affairs to be settled the next day.
Master Adrian, the valet, had just brought it, but this time Charles
glanced over the important expressions of opinion given by the young
minister swiftly and without deeper examination. The saying that the
Emperor could not dispense with him, but he might do without the Emperor,
had originally applied to his father, whose position he filled to the
monarch's satisfaction in every respect.

The confessor had reminded the sovereign of the anniversary which had
already dawned, and which he was accustomed to celebrate in his own way.

Very early in the morning, after a few hours spent in suffering, he heard
mass, and then remained for hours in the sable-draped room where he
communed with himself alone.

The regent knew that on this memorable day he would not be seen even by
her. The success of the surprise afforded a guarantee that music would
supply her place to him on the morrow also, and ere she left him she
requested a short leave of absence to enjoy the hunting for which she
longed, and permission to take his major-domo Quijada with her.

An almost unintelligible murmur from the sufferer told her that he had
granted the petition. It was done reluctantly, but the Queen departed at
dawn with Don Luis and a small train of attendants, while the Emperor
retired into the black-draped chamber.

The gout would really have prohibited him from kneeling before the altar,
whence the agonized face of the crucified Redeemer, carved in ivory by a
great Florentine master, gazed at him, but he took this torture upon
himself.

Even in the period of health and happiness when, at the age of
twenty-three, besides the great boon of health, besides fame, power, and
woman's love, he had enjoyed in rich abundance all the gifts which Heaven
bestows on mortals, his devout nature had led him to retreat into a
gloomy, solitary apartment.

The feeling that constantly drew him thither again was akin to the dread
which the ancients had of the envy of the gods, and, moreover, the
admonition of his pious teacher who afterward became Pope Adrian, that
the less man spares himself the more confidently he can rely upon the
forbearance of God.

And, in truth, this mighty sovereign, racked by almost unendurable pain,
dealt cruelly enough with himself when he compelled his aching knee to
bend until consciousness threatened to fail under the excess of agony.

Nowhere did he find more complete calmness than here, in