e saw that Charles was suffering and felt
troubled by some important matter, and soon learned what he desired to
know. But if Charles expected the Dominican to greet his decision with
grateful joy, he was mistaken, for De Soto had long since relinquished
the suspicion which had prejudiced him against Barbara and, on the
contrary, with the Bishop of Arras, had reached the certainty that the
love which united the monarch to the singer would benefit him.

Both knew the danger which threatened the sovereign from his tendency to
melancholy, and now that he saw his efforts to urge the Emperor to a war
with the Smalcalds crowned with success, he wished to keep alive in him
the joyousness which Barbara, and she alone, had aroused and maintained.

So he used the convincing eloquence characteristic of him to shake the
monarch's resolve, and lead him back to the woman he loved.

The Church made no objection to this bond of free love formed by a
sovereign whom grave political considerations withheld from a second
marriage. If his Majesty's affection diminished the success of his work,
the separation from so dear a being, who afforded him so much pleasure,
would do this to a far greater degree. That Barbara had allowed the bold
Saxon too much liberty on the dancing ground he did not deny, but took
advantage of the opportunity to point out the unscrupulousness which
characterized Maurice, like all heretics. As for Barbara, the warm blood
and fresh love of pleasure of youth, qualities which to many were her
special charm, had led her into the error of the luckless dance. But the
Emperor, who until then had listened to De Soto' here interrupted him to
confide the unfortunate suspicion which had been aroused in him the day
before.

The mention of this matter, however, was very opportune to the almoner,
for he could easily turn it to the advantage of the suspected girl. The
day before yesterday she had confessed to him the fate of the valuable
star, and begged him, if her imprudent deed of charity should be
discovered, to relieve her of the painful task of explaining to Charles
how she had been induced to sell a memento so dear to her. Thereupon the
confessor himself had ascertained from the marquise and the goldsmith
Jamnitzer that Barbara had told him the whole truth.

So in his eyes, and probably in those of a higher power, this apparently
ignoble act would redound no little to the credit of the girl's heart.

Charles listened to