spectre--it is the Ratisbon singer."

"Your Majesty knows," replied Quijada, "what befell her after the birth
of the child, and that she is now living here in Brussels; but I was
strictly forbidden to mention her name in your Majesty's presence."

"That command closed my lips also," said the valet.

"But what the hearing rejected forced itself upon the sight," remarked
Charles, gazing fixedly into vacancy. "Wherever I appear m public I see
this woman, always this woman! It is not only the basilisk's eye that
has constraining power. I can not help perceiving her, yet I have as
little desire to meet her gaze as to encounter vanity, worldly pleasure,
folly, sin."

"Then," cried Quijada angrily, "it will be advisable to transfer her
husband, who is in your Majesty's service, from here to Andalusia or to
the New World."

"As if she would accompany him!" exclaimed the monarch with a scornful
laugh. "No, my friend. This woman did not marry for her own pleasure,
but to cause me sorrow or indignation. She succeeded, too, to a certain
extent; but I do not war with women, least of all with one who is so
unhappy. If we send her husband--who, moreover, is a useful fellow--
across the ocean, she will stay here in Brussels, and we shall fare like
the maid-servants who killed the cocks, and were then waked by the
mistress of the house still earlier than before. Besides, one who
earnestly seeks his true salvation will not remove from his path such a
living memento, such a walking monitor of past sins and follies; and,
finally, this woman is not wholly wrong in deeming herself an unusual