able. So he restrained himself, and when she had
gained control over the convulsive sobbing which shook her bosom, he told
her his intention of leaving her and not returning until he could expect
a less hostile reception. Meanwhile she might consider whether the
Emperor's decision was not worthy of different treatment. He would show
his good will to her anew by concealing from his Majesty what he had just
heard, and what she, at no distant day, would repent as unjust and
unworthy of her.

Then Barbara angrily burst forth afresh: "Never, never, never will that
happen! Neither years nor decades would efface the wrong inflicted upon
me to-day. But oh, how I hate him who makes this shameful demand--yes,
though you devour me with your eyes--hate him, hate him! I do so even
more ardently than I loved him! And you? Why should you conceal it? From
kindness to me? Perhaps so! Yet no, no, no! Speak freely! Yes, you must,
must tell him so to his face! Do it in my name, abused, ill-treated as I
am, and tell him----"

Here the friendly man's patience gave out, and, drawing his little broad
figure stiffly up, he said repellently: "You are mistaken in me, my dear.
If you need a messenger, you must seek some one else. You have taken care
to make me sincerely regret having discharged this office for your sake.
Besides, your recovery will progress without my professional aid; and,
moreover, I shall leave Ratisbon with my illustrious master in a few
days."

He turned his back upon her as he spoke. When toward evening the Emperor
asked him how Barbara had received his decision, he shrugged his
shoulders and answered: "As was to be expected. She thinks herself
ill-used, and will not give up the child."

"She will have a different view in the convent," replied the Emperor.
"Quijada shall talk with her to-morrow, and De Soto and the pious nuns
here will show her where she belongs. The child--that matter is
settled--will be taken from her."

The execution of the imperial will began on the very next morning. First
the confessor De Soto appeared, and with convincing eloquence showed
Barbara how happily she could shape her shadowed life within the sacred
quiet of the convent. Besides, the helpless creature whose coming she was
expecting with maternal love could rely upon the father's recognition and
aid only on condition that she yielded to his Majesty's expressed will.

Barbara, though with no little difficulty, succeeded in maintaining he