While speaking, he looked his friend sharply in the face, and when he saw, by his silent bow, that his decision called forth no deeper emotion in him, he carelessly added that, nevertheless, he intended to hear her sing that day, and perhaps many times more.

Perceiving a significant smile upon the lips of the faithful follower, and recognising the peril contained in the last resolve, he shook his finger at Quijada, saying:  “As if even the inmost recesses of your soul were concealed from me!  You are asking yourself, Why does Charles deny me leave to visit Villagarcia, and thereby cruelly prevent my being happy with my dear, beautiful young wife, after so long a separation, if he considers himself strong enough to turn his back, without further ceremony, upon the woman he loves, after seeing and hearing her again?”

“Your Majesty has read correctly,” replied Don Luis, “yet my wish for a brief stay with Doha Magdalena de Ulloa is very different from your Majesty’s desire.”

“How?” demanded Charles in a sharp tone of inquiry.  “Is my strength of will, in your opinion, so far inferior to yours?”

“Your Majesty can scarcely deem me capable of so presumptuous an error,” replied Quijada.  “But your Majesty is Charles V, who has no superior save our Lord in heaven.  I, on the contrary, am only a Castilian nobleman, and as such prize my honour as my highest treasure; but, above all other things, even above the lady of my heart, stands the King.”

“I might know that,” cried the Emperor, holding out his hand to his friend.  “Yet I refused you the leave of absence, you faithful fellow.  The world calls this selfishness.  But since it still needs me, it ought in justice to excuse me, for never have I needed you so much as during these decisive weeks, whether war is declared—­and it will come to that—­or not.  Think how many other things are also impending!  Besides, my foot aches, and my heart, this poor heart, bears a wound which a friend’s careful hand will soothe.  So you understand, Luis, that the much-tormented Charles can not do without you just now.”

Quijada, with sincere emotion, bent over the monarch’s hand and kissed it tenderly, but the Emperor, for the first time, hastily stroked his bearded cheek, and said in an agitated tone, “We know each other.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” cried the Spaniard.  “In the first place, I will not again annoy my master with the request for a leave of absence.  Dona Magdalena must try how she can accommodate herself to widowhood while she has a living husband, if the Holy Virgin will only permit me to offer your Majesty what you expect from me.”

“I will answer for that,” the Emperor was saying, when Adrian interrupted him.

The messenger had returned from Prebrunn with the news that the singer had taken cold the day before, and could not leave the house.

Charles angrily exclaimed that he knew what such illness meant, and his under lip protruded so far that it was easy to perceive how deeply this fresh proof of Barbara’s defiance and vanity incensed him.