urse.

Barbara first introduced herself to John as his real mother. She had
loved and honoured his great father with all the strength of her soul,
and she might boast of having been clear to him also. By the Emperor
Charles's command he, her beloved child, had been taken from her. She had
submitted with a bleeding heart and, to place him in the path of fortune,
had inflicted the deepest wounds upon her own soul. Now her
self-sacrifice was richly rewarded, and it would make her happier than
himself if she should learn that his own merit had led him to the height
of fame which she prayed that he might reach.

Then she congratulated him, and begged him not to forget her entirely
amid his grandeur. She was only a plain woman, but she, too, belonged to
an ancient knightly race, and therefore he need not be ashamed of his
mother's blood.

Lastly, at Wolf's desire, she requested her son to thank the lady who so
lovingly filled her place to him.

Her friend was to give this letter himself to Don John of Austria, and he
voluntarily promised to lead the high-minded boy to the belief that his
own mother had also been worthy of an Emperor's love.

Lastly, Wolf promised to inform her of any important event in her son's
life or his own. During the last hour of their meeting he admitted that
he was one of the few who felt satisfied with their lot. True, he could
not say that he had no wishes; but up to this hour he had desired nothing
more constantly and longingly than to hear her sing once more, as in that
never-to-be-forgotten May in the Ratisbon home. He might now hope, sooner
or later, to have this wish, too, fulfilled. These were kind, cheering
words, and with a grateful ebullition of feeling she admitted that, after
his glad tidings, she, too, again felt capable of believing in a happy
future.

So the friends from childhood bade each other farewell.

CHAPTER XVIII.

During the following days Barbara's life path was illumined by the
reflection of the happiness bestowed by the wonderful change in the fate
of her child of sorrow, who now promised to become a giver of joy to her.

Doubtless during the ensuing years many dark shadows fell upon her
existence and her heart; but when everything around and within was
gloomy, she only needed to think of the son whom she had given the
Emperor, and the constantly increasing brilliancy of his career, to raise
her head with fresh confidence. Yet the cloud obscuring her happine