of her
most precious gifts, and filled her with rankling hatred against the
first person who had closed his heart to the victorious magic of her
voice.

When she refused Appenzelder her aid in case the Emperor Charles desired
to hear the choir that evening, and promised Frau Kastenmayr to accompany
her to Prufening, she had been like a rebellious child filled with the
desire to show the man who cared nothing for her that, against her will,
he could not hear even a single note from her lips.

They were to meet the other members of the party at St. Oswald's Church
on the Danube, so they were obliged to pass the Golden Cross.

This suited Barbara and, with triumphant selfconfidence, in which mingled
a slight shade of defiance, she looked up to the Emperor's windows. She
did not see him, it is true, but she made him a mute speech which ran:
"When, foolish sovereign, who did not even think it worth while to grant
me a single look, you hear the singing again to-night, and miss the voice
which, I know full well, penetrated your heart, you will learn its value,
and long for it as ardently as I desired your summons."

Here her cheeks glowed so hotly that Frau Kastenmayr noticed it, and with
maternal solicitude asked, from her heavy, steady bay horse:

"Is the gray too gay for you, my darling?"

CHAPTER XIII.

Shortly after sunset Appenzelder received the order to have the boy choir
sing before the Emperor.

During the noon hour, which the monarch had spent alone, thoughts so sad,
bordering upon melancholy, had visited him, although for several hours he
had been free from pain, that he relinquished his resentful intention of
showing his undutiful sister how little he cared for her surprise and how
slight was his desire to enjoy music.

In fact, he, too, regarded it as medicine, and hoped especially for a
favourable effect from the exquisite soprano voice in the motet "Tu
pulchra es."

He still had some things to look over with Granvelle, but the orchestra
and the boy choir must be ready by ten o'clock.

Would it not have been foolish to bear this intolerable, alarming mood
until the midnight meal? It must be dispelled, for he himself perceived
how groundless it was. The pain had passed away, the despatches contained
no bad news, and Dr. Mathys had permitted him to go out the next day.
When Adrian already had his hand on the door knob, he called after him,
"And Appenzelder must see that the exquisite new voice-