When he was alone, Charles drew a long breath, and, resting his head on his hand, his thoughts returned to the past.  Half-vanished pictures unconsciously blended with the present, which had so unexpectedly assumed a bright colouring.

“Barbara,” he murmured, almost inaudibly.  Then he continued in soliloquy:  “The beautiful Jungfrau Groen in Brussels was also called Barbara, and she was the first.  Another of this name, and perhaps the last.  How can this ardent yearning take root in my seared soul and grow so vigorously?”

Meanwhile he fancied that the “Quia amore langueo” again greeted him yearningly in the sweet melody of her voice.

“How powerfully the ear affects the heart!” he continued, pursuing the same train of thought.  “Slender, well-rounded, golden-haired.  If she should really resemble the Brussels Barbara!  Malfalconnet is a connoisseur.  Perhaps, after these gloomy days and years, a semblance of sunlight may return.  It is long enough since politics and war have granted me even the slightest refreshment of the heart.  And yet, methinks Heaven might feel under obligation to do something for the man who has made it his life-task to hold its enemies in check.”

He rose quickly as he spoke, and, while moving forward to ring the little bell whose peal summoned the valet, not the slightest trace of the gouty pain in his foot was perceptible.

Adrian saw with joyful surprise that his master approached without a crutch the door through which he had come, and the faithful servant expressed his astonishment in terms as eager as his position permitted.

On reaching his sleeping-room, the Emperor interrupted him.  He wished to be dressed for dinner.

Master Adrian would not believe his own ears.  He was to bring one of the new reception robes, and yet to-day not even the Queen of Hungary was to share his Majesty’s repast.  One of the costliest new costumes!  What had come over his lord, who for months, when no distinguished guests were present, had worn only the most comfortable and often very shabby clothes at table, saving the better new garments like an economical housekeeper?

But Charles was not satisfied even with these, for, when Adrian hung over the back of a chair a handsome black court dress, slashed with satin, his master signed to him to take it away, and asked for one of the newest works of art of his Brussels tailor, a violet velvet garment, with slashes of golden yellow sill:  on the breast, in the puffed sleeves and short plush breeches.  With this were silk stockings tightly incasing the feet and limbs, as well as a ruff and cuffs of Mechlin lace.

Shaking his head, the valet took these articles of dress from the chest; but before he put them on his master, the latter sat down to have his hair and beard carefully arranged.

For weeks he had performed this slight task himself, though with very ill success, for his hair and beard had seemed to his visitors rough and unkempt.  This time, on the contrary, mirror in hand, he directed the work of the skilful servant with many an objection, showing as much vanity as in his youth.