with great fear of the old man whose head had grown gray in an honourable
life. Now the hour was approaching when she would be obliged to confess
to him what she still strove to deem a peerless favour of Fate, for which
future generations would envy her. Perhaps he who looked up to the
Emperor Charles with such enthusiastic devotion would agree with her;
perhaps what she must disclose to him would spoil the remainder of his
life. The image of the aged sufferer, lying in pain and sorrow far from
her old his home, in a stranger's house, constantly forced itself upon
her, and she often dwelt upon it, imagining it with ingenious self-
torture.

Love for another had estranged her from him who possessed the first claim
to every feeling of tenderness and gratitude in her heart. The thought
that she could do nothing for him and give him no token of her love
pierced deep into her soul. Every impulse of her being urged her to
learn further details of him and his condition. As Pyramus Kogel was
staying in Landshut, she wrote a note entreating him, if possible, to
come to Ratisbon to tell her about her father, or, if this could not be,
to inform her by letter how he fared.

There was no lack of messengers going to Landshut, and the answer was not
delayed. During these war times, Pyramus answered, he was not his own
master even for a moment; therefore he must deny himself a visit to her,
and he also lacked time for a detailed account by letter. If, however,
she could resolve to do him the honour of a visit, he would promise her a
more cordial reception than he had experienced on her side. For the
rest, her father was being carefully nursed, and his life was no longer
in danger.

At first Barbara took this letter for an ungenerous attempt of the