Barbara awake from the dream of longing which had held her captive. She
started in alarm, raised her little plumed cap, and drew a long breath.
The ancient, well-known houses along the sides of the streets brought her
back to reality and its demands.

She could not appear before the Emperor just as she was, in her riding
habit, with disordered hair. Besides, her head was burning after the
dancing and the wine which she had drunk. She must calm herself ere
entering the presence of the royal connoisseur whose approval could
render her so happy, whose dissatisfaction or indifference would make her
wretched.

Quickly forming her resolution, she turned to Malfalconnet and explained
that she could not appear before his Majesty until after she had allowed
herself a short period of rest; but the baron, who probably feared that
some feminine caprice would spoil, even at the twelfth hour, the
successful issue of his mission, thought that he must deny this wish,
though in the most courteous manner and with the assurance that he would
procure her an opportunity to collect her thoughts quietly in the Golden
Cross.

Barbara unexpectedly wheeled her horse, struck him a blow with the whip,
and called to the astonished gentlemen, "In front of the Golden Cross in
a quarter of an hour. You, Wolf, can wait for me at the Grieb."

The last words were already dying away as she clashed swiftly up the
street and across the Haidplatz. Bright sparks flashed from the paving
stones struck by her horse's hoofs.

"Confounded witch!" cried Malfalconnet. "And how the unruly girl wheels