during that time Quijada was not needed by his royal
master.

He had previously had leisure only to provide for the wounded man,
cleanse himself from blood, change his dress, bid Queen Mary farewell,
and bandage the hurt afresh. He had done this with his own hands because
he distrusted the reticence of his extremely skilful but heedless French
valet.

When he returned to his lodgings, Master Adrian followed him, and
modestly, yet with all the warmth of affection which he felt for this
true friend of his master, entreated him to permit him to speak freely.
He had perceived, not only by the pallor of Don Luis's cheeks, but other
signs, that he was suffering, and in the name of his wife, who, when her
husband was summoned from her side, had urged him with the earnestness
of anxious love to watch over him, begged him not to force himself
beyond his strength to perform his service, if his sufferings
corresponded with his appearance.

Don Luis looked sharply into the faithful face, and what he found there
induced him to admit that he was concealing a wound. Adrian silently
beckoned to him, and led the way into his own room, where he entreated
Don Luis to show him the injury. When he saw it, his by no means mobile
features blanched.

He knew that Quijada had accompanied Barbara home that night. On this
errand, he was sure of it, Don Luis must have received this serious
wound at the same time as Wolf, or even obtained it from the young
knight himself. Besides, he felt certain that the object of the
Emperor's love was connected with both disasters. Yet not a word which
could have resembled a question escaped his beardless lips while he
examined, sewed, and bandaged the deep sword thrust with the skill and
care of a surgeon.

When he had finished his task, he thanked Don Luis for the confidence
reposed in him.

Quijada pressed his hand gratefully, and begged him to do his best that
no one, not even the Emperor, should learn anything about this vexatious
mischance. Then, not from curiosity, for grave motives, he desired to
know what relations existed between Sir Wolf Hartschwert and Barbara.

The answer was somewhat delayed, for Wolf had won the affection of the
influential valet, and what Master Adrian had learned concerning the
young knight's personal affairs from himself, his own wife in Brussels,
and the violinist Massi, he would have confided to no one on earth
except Quijada, and perhaps not even to him had he not