Golden Cross announced that Duke Maurice of Saxony had arrived, and in
the afternoon his Majesty wished to see her and hear her sing.

This news cheered her wonderfully; but while Fran Lerch was dressing her
she, too, missed the star, and it seemed to Barbara that with it she had
lost a portion of her charm.

In going out, the marquise met her in the corridor, but Barbara passed
without returning her greeting.

When she arrived, the company had assembled in the chapel. The Duke of
Saxony sat between the Emperor and Granvelle.

What a handsome, knightly man this Maurice was! A prince from head to
foot, young, and yet, while talking with the Emperor and Granvelle, grave
and self-possessed as if he felt himself their peer.

And what fire glowed in his bright glance whenever it rested upon her!

In the chase and over the wine-cup this brave soldier and subtle
statesman was said scarcely to have his equal. Many tales of his
successes with fair women had been told her. He pleased her, too, in
spite of the bold, free manner in which he gazed at her, and which she
would not have tolerated in any one else.

After she had finished the last song, the duke expressed his appreciation
in gay, flattering words, at the same time complimenting her beauty.

There had been something remarkably winning in his compliments; but when
she pleased her imperial lover, the acknowledgment was very different.