jada's. The Emperor's, on the
contrary, he had not mentioned.

He must love Barbara with ardent passion, and she, too, still seemed
warmly attached to him, for to see him again she had bravely exposed
herself to serious danger.

Eye and ear witnesses had reported that, notwithstanding his Majesty's
positive orders to avoid her old home, she had entered the house and the
knight's apartments, knelt beside his couch, and even kissed his weak,
burning hand with tender devotion.

But though she still retained a portion of her former affection for Wolf
Hartschwert, she loved the Emperor Charles with passionate fervour. Even
the marquise did not venture to doubt this. Often as she had watched the
meetings of the lovers, she had marvelled at the youthful ardour of the
monarch, the joyous excitement with which Barbara awaited him, and her
sorrowful depression when he left her. During the first week the old
noblewoman thought that she had never met a happier pair. The almoner
deemed it unworthy of him to listen to a report of the caresses which
she scornfully mentioned.

The time even came when he no longer needed confirmation from others,
and forbade himself to doubt Barbara's fidelity to her religion; for at
the end of the first week in Prebrunn she had desired to ask a servant
of the Church what she must do to make herself worthy of such abundance
of the highest happiness, and to atone for the sin she was committing
through her love.

In doing so she had opened her heart to the confessor with childlike
frankness, and what De Soto heard on this occasion sincerely delighted
him and endeared to him this thoroughly sound, beautiful creature
overmastered by a first great passion. He believed her, and indignantly
rejected what the spies afterward brought to him.

Yet he did not close his ears to the marquise when, in her clever,
entertaining way, she told him what, against her will, she had overheard
in consequence of the careless construction of the little castle, built
only for a summer residence, or had seen during a walk in the garden
when the shutters, through forgetfulness, had not been closed.

How should he not have heard gladly that the monarch, at every interview
with Barbara, listened to her singing with special pleasure?

At first she chose grave, usually even religious songs, and among them
Charles's favourite was the "Quia amore langueo."

To listen to these deeply felt tones of yearning always seemed to
pos