supposed the delicate, troubled face, short locks of hair, and
unnaturally large eyes to be those of another girl who only resembled
the blooming, healthful Barbara of former days?

She also glanced toward the richly decorated portal of St. Martin's
Church, standing diagonally opposite to the sedan chair, and tried to
look up to the steeple, which was higher than almost any other in the
world.

Even in Ratisbon there was not a handsomer, wider street than this
Altstadt, with its stately gable-roofed houses, and certainly not in
Munich, where her uncle had once taken her, and the Bavarian dukes now
resided.

But where, in Heaven's name, would she be borne?

The sedan chair was now swaying past the place where the "short cut" for
pedestrians led up to the Trausnitzburg, the proud citadel of the dukes
of Bavarian Landshut. She leaned forward again to look up at it as it
towered far above her head on the opposite side of the way; the powerful
ruler whose captive she was probably lodged there.

But now!

What did this mean?

The sedan chair was set down, and it was just at the place where the road
at her left, leading to the citadel, climbed the height where rose the
proud Trausnitz fortress.