d attracted her attention. They were
engaged in an animated discussion, which from their glances and gestures
evidently concerned Barbara.

Bernhard Trainer, the tall son of an old and wealthy family, who loved
Martina Hiltner, and had been incensed by Barbara's treatment of her,
seemed to gain his point, and when the city pipers began to play again,
all of them--probably a dozen in number--passed by her arm-in-arm in
couples, with their eyes studiously fixed upon the opposite side of the
dancing floor.

Barbara could entertain no doubt that this insulting act was intended to
wound her. The "little castle," as it was called in Prebrunn, owned
by Bernhard Trainer's family, was near the bishop's house which she
occupied. Therefore the Trainers had probably heard more than others
about the visits she received. Or did the gentlemen consider that she
deserved punishment for not treating Martina more kindly?

Whatever might have caused the unseemly act, in Barbara's eyes it was a
base trick, which filled her with furious rage against the instigators.
Had she shared the Emperor's power, it would have been a delight to her
in this hour to repay the malignant insult in the same or far heavier
coin. But, on Malfalconnet's account, she must submit in silence to what
had been inflicted upon her.

So, in a muffled tone, she requested the baron to take her back to the
tent, but while fulfilling her wish he wondered at the long strides of
the capricious young lady at his side, and the mortifying inattention
with which she received his questions.

Meanwhile the Emperor had returned to the throne, and Maurice of Saxony
was again standing beside him, while the chamberlain Andreas Wolff was
humbly, inviting the monarch to make the Ratisbon young people happy by
visiting the scene of the dancing.

After a dance of inquiry at the duke, Charles assented to this request.
But they must pardon him if he remained a shorter time than he himself
would desire, as the physician was urging his return home.

While the chamberlain was retiring, Charles saw Barbara leaning on
Malfalconnet's arm, beckoned to them, and asked her whether she had
yielded to her love for dancing.

A brief "No, your Majesty," assured him of the contrary, and led him to
make the remark that whoever exercised a noble art so admirably as she
would be wise to refrain from one which could afford nobody any higher
pleasure than the peasant and his sweetheart, if they only