The following morning Barbara went to the great statesman's business
offices. Hannibal was waiting for her.

It was on Saint Raphael's day, which had attracted his fellow-clerks
to a festival in the country. Granvelle had given the others leave of
absence, but wished to keep within call the industrious Maltese, on whose
zeal he could always rely.

Without stopping his diligent work at the writing-desk, the secretary
begged Barbara to wait a short time. He would soon finish the draught
of the new edict for which his Eminence and the Councillor Viglius were
waiting in the adjoining chamber. The pictures on the walls of the
fourth room were worth looking at.

Barbara followed his advice, but she paused in the third room, for
through the partly open door she heard Granvelle's familiar voice.

Curious to see what changes time had wrought, she peered through the by
no means narrow crack and overlooked the minister's spacious office,
where he was now entirely alone with the Councillor Viglius.

The Bishop of Arras had scarcely altered since their last meeting, only
his appearance had become somewhat more stately, and his clever, handsome
face was fuller.

The Councillor Viglius, whom Barbara looked directly in the face, did not
exactly profit by the contrast with Granvelle, for the small figure of
the Frieslander barely reached to the chin of the distinguished native of
tipper Burgundy, but his head presented a singular and remarkably vivid