Of course, Dr. Mathys told Barbara nothing about the Emperor’s lack of interest, for any strong mental excitement might still be injurious to her.  Besides, he was a reserved man, who said little more to Barbara than was necessary.  Toward the Emperor Charles he imposed a certain restraint upon himself; but the royal adept in reading human nature knew that in him he possessed one of the most loyal servants, and gave him his entire confidence.  For his sake alone this wealthy scholar devoted himself to the laborious profession which so often kept him from library and laboratory.  Although his smooth, brown hair had turned gray long ago, he had never married, for he had decided in the Emperor’s favour—­ this Charles knew also—­whenever the choice presented itself to follow his royal patient during his journeys and expeditions or to find rest and comfort in a home of his own.

The calm, kindly manner of this far-famed physician very soon gained a great influence over the vivacious Barbara.  Since she had felt sure of his good will, she had willingly obeyed him.  Though he was often obliged to shake his finger at her and tell her how much she herself could contribute toward regaining freedom of motion and the use of her voice, she really did nothing which he could seriously censure, and thus her recovery progressed in the most favourable manner until the wedding day was close at hand.

She had already been permitted to receive visits from old acquaintances and, without saying much herself, listen to the news they brought.  The little Maltese, Hannibal, had also appeared again, and the lively boy told her many things which Gombert and Appenzelder had not mentioned.

The morning of the day before the princesses’ marriage he informed her, among other things, that the bridal procession would march the following morning.  It was to start from the cathedral square and go to Prebrunn, where it would turn back and disband in front of the Town Hall.  All the distinguished noblemen and ladies who had come to Ratisbon to attend the wedding and the Reichstag would show themselves to the populace on this occasion, and it was even said that the Emperor intended to lead the train with his royal brother.  It must pass by the garden; but the road could scarcely be seen from the little castle—­the lindens, beeches, and elms were too tall and their foliage was too thick to permit it.

This news destroyed Barbara’s composure.  Though she had slept well during the past few nights, on this one slumber deserted her.  She could not help thinking constantly of the possibility that the Emperor might be present in the procession, and to see her lover again was the goal of her longing.

Even in the morning, while the physician permitted her to remain in the open air because the clay was hot and still, the bridal procession was continually in her thoughts.  Yet she did not utter a word in allusion to it.