might not be injured.

He had commenced the retreat that day.

The constraint which it was necessary to impose upon themselves must be
equally painful to them both, yet this could not be altered.

Had it affected him alone, in defiance of his sense of rank and the
tyranny of court etiquette, he would have led Barbara, attired like a
true queen, with his own hand to the festival under the lindens, but the
gratification of this heartfelt wish would have entailed too many evil
consequences.

Toying with her, who so quickly understood and so gratefully accepted the
gifts of the intellect which he offered, was so sweet, but in these days
it must not be permitted to impair mental repose, keen thought. What he
had to discuss and settle with Maurice of Saxony and Cardinal Madrucci
was of too momentous importance to the destiny of the world, to the
Church, to his fame as a sovereign, to his own greatness and that of his
race.

He would have liked best to send Barbara away from Ratisbon, as he had
despatched her father three weeks before, and not recall her until these
decisive days were over; but this was prohibited by his ardent desire for
her presence, her clever questions and appreciative listening, and, above
all, her singing, which he valued perhaps even more than her beauty.

Had he confided to Barbara the important reasons which compelled him to
impose restrictions for a short time upon the demands of his heart, she,
who esteemed his grandeur little less than his love, would have
cheerfully submitted to what was necessary and right; but truthfulness
and frankness were far more characteristic of her nature than of that of
the politician who was accustomed to the tricks and evasions of the time
of Machiavelli. He never lacked credible reasons when he desired to place
an intention in a favourable light, and where he wished to keep Barbara
away from him, during the next few days, such were certainly to be found
in each individual instance. Suppose the woman he loved did not accept
them? So much the worse for her; he was the Emperor.

As for Barbara, with the subtle power of presentiment of a loving heart
she felt that his passion was waning, and tortured her mobile intellect
to discover the right cause.

If the luckless star was connected with it, why had he not blamed her
openly?

No, no!

Adrian had already predicted it; his constancy could not be relied upon,
and if war was in prospect he forgot everything that