"The body servant of the almoner, Pedro de Soto," was the reply.
The bang of the closed outer door was heard at the same moment, for
Cassian had rushed into the open air as fast as his feet would carry him.
After leaving part of the street behind him, he stopped, and with a loud
"B-r-r-r!" shook himself like a poodle that has just come out of the
water.

Into what an abominable heretic house Master Adrian had sent him!

To despatch a good Christian to such an unclean hole!

No images of the Virgin and the saints, no crucifix nor anything else
that elevates a human soul in the whole dwelling, but the portrait of the
anti-Christ, the arch-heretic Luther, in the best place in the room!
However lie turned his eyes away, the fat heretic face had forced him to
look at it. Meanwhile he had felt as if the devil himself was already
stretching out his arm from the ample sleeve to seize him by the collar.

"B-r-r-r!" he repeated, and hurried off to Saint Leonhard's chapel in the
Golden Cross, where he sprinkled himself eagerly with holy water, and
then sought Master Adrian. But the valet was with the Emperor, and so
he went to his master and told him where he had unexpectedly wandered.

The latter lent a willing ear and shook his sagacious head indignantly
when he learned that, besides Sir Wolf Hartschwert, Cassian had also met
"the singer" at the house of the syndic, the soul of the evangelical
movement in Ratisbon.

Meanwhile Barbara was taking leave of the friend of her youth at the
Hiltner house.