rested on the ground beside the hospital.

"His Majesty's property," she said eagerly; "I know it well."

Here she hesitated and turned pale, for she had just noticed what
Gombert now called to her attention.

Don Luis Quijada, with the haughty precision of the Castilian grandee,
was passing through the humble folk around him and advancing directly
toward her.

All who separated him from the carriage submissively made way for the
commander of the Lombard regiment; but Barbara looked toward the right
and the left, and longed to spring from the vehicle and hide herself
amid the throng.

But it was too late for that.

She could do nothing except wait to learn what he desired, and yet she
knew perfectly well that Don Luis was not coming to the musician, but
to her, and that he was bringing some startling, nay, probably some
terrible news.

She had not met him since she had poured forth the indignation of her
heart. Now he was standing close beside the carriage, but his grave face
looked less stern than it did at that time.

After he had bent his head slightly to her and held out his hand to
Gombert with friendly condescension, he thanked him for the kindness
with which he had made room for his travelling companion, and then,
with quiet courtesy, informed Barbara that he had come on behalf of
his Majesty, who feared that she might not find suitable lodgings in
overcrowded Landshut. The sedan chair stood ready over there by the
hospital.

The longing to escape this fresh outrage from the mighty despot seized
upon Barbara more fiercely than ever, but flight in this crowd was
impossible, and as she met Quijada's grave glance she forced herself to
keep silence. She could not endure to make the Netherland maestro, who
was kindly disposed toward her, and whom she honoured, a witness of her
humiliation. So she was compelled to reserve what she wished to say to
the Spaniard until later, and therefore only bade her friend farewell
and, scarcely able to control her voice, expressed her regret that she
could not take him to the Lorberers, since his Majesty was making other
arrangements for her.

Another clasp of the Netherlander's hand, a questioning glance into
the Castilian's calm face, and she was forced to consider herself the
Emperor Charles's prisoner.

True, her captor studiously showed her every attention; he helped her
out of the carriage with the utmost care, and then led her through the
moving throng of peopl