Here the friendly man’s patience gave out, and, drawing his little broad figure stiffly up, he said repellently:  “You are mistaken in me, my dear.  If you need a messenger, you must seek some one else.  You have taken care to make me sincerely regret having discharged this office for your sake.  Besides, your recovery will progress without my professional aid; and, moreover, I shall leave Ratisbon with my illustrious master in a few days.”

He turned his back upon her as he spoke.  When toward evening the Emperor asked him how Barbara had received his decision, he shrugged his shoulders and answered:  “As was to be expected.  She thinks herself ill-used, and will not give up the child.”

“She will have a different view in the convent,” replied the Emperor.  “Quijada shall talk with her to-morrow, and De Soto and the pious nuns here will show her where she belongs.  The child—­that matter is settled—­will be taken from her.”

The execution of the imperial will began on the very next morning.  First the confessor De Soto appeared, and with convincing eloquence showed Barbara how happily she could shape her shadowed life within the sacred quiet of the convent.  Besides, the helpless creature whose coming she was expecting with maternal love could rely upon the father’s recognition and aid only on condition that she yielded to his Majesty’s expressed will.

Barbara, though with no little difficulty, succeeded in maintaining her composure during these counsels and the declaration of the servant of the Holy Church.  Faithful to the determination formed during the night, she imposed silence upon herself, and when De Soto asked for a positive answer, she begged him to grant her time for consideration.

Soon after Don Luis Quijada was announced.  This time he did not appear in the dark Spanish court costume, but in the brilliant armour of the Lombard regiment whose command had been entrusted to him.

When he saw Barbara, for the first time after many weeks, he was startled.

Only yesterday she had seemed to Wolf Hartschwert peerlessly beautiful, but the few hours which had elapsed between the visit of the physician and the major-domo had sadly changed her.  Her large, bright eyes were reddened by weeping, and the slight lines about the corners of the mouth had deepened and lent her a severe expression.

A hundred considerations had doubtless crowded upon her during the night, yet she by no means repented having showed the leech what she thought of the betrayer in purple and the demand which he made upon her.  De Soto’s attempt at persuasion had only increased her defiance.  Instead of reflecting and thinking of her own welfare and of the future of the beloved being whose coming she dreaded, yet who seemed to her the most precious gift of Heaven, she strengthened herself more and more in the belief that it was due to her own dignity to resist the Emperor’s cruel encroachments upon her liberty.  She knew that she owed Dr. Mathys a debt of gratitude, but she thought herself freed from that duty since he had made himself the blind tool of his master.