ew minutes.

Greatly perplexed, he swung himself from the saddle, flung his bridle to
a groom, and followed her under a mountain-ash tree which stood by the
roadside. Barbara had used the time of his dismounting to gaze at her
child again, and to impress his image upon her soul. She dared not call
to him, for she had sworn to keep the secret, and the boy, who so often
repulsed her eager advances, would perhaps have turned from her if she
had gone close to him and attempted to kiss him through the window.

This reserve was so hard for her that her eyes were full of tears when
Massi approached to ask what she desired. She did not give him time for
even a single question, but with frantic haste inquired who the boy in
the litter was, and where he intended to take him.

But her friend, usually so obliging, curtly and positively refused to
give her any information. Then forming a hasty resolve, Barbara besought
him if it were possible to take her with him to his home. Life in her
own house had become unendurable. If a nurse was wanted for this child,
no matter to whom it might belong, let him give her the place. She
would devote herself to the boy day and night, more faithfully than any
mother, and ask no wages for it, only she would and must go to Spain.

Massi had listened to her rapid words in warm; nay, he was thoroughly
startled. The fire that flashed from Barbara's blue eyes, the anguish
which her quivering features expressed, suggested the thought that she
had lost her reason, and with sympathizing kindness he entreated her to
think of his friend her husband, and her splendid boys at home. But when
she persisted that she must go to Spain, he remembered that a bond
of love had once united her to his friend Wolf Hartschwert, and in
bewilderment he asked if it was the knight who attracted her there.

"If you think so, yes," she exclaimed. "Only I must go to Spain, I must
go to Spain!"

Again Massi was seized with the conviction that he was dealing with a
madwoman, and as the procession started he only held out his hand to
her once more, earnestly entreated her to calm herself, sent his
remembrances to her husband and children, and then swung himself into
the saddle.

Barbara remained standing by the side of the road as if turned to stone,
gazing after the travellers until the dust which they raised concealed
them from her gaze. Then she shook her head and slowly returned to
Brussels.

Pyramus would come home at