But Barbara had already determined.

The assent was swift and positive, but neither the light of the more distant torches nor of the lantern close at hand was brilliant enough to show the baron how the girl’s face blanched at the message that the Emperor Charles did not command, but only humbly entreated her to do him a favour that evening.

She had with difficulty uttered a few words of thanks; but when the adroit baron, with flattering urgency, besought her to crown her kindness and remember the saying that whoever gives quickly gives doubly, she pressed her right hand on her throbbing heart, and rode to Frau Kastenmayr’s side to explain briefly what compelled her to leave them, and say to her and her brother a few words of farewell and gratitude.

Herr Peter replied with sincere kindness; his sister with equally well-meant chilling displeasure.  Then Barbara rode on with the two envoys, in advance of the procession, at the swiftest trot.  Her tongue, just now so voluble, seemed paralyzed.  The violent throbbing of her heart fairly stopped her breath.  A throng of contradictory thoughts and feelings filled her soul and mind.  She was conscious of one thing only.  A great, decisive event was imminent, and the most ardent wish her heart had ever cherished was approaching its fulfilment.

It is difficult to talk while riding rapidly; but Malfalconnet was master of the power of speech under any circumstances, and the courtier, with ready presence of mind, meant to avail himself of the opportunity to win the favour of the woman whose good will might become a precious possession.

But he was not to accomplish this, for, when he addressed the first question to Barbara, she curtly replied that she did not like to talk while her horse was trotting.

Wolf thought of the loud voice which had reached him a short time before from the midst of the Ratisbon party, but he said nothing, and the baron henceforward contented himself with occasionally uttering a few words.

The whole ride probably occupied only a quarter of an hour, but what a flood of thoughts and feelings swept in this short time through Barbara’s soul!

She had just been enraged with herself for her defiance and the reckless haste which perhaps had forever deprived her of the opportunity to show the Emperor Charles her skill as a singer.  The cruel anxiety which tortured her on this account had urged her at Prufening to the loud forwardness which hitherto she had always shunned.  She had undoubtedly noticed how deeply this had lowered her in Frau Kastenmayr’s esteem, and the discovery had been painful and wounded her vanity; but what did she care now for her, for her brother, for all Ratisbon?  She was riding toward the great man who longed to see her, and to whom—­she herself scarcely knew whence she gained the courage—­she felt that she belonged.