end herself, and they should never succeed in
accomplishing this shameful purpose. She would keep her child, though it
increased the Emperor's resentment to the highest pitch, and deprived her
of every expectation of his care.

Eagerly as Wolf praised Quijada's noble nature, she commanded him to
assure the Castilian, whose messenger he honestly confessed himself to
be, that she would die rather than yield to the Emperor's demands.

When the time at last came to part from Wolf also, and he pressed his
lips to her hand, she felt that she could rely upon him, no matter how
sad her future life might be. He added many another kind and friendly
word; then, in an outburst of painful emotion, cried: "If only you had
been contented with my faithful love, Wawerl, how very different, how
much better everything would have been, how happy I might be! and, if
loyal love possesses the power of bestowing happiness, you, too----"

Here Barbara pointed mournfully to her poor aching throat and, while he
earnestly protested that, deeply as he lamented the injury to her voice,
this cruel misfortune would by no means have lessened his love, her eyes
suddenly flashed, and there was a strange quiver around the corners of
her mouth as she thought: "Keep that opinion. But I would not exchange
for a long life, overflowing with the happiness which you, dear, good
fellow, could offer me, the brief May weeks that placed me among the few
who are permitted to taste the highest measure of happiness."

Yet she listened with sincere sympathy to what he had heard of
Villagarcia and Magdalena de Ulloa, Quijada's wife, and what he expected
to find there and in Valladolid.

It pleased her most to know that he would be permitted to return
sometimes to the Netherlands. When once there, he must seek her out
wherever her uncertain destiny had cast her.

When, in saying this, her hoarse voice failed and tears of pain and
sorrow filled her eyes, emotion overpowered him also and, after he had
again urged her to submit to the will of their imperial master, he tore
himself away with a last farewell.

The ardent, long-cherished passion which had brought the young knight
full of hope to Ratisbon had changed to compassion. With drooping head,
disappointed, and heavily burdened with anxiety for the future of the
woman who had exerted so powerful an influence upon his fate, he left the
home of his childhood; but Barbara saw him go with the sorrowful fear
that, in t