falling into a cistern, and she yielded herself to such passionate grief
for his loss that she thought she could never conquer it; but it was soon
soothed by the belief that, for the sake of this devout child, whose
training for a religious life had already commenced, Heaven had resigned
its claims upon John, and that the boy was dwelling in the immediate
presence of the Queen of Heaven.

Thus, ere she was aware of it, her burning anguish changed into a
cheerful remembrance. Earlier still--more than two years after Wolf's
departure--tidings closely associated with the sorrow inflicted through
her John had saddened her. The ship which was to bear the loyal
companion of her youth to Spain was wrecked just before the end of the
voyage, and Wolf went down with it. Barbara learned the news only by
accident, and his death first made her realize with full distinctness
how dear he had been to her.

The letter which she had addressed to her son was lost with the man in
whom Fate had wrested from her the last friend who would have been able
and willing to show her John clearly and kindly a correct picture of his
mother's real character.

For two years she had hoped that Wolf would complete her letter in his
own person, and tell her son how her voice and her beauty had won his
father's heart. Quijada had known it; but if he spoke of her to his wife
and foster-son, it was scarcely in her favour--he cared little for music
and singing.

So the loss of this letter seemed to her, with reason, a severe
misfortune. What she now wrote to John could hardly exert much influence
upon him. Yet she did write, this time with the aid of Hannibal. But