hoarse
tone of her voice, once so musical, caused him so much pain that he
was on the verge of losing his power to keep his resolve to conceal
the feelings which, in spite of the insults she had heaped upon him, he
still cherished for her. While he allowed himself to look into her face,
he realized for the first time how difficult a task he had undertaken,
and therefore tried to assume an expression of indifference as he
began the conversation with the remark that the ride to the citadel was
detaining him from his duties longer than he could answer for in such
a stress of military business and, moreover, under the eyes of his
Majesty. Therefore it would only be possible to talk a very short time.

He had hurled forth this statement rather than spoken it; but Barbara,
smiling mournfully, replied that she could easily understand his
reluctance to lose so much time merely on her account.

"For your sake, my dear lady," he replied with an acerbity which sounded
sufficiently genuine, "it might scarcely have seemed feasible to go so
far from the camp; but for the brave old comrade who was intrusted to my
care I would have made even more difficult things possible--and you are
his daughter."

The girl nodded silently to show that she understood the meaning of his
words, and then asked how the journey had passed and what was the cause
of her father's illness.

Everything had gone as well as possible, he replied, until they reached
Spain; but there the captain was tortured by homesickness. Nothing had
pleased him except the piety of the people. The fiery wine did not suit
him, the fare seemed unbearable, and the inability to talk with any one
except himself had irritated him to actual outbursts of rage. On the
neat Netherland ship which bore him homeward matters were better; nay,
while running into the harbour of Antwerp he had jested almost in his
old reckless manner. But when trying to descend the rope-ladder from the
high ship into the skiff in which sailors had rowed from the land, he
made a misstep with his stiff leg and fell into the boat.

A low cry of terror here escaped the lips of the deeply agitated
daughter, and Pyramus joined in her expressions of grief, declaring that
a chill still ran down his back whenever he thought of that fall. The
captain had been saved as if by a miracle. Yet the consequences were by
no means light, for when he, Pyramus, left him, he was barely able to
totter from one chair to another. A