it mean?--a small lamp must still be
burning in her room, for the window was illuminated, though but dimly.
Perhaps she had kept the light because she felt timid in her lonely
chamber. Now Wolf crossed obliquely toward his house.

Just at that moment he saw the tall figure of a man.

What was he doing there at this hour? Was it a thief or a burglar? There
was no lack of evil-disposed folk in this time of want.

Wolf still wore his court costume, and the short dress sword which
belonged to it hung in its sheath.

His heart beat quicker as he loosed the blade and advanced toward the
suspicious night-bird.

Just then he saw the other calmly turn the big key and take it out of
the door.

That could be no thief! No, certainly not!

It was a gentleman of tall stature, whose aristocratic figure and
Spanish court costume were partially covered by a long cloak.

There was no doubt! Wolf could not be mistaken, for, while the former
was putting the key in his pocket, the mantle had slipped from one
shoulder.

"Malfalconnet," muttered Wolf, grasping the hilt of his short sword more
firmly.

But at the same moment the moonlight showed him the Spaniard's face.
A chill ran through his frame, followed by a feverish heat, for the
nocturnal intruder into his house was not the baron, but Quijada, the
noble Don Luis, his patron, who had just been lauding to the skies the
virtues, the beauty, the goodness of the peerless Dona Magdalena de
Ulloa, his glorious wife. He had intended to send Wolf, the friend
and housemate of his victim, to Spain to become the instructor of his
deceived wife.

He saw through the game, and it seemed as if he could not help laughing
aloud in delight at his own penetration, in rage and despair.

How clearly, and yet how coarsely and brutally, it had all been planned!

The infamous scoundrel, who possessed so much influence over the
Emperor, had first sent old Blomberg away; now he, Wolf, was to follow,
that no one might stand between the game and the pursuer.

Barbara's lover must be Quijada. For the Spaniard's sake she had given
him up, and perhaps even played the part of adviser in this abominable
business. It must be so, for who else could know what she was to him?

Yet no! He himself had aided the guilty passion of this couple, for how
warmly he had sung Barbara's praises to Don Luis! And then in how many a
conversation with Barbara had Quijada's name been mentioned, and he had
always spoken