lf preferred to stay with Barbara, that he might plead his cause in
person. There was something so quiet and diffident in her manner. If she
would not listen to him to-day, she never would. In saying farewell, the
captain remarked that he would not meddle in the affair of the Council.
Wawerl alone must decide that.

"When I return home," he concluded, "you will have come to an agreement,
and, whatever the determination may be, I shall be satisfied. Perhaps
some bright idea may come to me, too, over the wine. I'll go to the Black
Bear, where I always meet fellow-soldiers."

Then he raised his hand with a gay farewell salute, and left the room.

CHAPTER XVII.

As soon as the captain's limping steps died away on the stairs, Wolf
summoned all his courage and moved nearer to Barbara.

His heart throbbed anxiously as he told himself that the next few minutes
would decide his future destiny.

As he saw her before him, fairer than ever, with downcast eyes, silent
and timid, without a trace of the triumphant self-assurance which she had
gained during his absence, he firmly believed that he had made the right
choice, and that her consent would render him the most enviable of happy
mortals. If she refused him her hand--he felt this no less plainly--his
life would be forever robbed of light and joy.

True, he was no longer as blithe and full of hope as when he entered her
plain lodgings a short time before.

The doubt of the worthy man, behind whom the house door had just closed,
had awakened his doubts also. Yet what he now had it in his power to
offer, since his conversation with the syndic, was by no means trivial.
He must hold fast to it, and as he raised his eyes more freely to her his
courage increased, for she was still gazing at the floor in silent
submission, as if ready to commit her fate into his hands; nay, in the
brief seconds during which his eyes rested upon her, he perceived an
expression which seemed wholly alien to her features, and bestowed upon
this usually alert, self-assured, vivacious creature an air of weary
helplessness.

While he was generally obliged to maintain an attitude of defence toward
her, she now seemed to need friendly consolation. So, obeying a hasty
impulse, he warmly extended both hands, and in a gentle, sympathizing
tone exclaimed, "Wawerl, my dear girl, what troubles you?"

Then her glance met his, and her blue eyes flashed upon him with an
expression of defiant resistance;