a
young German chaplain to administer the sacrament to Sir Wolf
Hartschwert, to whose house he hurriedly directed him. Then going swiftly
to the third story, he waked Dr. Mathys, the Emperor's leech.

The portly physician rubbed his eyes angrily; but as soon as he learned
for whom he was wanted and how serious was the injury, he showed the most
praiseworthy haste and, with the attendant who carried his surgical
instruments and medicines, was standing beside the sufferer's couch
almost as soon as the wounded man.

The result of his examination was anything but gratifying.

He would gladly do all that his skill would permit for the knight, but in
so serious a fracture of the skull only the special mercy of Heaven could
preserve life.

Dr. Doll, the best physician in Ratisbon, assisted him with the
bandaging, and old Ursel had suddenly recovered her lost strength.

When the maid-servant asked timidly if she should not call Wawerl down
from upstairs, she shrugged her shoulders with a movement which the
one-eyed girl understood, and which signified anything but acceptance of
the proposal.

Yet Barbara would perhaps have rendered most efficacious assistance.

True, she was still sleeping the sound slumber of wearied youth. Directly
after her return from her imperial lover, she had gone to rest in the
little chamber behind the bow-windowed room. It looked out upon the
courtyard, and was protected from the noise of the street. When she heard
sounds in the house, she thought that old Ursel was ill and they were
summoning the doctor. For a moment she felt an impulse to rise and go
downstairs, but she did not like to leave her warm bed, and Wolf would
manage without her. She had always lacked patience to wait upon the sick,
and Ursel had grown so harsh and disagreeable since she joined the
Protestants. Finally, Barbara had brought home exquisite recollections of
her illustrious lover, which must not be clouded by the suffering of the
old woman, whom, besides, she could rarely please.

She did not learn what had happened until she went to mass, and then it
weighed heavily upon her heart that she had not given Wolf her
assistance, especially as she suspected, with strange certainty, that she
herself was connected with this terrible misfortune.

Now--ah, how gladly!--she would have helped Ursel with the nursing, but
she forbade her to enter the sick-room. The most absolute quiet must
reign there. No one was permitted to cr