Saxony and Philip of
Hesse, who had seriously angered him.

In ten days the Reichstag would be opened in Ratisbon and, in spite of
his special invitation, these princes, who had refused to recognise the
Council of Trent, had excused their absence upon trivial pretexts--the
Hessian, who on other occasions, attended by his numberless servants
in green livery, had made three times as great a display as he, the
Emperor, on the pretext that the journey to Ratisbon would be too
expensive.

Maurice now had his imperial word and he the duke's; but since that
evening Charles thought he had noticed something which lessened his
confidence in the Saxon. It was not only jealousy which showed him
this young, clever, brave, and extremely ambitious prince in a more
unfavourable light than before. He knew men, and thought that he had
perceived in him signs of the most utter selfishness. As Maurice, to
gain two bishoprics, and perhaps later the Elector's hat, abandoned his
coreligionists, his cousin and his father-in-law, he would also desert
him if his own advantage prompted him to do so. True, such an ally was
useful for many things, but he could not be trusted implicitly a single
hour.

Maurice certainly had not remained ignorant of Barbara's relation to
him, the Emperor, and yet, in the sovereign's very presence, he had
courted her favour with such defiant boldness that Charles struck the
writing-table with his fist as he thought of his manner to the singer.
Would Maurice impose greater moderation upon himself in political
affairs?

Yet perhaps he judged the Saxon too severely, and made him suffer for
another's sin. The man's conduct is governed by the woman's, and he had
seen how Barbara, as it were, gave Maurice the right to sue thus boldly
for her favour.

Was it conceivable that she loved him, after having wounded him, as if
intentionally, by acts which she knew were detestable to him? If her
heart was still his, how could she have so inconsiderately favoured in
his presence another, younger man?

Angrily excited by the question, he rose from the writing-table. But ere
he went to rest he thought of his hapless mother, whose birthday at this
hour, beyond midnight, was now over, and, kneeling before the priedieu
in his bedroom, he fervently commended her to the mercy of Heaven. This
woman had loved her husband so fondly that it was long ere she could
resolve to part from his corpse, yet she was the heiress of the
mightiest