had gained control over the convulsive sobbing which shook her bosom, he
told her his intention of leaving her and not returning until he could
expect a less hostile reception. Meanwhile she might consider whether
the Emperor's decision was not worthy of different treatment. He would
show his good will to her anew by concealing from his Majesty what he had
just heard, and what she, at no distant day, would repent as unjust and
unworthy of her.

Then Barbara angrily burst forth afresh: "Never, never, never will that
happen! Neither years nor decades would efface the wrong inflicted upon
me to-day. But oh, how I hate him who makes this shameful demand--yes,
though you devour me with your eyes--hate him, hate him! I do so even
more ardently than I loved him! And you? Why should you conceal it?
From kindness to me? Perhaps so! Yet no, no, no! Speak freely! Yes,
you must, must tell him so to his face! Do it in my name, abused, ill-
treated as I am, and tell him----"

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."