“If you think so, yes,” she exclaimed.  “Only I must go to Spain, I must go to Spain!”

Again Massi was seized with the conviction that he was dealing with a madwoman, and as the procession started he only held out his hand to her once more, earnestly entreated her to calm herself, sent his remembrances to her husband and children, and then swung himself into the saddle.

Barbara remained standing by the side of the road as if turned to stone, gazing after the travellers until the dust which they raised concealed them from her gaze.  Then she shook her head and slowly returned to Brussels.

Pyramus would come home at noon.  Lamperi and the maid might provide the meal and attend to the rest of the household affairs.  It was far past twelve, and it would still be a long time before she went home, for she must, yes, must go up to the palace park and to the Dubois house to inquire where her soul must seek her child in future.

Her feet could scarcely support her when she entered the dwelling.

Startled at her appearance, Frau Traut compelled the exhausted woman to sit down.  How dishevelled, nay, wild, Barbara, who was usually so well dressed, looked!  But she, too, that day did not present her usual dainty appearance, and her eyes and face were reddened by weeping.  Barbara instantly noticed this, and it confirmed her conjecture.  This woman, too, was bewailing the child which the cruel despot had torn from her.

“He is on the way to Spain!” she cried to the other.  “There is nothing to conceal here.”

Frau Traut started, and vehemently forbade Barbara to say even one word more about the boy if she did not wish her to show her the door and close it against her forever.

But this was too much for the haughty mother of the Emperor’s son.  The terrible agitation of her soul forced an utterance, and in wild rebellion she swore to the terrified woman that she would burden herself with the sin of perjury and break the silence to which she had bound herself if she did not confess to her where Massi was taking her boy.  She would neither seek him nor strive to get possession of him, but if she could not imagine where and with what people he was living, she would die of longing.  She would have allowed herself to be abused and trodden under foot in silence, but she would not suffer herself to be deprived of the last remnant of her maternal rights.

Here Adrian himself entered the room; but Barbara was by no means calmed by his appearance, and with a fresh outburst of wrath shrieked to his face that he might choose whether he would confide to her, the mother, where his master was taking the child or see her rush from here to the market place and call out to the people what she had promised, for the boy’s sake, to hold secret.

The valet saw that she would keep her word and, to prevent greater mischief, he informed her that the violinist Massi was commissioned to take her son to Spain to rear him in his wife’s native place until his Majesty should alter his plans concerning him.