motioned to both prelates to follow him, and, paying no further heed to
Barbara--nay, without even vouchsafing her a farewell wave of the hand--
conducted them to the rear of the tent.

Again the girl's heart ached in her abandonment. Duke Maurice, too, had
vanished. When he saw the Emperor address her he had left the tent.

Dancing had begun, and he was now accepting the invitation of the
magistrate Ambrosius Ammann to inaugurate the young people's pleasure as
leader of the Polish dance.

For a time Barbara stood as if spellbound to the spot where her lover had
so suddenly turned away from her.

She was again experiencing what Adrian had predicted--politics made
Charles forget everything else, even love. How would it be when war
actually came?

Now, after the Emperor had showed her that he still deemed her worthy of
regard, she felt for the first time thoroughly neglected, and with
difficulty restrained her tears. She would have liked to follow Charles,
and at every peril whisper softly, so that he alone could hear, yet with
all the sharpness of her resentment, that it was unchivalrous to leave
her standing here like an outcast, and that she demanded to learn why she
had forfeited his love.

The wild throbbing of her heart impeded her breathing, and, in the
indignation of her soul, she longed to escape fresh humiliation and to
leave the festival.