Proudly, triumphantly she entered the saloon, and returned the profound salutation of the two gentlemen with a slight bow.

“You bring me a message from his majesty?” said she, hastily.

“The king commissioned us to inquire after your health, signora,” said Algarotti.

Barbarina smiled significantly.  “He sent you to watch me closely,” thought she; “he would ascertain if I am ready to pardon, ready to return to him.  I will meet them frankly, honestly, and make their duty light.—­Say to his majesty that I have passed the night in sighs and tears, that my heart is full of repentance.  I grieve for my conduct.”

The gentlemen exchanged a meaning glance; they already knew what they came to learn.  Barbarina had had a contest with the king, and he had separated from her in scorn.  Therefore was the proud Barbarina so humble, so repentant.

Barbarina looked at them expectantly; she was convinced they would now ask, in the name of the king, to be allowed to conduct her to the castle.  But they said nothing to that effect.

“Repentance must be a very poisonous worm,” said General Rothenberg, looking steadily upon the face of Barbarina; “it has changed the blooming rose of yesterday into a fair, white blossom.”

“That is perhaps fortunate,” said Algarotti.  “It is well known that the white rose has fewer thorns than the red, and from this time onward, signora, there will be less danger of mortal wounds when approaching you.”

Barbarina trembled, and her eyes flashed angrily.  “Do you mean to intimate that my strength and power are broken, and that I can never recover my realm?  Do you mean that the Barbarina, whom the king so shamefully deserted, so cruelly humiliated, is a frail butterfly?  That the purple hue of beauty has been brushed from my wings? that I can no longer charm and ravish the beholder because a rough hand has touched me?”

“I mean to say, signora, that it will be a happiness to the king, if the sad experience of the last few days should make you milder and gentler of mood,” said Algarotti.

Rothenberg and himself had gone to Barbarina to find out, if possible, the whole truth.  They wished to deceive her—­to lead her to believe that the king had fully confided in them.

“The king was suffering severely yesterday from the wounds which the sharp thorns of the red rose had inflicted,” said Rothenberg.

“And did he not cruelly revenge himself?” cried Barbarina.  “He left me for long hours kneeling at his door, wringing my hands, and pleading for pity and pardon, and he showed no mercy.  But that is past, forgotten, forgiven.  My wounds have bled and they have healed, and now health and happiness will return to my poor martyred heart.  Say to my king that I am humble.  I pray for happiness, not as my right, but as a royal gift which, kneeling and with uplifted hands, I will receive, oh, how gratefully!  But no, no, you shall not tell this to the king—­I will confess all myself to his majesty.  Come, come, the king awaits us—­let us hasten to him!”