envy of
the other ladies in the tent, he said eagerly: "Not sung amiss for your
Ratisbon, I should think. But how this superb composition was sung six
years ago at Catnbray, under the direction of Courtois himself!--that,
yes, that is one of the things never to be forgotten. Thirty-four
singers, and what power, what precision, and, moreover, the great charm
of novelty! I have certainly been permitted to hear many things----"

Here he paused; the Cardinal of Trent was approaching with the Bishop of
Arras.

The younger Granvelle, with his father, had also been present at the
performance of this motet of homage at Cambray, and respectfully
confirmed his Majesty's remark, speaking with special warmth of the
fervour and delicacy with which Jean Courtois had conducted the choir.

The cardinal had no wish to detract from the merits of the Netherland
maestro, but he called the Emperor's attention to young Orlando di Lasso,
the leader of the orchestra in the Lateran at Rome, who, in his opinion,
was destined as a composer and conductor to cast into the shade all the
musicians of his time. He was born in Hennegau. The goddess of Music
continued to honour the Netherlands with her special favour.

During this conversation Barbara had stepped modestly aside. Charles
glanced toward her several times to address her again, but when the
Bishop of Arras whispered that, before the commencement of the festival,
the cardinal had received despatches from the Council and from Rome, he
motioned to both prelates to follow him, and, paying no further heed to
Barbara--nay, without even vouchsafing her a farewell wave of the
hand--conducted them to the rear of the tent.

Again the girl's heart ached in her abandonment. Duke Maurice, too, had
vanished. When he saw the Emperor address her he had left the tent.

Dancing had begun, and he was now accepting the invitation of the
magistrate Ambrosius Ammann to inaugurate the young people's pleasure as
leader of the Polish dance.

For a time Barbara stood as if spellbound to the spot where her lover had
so suddenly turned away from her.

She was again experiencing what Adrian had predicted--politics made
Charles forget everything else, even love. How would it be when war
actually came?

Now, after the Emperor had showed her that he still deemed her worthy of
regard, she felt for the first time thoroughly neglected, and with
difficulty restrained her tears. She would have liked to follow Charle