The monarch’s end came more quickly than was expected.  He had been unable to attend the auto-da-fe at which the heretics were committed to the flames.  He would have done so gladly, and after this mournful experience even regretted that he had granted the German misleader, Luther, the safe conduct promised.

Before a fatal weakness suddenly attacked him his health had been rather better than before; then his voice failed, and Quijada was compelled to kneel beside his bed that he might understand what he wished to impress upon him.  While doing so, the dying man had expressed the desire that Don Luis would commend Geronimo to the love of his son Philip.

He had also remembered the love of better days, and when Barbara insisted upon learning what he had said of her, Wolf, who had heard it from Don Luis, did not withhold it.

He had complained of her perverse nature.  Had she obediently gone to the convent, he might have spared himself and her the sorrow of holding her so rigidly aloof from his person.  Finally, he had spoken of her singing with rapturous delight.  At night the “Quia amore langueo” from the Mary motet had echoed softly from his lips, and when he perceived that Don Luis had heard him, he murmured that this peerless cry of longing, reminded him not of the earthly but the heavenly love.

At these words Barbara hid her face in her hands, and Wolf paused until she had controlled the sobs which shook her breast.

Then he went on, she listening devoutly with wet eyes and clasped hands.

The Archbishop of Toledo was summoned, and predicted that Charles would die on the day after to-morrow, St. Matthew’s day.  He was born on St. Matthias’s day, and he would depart from life on St. Matthew’s,—­[September 12, 1558]—­Matthias’s brother and fellow-disciple.

So it was, and Barbara remembered that his son and hers had also seen the light of the world on St. Matthias’s day.

Charles’s death-agony was severe.  When Dr. Mathys at last said softly to those who were present, “Jam moritur,”—­[Now he is dying]—­the loud cry “Jesus!” escaped his lips, and he sank back upon the pillows lifeless.

Here Wolf was again obliged to give his weeping friend time to calm herself.

What he now had to relate—­both knew it—­was well suited to transform the tears which Barbara was shedding in memory of the beloved dead to tears of joy.

While she was wiping her eyes, Wolf described the great anxiety which, after Charles’s death, overpowered the Quijadas in Villagarcia.

The codicil had existed, and Don Luis was familiar with its contents.  But how would King Philip take it?

Dona Magdalena knew not what to do with herself in her anxiety.

The immediate future must decide Geronimo’s fate, so she went on a pilgrimage with her darling to the Madonna of Guadelupe to pray for the repose of the Emperor’s soul, and also to beseech the gracious Virgin mercifully to remember him, Geronimo.