rced deep into her soul. Every impulse of her being urged her to learn
further details of him and his condition. As Pyramus Kogel was staying in
Landshut, she wrote a note entreating him, if possible, to come to
Ratisbon to tell her about her father, or, if this could not be, to
inform her by letter how he fared.

There was no lack of messengers going to Landshut, and the answer was not
delayed. During these war times, Pyramus answered, he was not his own
master even for a moment; therefore he must deny himself a visit to her,
and he also lacked time for a detailed account by letter. If, however,
she could resolve to do him the honour of a visit, he would promise her a
more cordial reception than he had experienced on her side. For the rest,
her father was being carefully nursed, and his life was no longer in
danger.

At first Barbara took this letter for an ungenerous attempt of the
insulted man to repay the humiliation which he had received from her; but
the news from the throngs of troops pouring into the city made the
officer's request appear in a milder light, and the longing to ascertain
her father's condition daily increased.

At the end of the first week in August her strength would have sufficed
for the short drive to Landshut. True, she was as hoarse as when she gave
the physician a disinclination to return, but she had regained her
physical vigour, and had taken walks, without special fatigue, sometimes
with Wolf, sometimes with Gombert. The latter, as well as Appenzelder,
still frequently called upon her, and tried to diminish her grief over
the injury to her voice by telling her of hundreds of similar cases which
had resulted favourably.

The musicians were to return to Brussels the next day. Appenzelder would
not leave his boy choir, but Gombert had accepted an invitation from the
Duke of Bavaria, at whose court in Munich the best music was eagerly
fostered. His road would lead him through Landshut, and how more than
gladly Barbara would have accompanied him there!

She must now bid farewell to Appenzelder and Massi, and it was evident
that the parting was hard for them also. The eyes of the former even grew
dim with tears as he pressed a farewell kiss upon Barbara's brow. The
little Maltese, Hannibal Melas, would have preferred to stay with
her--nay, he did not cease entreating her to keep him, though only as a
page; but how could he have been useful to her?

Finally, she was obliged to bid Wolf, to