y inch of his person
his superior power and grandeur, and especially not to be inferior to
them in chivalrous bearing.

To a certain extent he succeeded in doing so; but his aunt, Queen Mary,
seemed unwilling to admit it, for just when he showed his arrogant
dignity most plainly a smile by no means expressive of reverence hovered
around the mouth of the frank royal huntress.

Barbara had soon wearied of gazing at the magnificent garments and horses
of these grandees. As Charles did not appear, the only person in the
endless procession who attracted her attention was Massi, whom she soon
discovered on his insignificant little horse; but he did not heed her
eager signals, for he was talking earnestly to the occupant of the large
litter borne by two mules that moved beside him.

Barbara tried to force her way to him, and when she succeeded her cheeks
suddenly burned hotly, and a swift dread checked her progress; for from
the great window of the litter a wonderfully beautiful little head,
covered with fair curls, looked forth, and two little arms were extended
toward the violinist.

How gleefully this child's eyes sparkled! how his whole little figure
seemed instinct with joy and life while gazing at the horseman at the
side of the street who was having a hard struggle with his refractory
stallion!

No one knew this boy better than she, for it was her own son, the
imperial child she had given to the Emperor. At the same time she thought
of her other two boys, and her face again wore a compassionate
expression. Not they, but this little prince from fairyland was her
first-born, her dearest, her true child.

But where were they taking her John? What had Massi to do with him? Why
should the boy be in Philip's train?

There was only one explanation. Her child was being conveyed to Spain.

Had the father heard that she had discovered his abode, and did he wish
to remove it from the mother whom he hated?

Was it being taken there merely that it might grow up a Castilian?

Did Charles desire to rear it there to the grandeur and splendour for
whose sake she had yielded him?

Yet whatever was in view for John, he would be beyond her reach as soon
as the ship to which he was being conveyed weighed anchor.

But she would not, could not do without seeing him! The light of day
would be darkened for her if she could no longer hope to gaze at least
now and then into his blue eyes and to hear the sound of his clear,
childish