r friend and sincerely mourned his death, and entreated him to
leave her alone; but when her sons returned and joyously described the
magnificent spectacle on which they had feasted their eyes outside of the
palace, she drew them toward her with special tenderness, and tried to
make them understand that they would never again see the good grandfather
who had loved them all so dearly.

But the older boy, Conrad, only gazed at her wonderingly, and asked why
she was weeping; and the younger one did not understand her at all, and
went on talking about the big soldier who wanted to lift him on his
piebald horse. To the child death is only slumber, and life being awake
to new games and pleasures.

Barbara said this to her husband when he wished to check the merry
laughter of the little ones, and then went to her chamber.

There she strove to think of the dead man, and she succeeded, but with
the memory of the sturdy old hero constantly blended the image of the
feeble man who to-day was voluntarily surrendering all the gifts of
fortune which she--oh, how willingly! would have received for the son
whom he desired to withdraw from the world.

The next morning Hannibal Melas came to ask what had kept her from the
ceremony. He learned it in the entry from Frau Lamperi, and Barbara's
tearful eyes showed him what deep sorrow this loss had caused her. Her
whole manner expressed quiet melancholy. This great, pure grief had come
just at the right time, flowing, like oil upon the storm-lashed waves,
over hatred, resentment, and all the passionate emotions by which she had
previously been driven to the verge of despair.

She did not repulse the witness of her lost happiness, and listened
attentively while Hannibal told her about the memorable ceremony which he
had attended.

True, his description of the lofty hall in the Brabant palace where it
took place, the chapel adjoining it, and the magnificent decorations of
flowers and banners that adorned it, told nothing new to Barbara. She was
familiar with both, and had seen them garlanded, adorned with flags and
coats of arms, and even witnessed the erection of the stage in the hall
and the stretching of the canopy above it.

The Emperor had appeared upon the platform at the stroke of three,
leaning upon his crutch and the shoulder of William of Orange. His son
Philip and the Queen of Hungary followed, and all took their seats upon
the gilded thrones awaiting them. The blithe, pleasan