize him by the collar.

"B-r-r-r!" he repeated, and hurried off to Saint Leonhard's chapel in
the Golden Cross, where he spri