as her heart, could bestow upon him to whom she gave all the love that she possessed!  And he must want something of her which was to be concealed from the wife.  She could not be mistaken.  She had never been deceived in a presentiment that was so positive.  Ever since she reached Augsburg, an inner voice had told her—­and old Brigitta’s cards confirmed it—­that the destiny of her life would be decided here, and he alone held her weal and woe in his hand.

Yet she had misinterpreted his conduct to his wife.  In spite of the finery which Kuni owed to the generosity of the Knight of Neckerfels, who was then a suitor for her favour, Lienhard had recognised her.  The sight recalled their last meeting and its painful termination, and therefore he had omitted to attract Frau Katharina’s attention to her immediately.  But, ere Kuni disappeared, he had repaired the oversight, and both desired to ascertain the fate of their former charge.  True, the wish could not be instantly fulfilled, for Lienhard’s time and strength were wholly claimed by the mission intrusted to him by the Emperor and the Council.

The next afternoon Kuni ascended the rope to the steeple in the presence of many princes and dignitaries.  Firmly as ever she moved along the rope stretched through the wooden stay behind her, holding the balancing pole as she went.  The clapping of hands and shouts of applause with which the crowd greeted “the flying maiden” led her to kiss her hand to the right and the left, and bow to the stand which had been erected for the crowned heads, counts, nobles, and their wives.  In doing so, she looked down at the aristocratic spectators to ascertain whether the Emperor and one other were among them.  In spite of the height of the topmost window of the steeple where she stood, her keen eyes showed her that Maximilian’s seat was still vacant.  As it was hung with purple draperies and richly garlanded, the monarch was evidently expected.  This pleased her, and her heart throbbed faster as she saw on the stand all the nobles who were entitled to admittance to the lists of a tournament, and, in the front row, the man whose presence she most desired.  At Lienhard’s right sat his dazzlingly beautiful wife, adorned with plumes and the most superb gold ornaments; at his left was a maiden of extremely peculiar charm.  According to years she was still a child, but her delicate, mobile features had a mature expression, which sometimes gave her a precocious air of superiority.  The cut of her white robe and the little laurel wreath on her brown curls reminded Kuni of the pagan Genius on an ancient work of marble which she had seen in Verona.  Neither the girl’s age nor her light, airy costume harmonized with her surroundings; for the maids and matrons near her were all far beyond childhood, and wore the richest holiday costumes of heavy brocades and velvets.  The huge puffs on the upper part of the sleeves touched the cheeks of many of the wearers, and the lace ruffs on the stiff collars rendered it easy, it is true, to maintain their aristocratic, haughty dignity, but prevented any free, swift movement.