ut."

CHAPTER VIII.

When Barbara rose from her couch the next morning it was no longer early
in the day. She had slept soundly and dreamlessly for several hours,
then she had been kept awake by the same thoughts which had pressed upon
her so constantly of late.

She would defy Charles's cruel demand. The infuriating compulsion
inflicted upon her could only strengthen her resolve. If she was dragged
to a convent by force, she would refuse, at the ceremony of profession,
to become a nun.

She thought of a pilgrimage to induce Heaven to restore the lost melody
of her voice. But meanwhile the longing to see the Emperor Charles's
face once more again and again overpowered her. On the other hand, the
desire to speak to him and upbraid him to his face for the wrong he had
done her was soon silenced; it could only spoil his memory of her if he
should hear the discordant tones which inflicted pain on her own ear.

Another train of thoughts had also kept her awake. How was her father
faring? Had he learned what she feared to confess to him? What had
befallen him, and what had the recruiting officer to tell of his fate?

She was to know soon enough, for she had scarcely risen from breakfast
when a ducal servant announced Sir Pyramus.

Barbara with anxious heart awaited his entrance, and as she stood there,
her cheeks slightly flushed and her large, questioning eyes fixed upon
the door, she seemed to Frau Traut, in spite of her short hair and the
loss of the rounded oval of her face, so marvellously beautiful that she
perfectly understood how she had succeeded in kindling so fierce a flame
in the Emperor's heart, difficult as it was to fire.

Frau Traut did not venture to determine what made the blood mount into
Pyramus's cheeks when Barbara at his entrance held out her slender white
hand, for she had left the room immediately after his arrival. But she
did not need to remain absent long; the interview ended much sooner than
she expected.

This young officer was certainly a man of splendid physique, with
handsome, manly features, yet she thought she perceived in his manner an
air of constraint which repelled her and, in fact, this gigantic soldier
was conscious that if, for a single moment, he relinquished the control
he imposed upon himself his foolish heart would play him a trick.

Barbara had seemed more beautiful than ever as she greeted him with
almost humble friendliness, instead of her former defiance. The