aloof from his person. Finally, he had spoken of her singing
with rapturous delight. At night the "Quia amore langueo" from the Mary
motet had echoed softly from his lips, and when he perceived that Don
Luis had heard him, he murmured that this peerless cry of longing,
reminded him not of the earthly but the heavenly love.

At these words Barbara hid her face in her hands, and Wolf paused until
she had controlled the sobs which shook her breast.

Then he went on, she listening devoutly with wet eyes and clasped hands.

The Archbishop of Toledo was summoned, and predicted that Charles would
die on the day after to-morrow, St. Matthew's day. He was born
on St. Matthias's day, and he would depart from life on St.
Matthew's,--[September 12, 1558]--Matthias's brother and fellow-disciple.

So it was, and Barbara remembered that his son and hers had also seen the
light of the world on St. Matthias's day.

Charles's death-agony was severe. When Dr. Mathys at last said softly to
those who were present, "Jam moritur,"--[Now he is dying]--the loud cry
"Jesus!" escaped his lips, and he sank back upon the pillows lifeless.

Here Wolf was again obliged to give his weeping friend time to calm
herself.

What he now had to relate--both knew it--was well suited to transform the
tears which Barbara was shedding in memory of the beloved dead to tears
of joy.

While she was wiping her eyes, Wolf described the great anxiety which,
after Charles's death, overpowered the Quijadas in Villagarcia.

The codicil had existed, and Don Luis was familiar with its contents. But
how would King Philip take it?

Dona Magdalena knew not what to do with herself in her anxiety.

The immediate future must decide Geronimo's fate, so she went on a
pilgrimage with her darling to the Madonna of Guadelupe to pray for the
repose of the Emperor's soul, and also to beseech the gracious Virgin
mercifully to remember him, Geronimo.

Until that time the boy had believed Don Luis and his wife to be his
parents, and had loved Dona Magdalena like the most affectionate son.

He had not even the slightest suspicion that he was a child of the
Emperor, and was perfectly satisfied with the lot of being the son of a
grandee and the child of so good, tender, and beautiful a mother.

This exciting expectation on the part of the Quijadas lasted nearly a
whole year, for it was that length of time before Don Philip finally left
the Netherlands and reached Valladolid.