young nobleman who was here as a recruiting officer," replied Barbara
curtly.

She had not heard until the last moment whom her father had selected, and
had only seen Pyramus Kogel again while the captain's groom was buckling
his knapsack upon the saddle. He had ridden to the house, and while she
gazed past him, as though an invisible cap concealed him from her eyes,
he asked whether she had no wish concerning her father at heart.

"That some one else was to accompany him," came her sharp reply.

Then, before the captain put his foot into the stirrup, she threw her
arms around the old man's neck, kissed him tenderly, and uttered loving
wishes for him to take with him on his way.

Her father, deeply moved, at last swung himself into the saddle,
commending her to the protection of the gracious Virgin. It was not
wholly easy for him to part with her, but the prospect of riding out into
the world with a full purse, highly honoured by his imperial master,
gratified the old adventure-loving heart so much that he could feel no
genuine sympathy. Too honest to feign an emotion which he did not
experience, he behaved accordingly; and, besides, he was sure of leaving
his child in the best care as in her earlier years, when, glad to leave
the dull city, business, and his arrogant, never-satisfied wife behind,
he had gone with a light heart to war.

While pressing the horse's flanks between his legs and forcing the
spirited animal, which went round and round with him in a circle, to
obedience, he waved his new travelling hat; but Barbara, meanwhile, was
thinking that he could only leave her with his mind thus free from care
because she was deceiving him, and, as her eyes rested on her father's
wounded limb projecting stiffly into the air, bitter grief overwhelmed
her.

How often the old wounds caused him pain! Other little infirmities, too,
tortured him. Who would bind them up on the journey? who would give him
the medicine which afforded relief?

Then pity affected her more deeply than ever before, and it was with
difficulty that she forced back the rising tears. Her father might
perhaps have noticed them, for one groom carried a torch, and the
one-eyed maid's lantern was shining directly into her face.

But while she was struggling not to weep aloud, emotion and anxiety for
the old man who, through her fault, would be exposed to so much danger,
extorted the cry: "Take care of him, Herr Pyramus! I will be grateful to
you."