mperi promised her in Brussels!

Her means would enable her to go there with the maid and live in a quiet
way. If her father forgave her and would join her in the city, she would
rejoice. But he was bound to Ratisbon by so many ties, and had so many
new tales to relate in its taprooms, that he would certainly return to
it. So she must leave him; it was growing too hot for her here.

She found old Ursel cheerful, and was less harshly received than at
her last visit. True, Barbara came when she was in a particularly happy
mood, because a letter from Wolf stated that he already felt perfectly
at home in Quijada's castle at Villagarcia, and that Dona Magdalena
de Ulloa was a lady of rare beauty and kindness of heart. Her musical
talent was considerable, and she devoted every leisure hour to playing
on stringed instruments and singing. True, there were not too many, for
the childless woman had made herself the mother of the poor and sick
upon her estates, and had even established a little school where he
assisted her as singing-master.

So Barbara was at least relieved from self-reproach for having brought
misfortune upon this faithful friend. This somewhat soothed her sorely
burdened heart, and yet in her old, more than plain lodgings, with their
small, bare rooms, she often felt as though the walls were falling upon
her. Besides, what she saw from the open window in Red Cock Street was
disagreeable and annoying.

When evening came she went to rest early, but troubled dreams disturbed
her sleep.

The dawn which waked her seemed like a deliverance, and directly after
mass she hurried out of the gate and into the open country.

On her return she found a letter from her father.

Pyramus Kogel was its bearer, and he had left the message that he would
return the next day. This time her father had written with his own hand.
The letters were irregular and crooked enough, but they were large, and
there were not too many of them. He now knew what people were saying
about her. It had pierced the very depths of his old heart and darkened
his life. But he could not curse her, because she was his only child,
and also because he told himself how much easier her execrable vanity
had made the Emperor Charles's game. Nor would he give her up as lost,
and his travelling companion. Pyramus, who was like a son to him, was
ready to aid him, for his love was so true and steadfast that he still
wished to make her his wife, and offered thro