Oberto turned, appealingly, towards his audience,--

"Fellow-citizens," he resumed, "your desires shall be gratified; you

shall have all that you ask. To-day a delegation will leave Milan to

treat for the surrender of the city; but the consequences must rest on

your own shoulders; you will regret and bewail them. If the Lombard

race is degenerate, if it courts its own slavery with eagerness, let

its wishes be accomplished."

There was for a moment a profound silence. Oberto had spoken so sadly,

his features expressed such bitter anguish, that the sympathy of many

was awakened, but the ringleaders were firm.

"These are only fine words, comrades!" they said. "Barbarossa won't eat

us; he may shave off a little of our liberty, and force us to pay the

expenses of the war; he will demolish some of the forts, which we can

build again when we please; all the rest will be as it was before!"

"Certainly! certainly!" cried many voices.

"Brothers, let us go to the municipal palace!" was yelled out; "let us

see whether the consuls will keep their promise!"

"Yes, yes! let us go there at once!"

The mob rushed to the official residence and surrounded the building,

until the delegation, preceded by a herald bearing a white flag,

appeared upon the steps of the palace; and then, as though fearing some

trickery, accompanied the commissioners to the city gates, where they

watched them enter the enemy's camp. About two hours afterwards, the

envoys returned with a message that, on the ensuing day, the Emperor

would receive and consider the terms offered by the besieged. Still the

news did not give universal satisfaction; for, although the rabble was

delighted, the more respectable class of the citizens and the nobility

winced under the disgrace. On the next day, four of the consuls

repaired to the Imperial camp, where they met with a reception which

foretold clearly the probable fate of their city. They were not

admitted to the Emperor's quarters, but obliged to await his pleasure

in the open air, exposed to all the severity of the weather. A violent

storm burst forth meanwhile, accompanied by thunder and lightning and

torrents of rain, and in a few moments the unfortunate consuls,

drenched to the skin, and with their costly robes clinging to their

persons, sought in vain a shelter, which was refused to them, amid the

jeers and mockeries of the insolent lackeys.

They felt deeply humbled by this treatment, so different to what they

had been accustomed to in their native city, where they had always

occupied the first place in the public estimation. With bent heads and

clothes soiled with water and mire, their faces expressive of sadness

and resignation, these noble old men looked like statues--strangers to

all the concerns of earth.

At last they were admitted to the council-hall, where Frederic was

seated, surrounded by all the dignitaries of the Empire and the consuls

of the allied towns. The Milanese threw themselves at the Emperor's

feet, and then Gherardo Nigri laid before him the terms which they were

commissioned to propose.

"Sire, illustrious princes, noble lords," he said, "the disasters of a

protracted siege have at last inclined my countrymen to submission and

peace. It is true that our formidable works would have enabled us for

some time to resist the enemy's attacks--"

"Enough!" interrupted Barbarossa, abruptly. "State simply the terms of

surrender, without any commentaries."

"I obey," replied Nigri, mortified that he should be obliged to submit

tamely to his country's humiliation. "Our terms embrace everything

which could possibly be demanded; even were the city taken by storm,

your Majesty could exact little more. Milan will demolish her

fortifications and build an Imperial citadel at her own expense; she

will annul all her treaties of alliance; will admit your army within

the walls; will give three hundred hostages to be held for three years;

will recognize the supremacy of the German functionaries over all

others; will acknowledge fealty to your Majesty, and will pay a tribute

which shall be established at a future period."

The German nobles appeared satisfied, but the consuls of the allied

towns shook their heads in token of their disapproval.

"Duke," said Frederic to Henry the Lion, "what think you of these

propositions?"

"I think that nothing more can be asked for," replied Henry. "I

confess, however, to my surprise, that the haughty city of Milan should

have consented to draw them up."

The other nobles, as well as the bishops of the Empire, were of a

similar opinion.

"However," observed the Bishop of Munster, "should His Majesty consider

the chastisement as insufficient, I am opposed to the adoption of the

enemy's conditions."

"It is well known," said the Pavian consul, "that the Milanese are

always as willing to make as they are to break their engagements. Sire,

reflect upon the treachery of the past, and do not allow them to renew

it."

"Milan destroyed our city and led away her inhabitants as captives; let

the same fate be inflicted upon her," urged the consul of Lodi.

"Unexampled confiscations have filled the Milanese treasury; it will

not be difficult for the city to pay a heavy tribute," added the Consul

of Novara. "When, after three years' absence, her hostages return, it

will be easy to rebuild the fortifications which she now promises to

demolish. She will again destroy the Imperial citadel, make new

alliances, and put herself at the head of a new league against the

Emperor and the Empire. The propositions now submitted to your Majesty

offer an insufficient guaranty against a relapse into her former

tyranny."

"So long as Milan exists, the safety and peace of Lombardy cannot be

assured on a solid basis," said the consul of Vercelli. "Your Highness

must not only perform an act of justice, but also protect the interests

of the Italian cities. Not a stone should be left upon another in

Milan!"

The nobles seemed to dissent; but Frederic, who had silently listened

to the various arguments, gave no intimation of his own sentiments,

whether they were in favor of moderation or anger.

"The opinions are divided," said he, at length; "my Lord Chancellor, be

so kind as to give us your advice."

"It seems to me," answered Rinaldo, "that the grave outrages committed

against your Imperial Majesty, can only be expiated by an unreserved

submission. If Milan has decided to cease her resistance, let her yield

to the Emperor unconditionally; it should depend upon his generosity

whether the voice of pity or of vengeance is to prevail."

"We agree with you, my lord," said Frederic; "your words decide the

question. It is not the besieged, but the victor, who should dictate

the conditions. Whenever Milan shall have surrendered at discretion, we

will make known our intentions."

"Our powers scarcely go so far," replied Nigri.

"You can inform your countrymen of our pleasure. Lose no time here,

that your delay may not retard the destiny of your city."

_CHAPTER XXIX_.

_HUMILIATION_.

The Milanese had not doubted that their proposition would be at once

accepted. Frederic's refusal consequently was a matter of surprise, and

a majority of the most influential citizens felt confident that the

people would continue an energetic defence, rather than unconditionally

capitulate. They were mistaken. The Milanese refused to hear a word

spoken in favor of further resistance.

When this information was communicated to the monarch, his

satisfaction was unbounded, for he foresaw at once the results of his

victory;--with Milan fell the last support of Alexander III.

Frederic had driven the unfortunate Pontiff from Rome; and although

Genoa had offered him an asylum, this city could not hope to be able

long to serve as a refuge to the fugitive head of the Church; for with

the surrender of Milan, the resistance of the remaining cities of

Lombardy became unavailing.

"The chief bulwark of Alexander's faction is levelled, and his defeat

prepares a glorious future for you, Sire," said Rinaldo, entering the

Imperial chamber. "Your wish of itself will suffice to drive Roland

from Genoa. And where can he go then? Spain alone can support his

supremacy so long as she is not struggling against the Moors. As to

France, she cannot recognize this pretended pope, and England must

follow her example. I see nothing for him but to seek the aid of the

Saracens,--a strange alliance for His Holiness."

He was dreaming of the future; Frederic, on the other hand, was

occupied only with the present. He desired that the formal surrender of

Milan should take place in the style best calculated to strike the

imagination. He wanted a tragedy to mark the fall of this queen of

Lombardy, and he fixed the 6th of March as the date of the performance.

A platform, sufficiently vast to accommodate, at the same time, the

Emperor and all his nobles, was erected outside of the camp. It was an

amphitheatre, with fourteen tiers of seats for the nobility, whilst the

Imperial throne towered above in splendid magnificence, an emblem of

the supremacy of the sovereign. The platform was hung with scarlet

cloth, and costly carpets were spread in the immediate vicinity of the

monarch's stand, which was richly ornamented with garlands of flowers

and decked with the pennons of the different princes. Behind was

hoisted the Imperial banner.

On the appointed day the troops were drawn up in battle-array upon the

plain, and the sunlight danced merrily upon the thousands of helmets

and lances of polished steel. Nearer, the knights, in complete armor,

sat motionless upon their chargers, like a wall of iron.

The Milanese advanced despondently and slowly in dense masses. At their

head walked the consuls, barefooted, with halters around their necks,

and clothed in sackcloth. The banners and escutcheons of the several

municipalities were borne aloft on long lances. Not a breath of wind

moved them, and they hung sadly against their staves, as though

mourning their city's ruin. The keys of the town were carried on a

cushion of blue velvet, ready to be offered, by the consuls, to the

Emperor. The bugles at times rang out a melancholy wail of despair, and

when they ceased, there went up a dirge of woe mingled with

supplications for mercy, like those uttered by the people in moments of

national calamity. It seemed as if Heaven were taking part in the

sombre pageant, for dark clouds suddenly veiled the sun, and the air

grew heavy and oppressive. The victors themselves were affected by the

sight of this humiliation of their valiant enemies, and only among the

troops of the Italian auxiliaries could be seen a sneer of irony and

exultation.

The consuls halted in front of the platform, and a thrill of anxious

expectation ran from rank to rank, until it reached the gates of Milan,

whence the people still continued to issue. Insensibly the crowd stood

still. The very boldest now were bowed to the earth. On all sides

nothing met the eye but ashes and cords and penitential vestments. The

trumpets were silent, and the solemn chant, _Kyrie Eleison_! _Kyrie

Eleison_! was heard, as if the citizens would show that they expected

no aid now but from God. From time to time a plaintive groan was

answered by a thousand sighs of agony: it seemed the dying breath of a

whole nation whose funeral knell was sounding.

There was a flourish of trumpets near the Imperial tent; Barbarossa was

about to appear. The sound grew nearer and more distinct; and then the

Emperor, surrounded by his nobles, rode up and dismounted about thirty

paces from the throne. With haughty bearing and a look of pride upon

his face, Frederic moved forward, followed by a splendid array of

knights and princes. Far away in the distance stretched the serried

ranks of the army, and the whole scene had that character of majestic

grandeur so well suited to the sovereign who dictated the laws of the

world.

Next to the monarch came the ambassadors of France and Spain and

England, who, although nominally sent to the Court on business of

State, seemed only there to share in Barbarossa's triumph as spectators

of his greatness. Frederic mounted the throne, his nobles took seats in

the amphitheatre, and at once a loud shout of glad applause rent the

air. The meanest soldier of the army rejoiced, for he felt that the

bright rays of the Imperial sun shone even upon him. He saw the Emperor

above all; below him were the brilliant ranks of the nobles, at his

feet the people of Milan, prostrate and humbled in the dust! The mind

of Barbarossa was occupied with considerations of grave importance. His

face beamed with the intoxication of success, for his soul exulted in

his new honors. He saw all the nations, from Rome to Lubeck, with their

millions of inhabitants, submissive to his sceptre. He thought of

England and Spain, and France and Greece; and though there was much for

him to do ere they could be overcome, the end which he had in view

seemed bright with hope. His dream was to establish the supremacy of

the Empire over all the thrones of Christendom. He was ambitious to be

the successor of Charlemagne, not merely in name and dignity, but also

in power. Plunged in his revery, he had forgotten even the contemplated

demolition of rebellious Milan. The consuls had delivered up the keys

of the city, already they had sworn their fealty, in the presence of

four hundred nobles, when a tumultuous movement of the troops

interrupted his meditations.

One wing of the army which occupied the open space between the

encampment and the fortress, had changed front, and swinging round,

opened a passage to the advancing population, which was mingling its

groans and lamentations with the blasts of martial music and the shouts

of triumph. With halters around their necks and cross in hand, covered

with sackcloth and penitential vestments, they halted, successively,

before the Imperial throne, and as each group laid down before it their

banners and trumpets, they solemnly swore fealty, and then, slowly and

sadly, took their way towards the narrow space reserved for them on the

opposite side of the plain.

There was something really majestic in this simple demonstration of the

Milanese; and as their bugles sounded their farewell notes, and their

banners fell upon the ground, one would have imagined that a fraction

of the people was breathing its last sigh. Even the conquerors were

moved to pity, and although those nearest to the sovereign prudently

dissembled their emotion, the tears coursed down the bronzed cheeks of

more than one rude soldier. Barbarossa alone was stern and pitiless,

and his remorseless glance, bent upon the vanquished foe, seemed to

indicate that he considered the punishment a feeble atonement for the

outrage offered to his Imperial majesty.

The plain was now covered with a dense crowd. An immense chariot, drawn

by five white oxen, advanced slowly, bearing the celebrated statue of

St. Ambrose, Milan's patron saint, and an immense pole from which

fluttered the city's flag and those of all the other towns of the

confederation. The chariot was hung with scarlet cloth, the drivers

were dressed in scarlet, and twelve warriors, with casques and corslets

of polished steel, covered with robes of purple, formed an escort of

honor.

This chariot, which had been built by the Archbishop Ariberti, played

an important part in times of war, and was looked upon almost as the

_Palladium_ of the City of Milan.

During battle its banner towered above the combatants, and served as a

rallying-point; and it was the duty of the citizens to defend it to the

death,--it was the symbol, the soul of the free City, the glory and

honor of Milan.

It halted in front of the throne, and the guards descended. A

death-like silence reigned, and glances of tearful anger were turned

towards Barbarossa. Suddenly an ominous crash was heard, the flag-staff

had broken, and its fall upset the car. The image of St. Ambrose, the

flags and banners, had rolled in the dust; and the deep bell of the

distant cathedral tolled out mournfully, as these symbols, once so

brilliant, lay stretched upon the ground, in striking analogy to the

fate which awaited Milan.

The people broke oat in groans of rage; some tore their hair in very

desperation, while others, yielding to the weight of their emotion,

were silent and bit their lips with grief and mortification. Still the

Emperor remained unmoved, although there were tears on the energetic

face of Henry the Lion, and his features told of his deep sympathy with

the humiliation of the illustrious city.

The Count of Biandrate, formerly an ally of the Milanese, but now a

stanch partisan of the Emperor, advanced, and kneeling before the

sovereign, craved his mercy.

"I implore your Majesty," he said, "to have pity upon this people,

which, humbled in the dust, prays for your forgiveness. All the

greatness, all the power of the proud city is at your feet. Do not

regard them as criminals; look upon them as your children who knew not

how to discriminate between good and evil; grant them their lives, and

let compassion moderate your justice!"

"Experience has already taught us the sad results of too much

clemency," answered Barbarossa. "Milan has despised and rejected our

favors, and has always remained the centre of all the seditions, the

directress of all the plots against the Empire and its sovereign."

"Nevertheless, I still supplicate your Majesty," continued the Count,

seeing that the Emperor's hesitation displeased the nobles, "not to

break the bruised reed. Would the fame of your Highness, or of the

German nation be increased, if, upon a sign from you, this mighty city,

this assemblage of warriors, became the object of a chastisement

unequalled in the annals of Christendom?"

The nobles audibly gave signs of approbation, and Frederic was unable

to resist. Too much violence might produce unpleasant consequences; he

understood the position and moderated his sentence.

"I will treat them with all the forbearance which is compatible with

justice," he said. "All have merited death; we will grant their lives

to all!"

"God be praised!" exclaimed the nobles.

But the Italians murmured. They wished nothing less than the

destruction of the city; and several of the consuls of the allied towns

stepped forward, and expressed their views with a violence and

animosity which, inwardly, pleased the Emperor.

"Sire," said the Pavian consul, "Milan destroyed Como and Lodi, it is

but justice that she should share their fate."

"Recollect, Sire," added the consul of Vercelli, "that you owe support

to those who always remained faithful to your cause. So long as Milan

exists, neither peace nor order is possible. You have conquered the

she-wolf; your trusty sword has forced her to grovel in the dust; but

that is not enough; she must be destroyed! A few years hence, and

Milan, always thirsting for her neighbors' blood, will again extend her

tyranny over all Lombardy. We ask for simple justice. Sire, give us

justice!"

"You have every right to demand our protection," replied Frederic, "and

you shall have it. We will never permit our faithful subjects to be

oppressed. Milan shall be deserted, and within fifteen days all its

inhabitants must leave the city, and be divided into four detachments

separated from each other by a distance of at least two miles."

The monarch arose and gave the signal that the ceremony was

finished.--He mounted his charger, and, surrounded by his nobles,

trampling under their horses' hoofs the banners which were spread out

upon the ground,--returned to his camp amid the loud strains of martial

music, while the Milanese wept sadly over the destruction of their much

loved city.

_CHAPTER XXX_.

_AMUSEMENTS_.

On the 26th of March, 1162, the victorious Emperor made his triumphal

entry into the conquered city, not through the gates, but over the

dismantled fortifications. Thence he proceeded with his Court to Pavia,

where he celebrated his successes with extraordinary pomp, and received

the envoys from the cities allied to Milan, who, despairing of

preserving their liberty, came to tender their submission. Severe terms

were imposed upon Brescia, Placenza, Imola, Faenza, and Bologna, while

immense concessions were granted to those towns which had remained

faithful to their allegiance. Barbarossa also opened negotiations with

the powerful maritime republics of Genoa and Pisa, to which were

secured, by a secret treaty, portions of Sicily and Catania, until a

more equal division could be made of the rich treasures of the King of

Naples.

In this way Frederic followed up his designs, even while he seemed most

absorbed in his pleasures.

Pavia surpassed herself in her efforts to entertain her illustrious

guest. The different corporations took turns in the amusements; but he

always found time to see everything, and nothing escaped his attention

or passed without praise. Accompanied by a brilliant retinue, often

with the Empress at his side, he rode through the streets decked with

flags, winning golden opinions from all, for he conversed freely with

the humblest citizen, and never dismissed unaided any one who came to

ask his pity.

Frederic possessed the great talent of nearly all those who aspire to

extended dominion; he knew how to conciliate popular sympathy.

After a succession of jousts and tournaments, balls and joyous galas,

it was decided to produce the spectacle of the capture of a fort

defended by women and young girls. A square redoubt was built, flanked

with small towers and balconies, and with walls of variegated stuffs,

of velvets, purple, and ermine. The actors were clothed in rich

tissues, decorated with gold and diamonds; and in place of helmets they

wore crowns of filigree-work or costly diadems. In lieu of deadly

weapons, they carried perfumed rose-water and amber, with which they

drenched the assailants. The variety of colors, the splendid materials

which formed the fortress, and the grace and beauty of its defenders,

made up a charming picture.

Before the assault, a new pageant advanced to the sound of joyous

music; it was the corporation of bakers, carrying before them on a car

decked with flags and ribbons, an immense cake, a masterpiece of their

art. They marched around the fortress singing, and then deposited their

offering near a tall pole, announcing that it was to be the prize of

the person who could pull down the banner fastened to the summit of the

mast.

Next came the corporation of the butchers, with an immense hog roasted

whole; they were followed by the game dealers and the other trade

societies, all with costly presents. The vast cask of wine offered by

the tavern-keepers caused especial pleasure to the Germans.

Meanwhile the young men prepared for the assault; surrounding the mimic

fortress, they were met with a shower of dates, pears, apples, nutmegs,

and cakes. Although it was only in sport, there was a good deal of

excitement, as is the case in the beginning of every contest, and the

cheeks of the fair defenders flushed, and their eyes flashed as their

enemies drew near.

The podesta raised his baton, and, to the sounds of a flute, the strife

began. On all sides a cloud of dates, quinces, and sweetmeats was

hurled against the fortress; the walls shook, and a noisy music drowned

the cries of the wounded. A shower of rose-water filled the air with

rich perfume, whilst a crowd of boys eagerly picked up the dainty

missiles.

One young man, particularly, displayed great energy during the assault.

Despite the rose-water and the amber, he reached the castle-door, and

forcing the passage with a rose-covered wand, penetrated to the heart

of the place. His courage excited the emulation and the envy of all;

but his triumph was short-lived, and he was soon expelled by the

besieged. He came out, wrapped from head to foot in a sheet smeared

with honey, and when at last he had succeeded in disentangling himself,

a swarm of flies covered him, to the great amusement of the spectators.

Soon the besiegers declared that the citadel was impregnable, and then

a lady of lofty bearing appeared upon one of the balconies, and

announced the terms of capitulation.

"You have learned, valiant warriors," she said, "that violence can

accomplish nothing against us women. It is true that you are our

masters, but we know how to repay with usury, anything like cruelty or

ill-treatment. Only show us kindness and courtesy, and you can have

what you will. By virtue of my office, as governor of this castle, I

think it my duty to inform you that we have kept it as long as it so

pleased us, and now we surrender of our own free will, in order to set

you an example of moderation."

This harangue was received with laughter and shouts of applause, and

then the music announced that the ascent of the pole would begin.

The Knight of Groswin, who was among the lookers-on, took no pains to

conceal his discontent; for the assault of the mimic fortress, far from

amusing him, had only provoked his anger, and it was evident that he

would have sought more congenial amusements, had he not been detained

there on duty.

"What a stupid game! what a silly idea!" he said, as he glanced towards

the balcony, where Frederic and his courtiers were laughing and talking

with animation.

"I cannot understand the Emperor," he resumed; "he chatters like an old

woman, and laughs as though he really were amused by these mummeries.

But, after all, it may only be a mask, the better to deceive these

Italians.--I wonder how he will look when he hears my message?"

Goswin left the crowd, and entering the palace, sought the Imperial

hall.

"That fellow climbs well," said Barbarossa to the Pisan envoy; "see how

tightly he clings to the slippery pole; I advise you to recruit him for

your fleet."

"We have plenty of sailors still more active than he Sire. The

approaching hostilities against Naples will show you of what our men

are capable."

"Have the deputies yet started for Pisa and Genoa?" inquired the

Emperor.

"They went yesterday, Sire," replied the Pisan.

"We will take advantage of the present opportunity, and no longer delay

the punishment which the unfriendly behavior of the Neapolitan king so

well merits. I am confident that the opposition of Venice is only

prolonged by William's assistance."

"Perhaps it would be well to curb the power of the Venetians a little?"

remarked a Genoese. "It is not an easy matter, but your Majesty can be

assured of our hearty co-operation."

Frederic received this overture with evident satisfaction; the mutual

jealousy of the Italian cities served his own projects admirably.

"What tidings does the Knight Goswin bring us?" asked the Emperor, as

the noble entered.

"A communication which your Highness----"

"Is it very important?" said Frederic, hastily, fearing lest the

imprudent soldier might reveal, to indiscreet ears, things which ought

not to be known to every one. "Excuse me for a moment, my lords," and

he withdrew on one side with Goswin.

"Well, what is it?" he asked.

"Count Rechberg has returned to Lombardy."

"Is that all? there was scarcely need to take the trouble of telling me

anything so unimportant."

"It was the abbot who announced it to me; and I was to communicate it

to you," replied Goswin.

"The abbot!--What abbot?" asked the Emperor.

"The one who came to your camp before Milan, last summer."

"The Abbot Conrad, you mean?"

"Perhaps that is his name; he awaits you in the palace."

"What motive can bring him?" inquired Frederic, greatly surprised.

"I can tell you, Sire: the abbot comes in the name of the Archbishop of

Salzburg, who is now near Pavia with some other prelates."

"What is this you say?" cried Barbarossa; "the Archbishop of Salzburg

in Italy, near us! How stupid in you, Goswin, to announce in this

frivolous manner a matter of such great importance!"

"I supposed that Count Erwin had, at least, as much importance in your

eyes, as the Bishop of Salzburg," answered the knight.

"But why does he remain outside of the town? What prelates are with

him?"

"You can ask him yourself, Sire."

Frederic was going out, when the Podesta of Pavia entered.

"One word only, Sire," he said.

"Well, but speak quickly; the Metropolitan of Salzburg, accompanied by

several other prelates, has just arrived to offer us their

congratulations."

The crafty Pavian understood better than Goswin the bearings of this

visit.

"It is another victory, Sire, a new triumph for your ideas, more

important, perhaps, even than that which you achieved at Milan. I

merely wished to inquire whether the two hundred silver marks, which

Pavia has laid at your feet, will be sufficient?--we are quite ready to

offer more, should it be required."

"The sum is sufficient, Count; many thanks!"

"I also desire to remark, that the destruction of Tortona is absolutely

necessary to the security of your faithful Pavia. Your magnanimous

generosity was satisfied with the demolition of the fortifications;

but, Sire, the work is only half done."

"Pavia has nothing to fear from an open place."

"Walls are soon rebuilt, Sire, and you know the unfriendly feelings of

Tortona towards us. We Pavians are ready to make any sacrifice, if you

will allow us to destroy that city."

Frederic, without answering, left the room abruptly.

"Very well!" said the Podesta, rubbing his hands gayly; "that means, do

as you please: I will not do it myself, but I will not forbid it."

Goswin had heard all the conversation, and even his intelligence took

in all the immorality of the scene.

"This really is a piece of knavery!" he said, as he followed his

master. "Tortona displeases Pavia; Pavia offers money to the Emperor,

and Tortona will be destroyed! Now I call this proceeding neither

honorable, imperial, nor even Christian."

The monarch hastened to the ancient palace of the Lombard kings, in

which he had established his quarters. Scarcely had he arrived, when

Pope Victor requested an audience. It was refused, but the Abbot

Conrad, on the contrary, was immediately admitted in company with the

Chancellor Rinaldo.

"You are right welcome to Pavia, my lord Abbot," said Barbarossa, "and

the more so, because you announce the visit of our worthy Metropolitan

of Salzburg."

At these words he glanced towards Dassel, whose impassive face, as the

Emperor well knew, boded no good.

"The prelate offers his respectful salutations, and begs your Majesty

to appoint a time for an audience, in some other city than Pavia," said

the Abbot Conrad.

"In some other city! And for what reason?"

"Because it is not seemly for the Archbishop to enter the city where

Victor holds his court. His duty forbids him to have any intercourse

with the Antipope, and a sojourn in Pavia might be construed as a

recognition of his claims," replied the abbot.

Rinaldo made a sign to Barbarossa, who listened without any evidence

of what was passing in his mind. Eberhard's reputation in Italy was

wide-spread, and this refusal to hold any communication with the

Antipope was naturally calculated to displease the Emperor.

"We can fully appreciate the Archbishop's prudence," remarked Frederic,

after a moment's reflection; "where is he at present?"

"In the Abbey of St. Martin."

"At St. Martin, in that paltry cloister which has scarcely wherewithal

to feed its own monks! We will direct an immediate change, more in

harmony with Eberhard's dignity and position. What prelates has he with

him?"

"The Bishop of Brixen, the Prior of Reichersburg, and several abbots,"

answered Conrad.

"We are highly pleased at the arrival of these worthy prelates. Be

prepared, my lord Abbot, to return here soon with some of my courtiers,

whom we will send forward to meet the Archbishop."

Scarcely had Conrad left the room when Victor entered; mortification

and anger were depicted on his countenance.

"I crave your pardon," he said, "if my visit here be inopportune, but I

have been grievously insulted, and I am well aware that your Majesty

will not leave unpunished those who outrage the legitimate Pope."

"We are seriously busy in State affairs," replied Frederic, in a tone

of ill-humor; "however, relate at once your complaint."

"Eberhard of Salzburg refuses to obey me, and rather than contaminate

himself by contact with the schismatic Victor, has left Pavia. This

public degradation is insupportable; the Chief of the Church, duly

appointed and confirmed by the Emperor, must not be thus vilified

before all Christendom; such an indignity deserves punishment."

"I am extremely grieved by this affront; what would you advise me to

do?" asked the Emperor.

"Chastise the Archbishop's pride, Sire; and oblige him to acknowledge

the lawful Pope."

"Oblige him! how does your wisdom interpret this?"

"If he will not obey willingly, let him be made to obey by force:--The

only man whose energy sustains the schism in the German Church is in

your power."

"You counsel, then, his arrest and close confinement?"

"It will scarcely be necessary to proceed to such extreme measures. The

fear which your Majesty inspires is quite enough of itself to make him

bend the knee."

"Men of Eberhard's character are not easily influenced by fear; that

sentiment is unknown to them. A much more effective mode of persuasion

would be a visit from you to the Archbishop."

"What say you!--I humble myself thus!--I solicit the friendship of a

rebellious prelate!"

"Perhaps we may desire you to take this step. If this alone can put an

end to the present difficulty, it must be done."

Victor was thunderstruck at these words. Although his relations with

the Emperor were such that he had long lost all self-consideration or

respect; even his spirit revolted at the baseness of the step which he

was advised to take.

"Your Majesty can never force me to this act of degradation," he said;

"I would rather resign the tiara."

"I have said perhaps:--We must be prepared for everything. But allow me

to return to this business, which is pressing."

Victor protested his ready obedience, and bowed himself out of the

room.

"He will have to come to it," said Frederic, turning towards Dassel,

who had kept to one side. "You will remember," he added, "that you have

heard nothing of our conversation with the Pope."

"Sire, it is impossible; I must speak to you of it."

"To what end?"

"To what end! Can anything be of greater importance than to ward off

the blow which Eberhard is about to strike against you and the Holy

Father? Thank Heaven, circumstances will permit you to surmount the

difficulty."

"Explain yourself."

"You expect, in the course of the next two days, the arrival of the

relics of the three Magi which are to be borne here from Milan in

solemn procession. The respect which you will show will prove to all in

Pavia the ardor of your religious faith, and to do them still greater

honor, you will send the Pope in advance to meet them. Victor can start

early to-morrow, and in this way you can remove the purulent infection

which is so offensive to the too delicate Archbishop."

"But will not Victor return with the relics?"

"He must not return; an order from your Majesty will take him to Lodi,

where he will wait until he is wanted."

"Excellent!"

"Eberhard is in earnest, and your Majesty must stint nothing in the

evidences of respect shown to him. The people will admire your

condescension. Let your embassy be as brilliant as possible. Count Haro

should be one of your envoys; he possesses a magnificent castle between

Pavia and St. Martin. He can conduct the prelates thither, and your

Majesty can then encounter this Goliah of the South-German Episcopacy."

"Bravo!" cried Frederic; "I approve of everything: Act at once."

_CHAPTER XXXI_.

_AT RIVOLI_.

An express was immediately dispatched to Rivoli, bearing to Count Haro

the order to get all the apartments of his castle in readiness. Dassel

himself sent forward a train of mules, bearing costly carpets, silver

candlesticks, and massive plate--everything, in short, which was needed

to offer a most sumptuous hospitality. The castle, usually so quiet,

assumed an air of gayety, and the steward rushed in every direction,

arranging and disarranging, ordering, scolding, and hastening on the

preparations.

The chaplain of the castle alone remained calm, in the midst of the

general confusion. Evidently, some unusual occurrence condemned him to

idleness, for his callous hands showed that his occupations were not

purely intellectual. The servants generally abandoned to him everything

which they refused to do, and his appearance was rather that of a

stable-boy than an ecclesiastic. Although he had received but a limited

education, Rainulph felt the impropriety of such behavior, and often

complained that his spiritual functions were not regarded with becoming

reverence. But his murmurs rarely reached the Count's ear, and when

they did, little attention was paid to them; for Haro, always at Court,

knew too well the Emperor's course towards the Pope to be respectful to

his own chaplain.

"Since the Pope," he told him, "obeys Frederic's orders, you must make

up your mind to do as I tell you."

But the chaplain of Rivoli was suddenly aroused from his inactivity by

a shrill voice.

"How is this, sluggard?" cried the angry steward; "the stable is not

swept yet, everything is out of place, and the horses of His Majesty

and the Court will be here directly!"

"I don't care," answered Rainulph; "the manure may stay there; I shall

not touch it!"

The steward could not believe his ears. The conduct of the formerly

submissive chaplain seemed inexplicable.

"Are you mad? Have you not done that work a hundred times?"

"Yes, and more too! You have made me do the most menial drudgery, and I

have complained in vain; but it is different to-day."

"I suppose that you hardly intend to appeal to the Emperor?" sneered

the other. "You will make a fine thing of it. Don't you know, fool,

that the Pope and the bishops are as much the servants of the Emperor

as the chaplains are of the Castellan? I tell you it is the custom!"

"It is a bad custom, an impious custom! Priests were not ordained to

clean out stables, but to discharge their sacred calling."

"Ah! what a noble transport! Wait a minute, till I teach you your

duty!"

At that moment a horseman dashed up, and announced that the prelates

were close at hand. The steward raised his eyes to heaven, tore his

hair, ordered the chaplain to be locked up in one of the towers, and,

entering the castle, mounted upon a turret.

"May all the saints aid me!" he cried, as he saw the valley shining

with helmets, and lances, and armor. "What! it is a whole army!--an

army of knights and counts! How am I to lodge all these in Rivoli,

where there is scarcely room for twenty lords with their retinues? It

is impossible; they cannot all come here! They must be blind not to see

that the castle cannot hold them, even were I to stow some of the

knights in the barns and the cellars. No! it is not possible! But let

us see: they are at the foot of the hill. Ah! the men-at-arms halt, and

are letting the prelates take the lead. Quick, Romano, quick! put on

your finest suit, the newest you have. To-day you must be marshal of

the palace."

Whilst the steward was donning his rich livery, and taking his long

silver-headed staff of office, Eberhard of Salzburg slowly ascended the

hill. The old man was tall in stature, of energetic strongly-marked

features, whose expression was by no means softened by a pair of

piercing eyes. His voice was deep and sonorous, and all his words

carefully selected. He rode easily, in spite of his advanced age, which

had neither broken down his vigorous physical strength nor weakened his

intellect. His suite and the costume which he himself wore indicated

his high rank. His surcoat was bordered with ermine, and he wore around

his neck a heavy gold chain, to which hung a pastoral cross enriched

with jewels. The saddle of his courser was ornamented with rings and

buckles of silver.

By his side were Herman, Bishop of Brixen; and Gerhoh, prior of

Reichersberg; two noble dignitaries of grave and serious demeanor.

Behind them were several abbots, and last, the escort of honor, sent by

Frederic, in which could be remarked Count Erwin of Rechberg.

Count Haro hastened to the court-yard to welcome the prelate, as he

dismounted; a crowd of servants stood ready to take care of the horses,

and soon the noble hosts were introduced to the castle.

Eberhard's own followers remained at the foot of the hill, where they

at once pitched their tents, as was the custom of the time. About two

hundred soldiers had accompanied the Archbishop, from Salzburg, and

formed an escort sufficiently numerous to hold in awe the most

desperate highwaymen.

The prelate knew that a display of strength always imposes upon savage

and uneducated men, and, although living, in his own house, with almost

monastic simplicity, he never neglected on all public occasions to

appear with as much pomp as possible.

Offering his fatigue as an excuse, he partook but lightly of the

banquet, and soon retired to his own apartment; the other ecclesiastics

shortly followed his example; but Haro and the laymen, who were his

guests, remained at table until nightfall.

The pleasures of the feast offered little attraction to Erwin, and he

found still less pleasure in listening to the recital of Barbarossa's

victory over the Milanese, which he had already heard recounted a

hundred times, in all its most minute details.

Taking advantage of a beautiful spring evening, he left the hall and

the castle, and descending the hill, soon found himself in the little

park. He had scarcely taken his seat and begun to reflect that in spite

of the Metropolitan's intercession, his Imperial godfather might,

possibly, send him back again to Suabia, when a long whistle attracted

his attention. A little while after, the sound was repeated, and

replied to from the castle; then he heard footsteps, and saw two men

approach each other and converse in a low tone, at a short distance

from him.

The occurrence appeared mysterious and aroused his curiosity, the more

so, that these night-walkers wore the short cloaks and high hats of the

Italian nobility, which almost concealed the face. Rechberg listened

attentively, but could not make out their conversation. He only could

catch the names of "Pope, Emperor, France, and Eberhard," because they

were uttered with much energy. To his great surprise, he suddenly heard

his own name pronounced.

"Count Erwin of Rechberg!--It is not possible!"

The other added a few words in a smothered voice, to which a curse was

the reply. Then they separated, one of them moving towards the castle.

Erwin determined to accost the Unknown. The stranger with surprise

halted and laid his hand on his sword. Erwin looked at him attentively,

but could distinguish nothing, except a pair of flashing eyes and a

thick black beard.

"It is not my profession to interfere with honest people," he said,

"but as you made use of my name, just now, I have the right to ask who

you are and with what you reproach me."

"Who I am is of no importance to you, Count," answered the stranger;

"and if you follow the teachings of your own conscience, I can reproach

you with nothing."

"What do you mean? For whom do you take me?"

"For a frivolous youth, who forgets his promises too easily."

"Villain! withdraw this insult at once, or ----" And he put his hand to

his sword-hilt.

"I have no intention of offending you," replied the Unknown, coolly;

"do not draw your sword: not that I fear it, but because I have no wish

to fight with a gentleman whose enemy I am not."

"Ah! and yet you do not hesitate to calumniate me!"

"Unpleasant truths are not calumnies. It is positive that you have

broken your word, in a circumstance where it should have been held

sacred."

"The proof! Quickly--or, upon my honor, you shall not repeat the insult

a third time!"

"Do you know the Lady of Castellamare?

"Yes."

"You are betrothed to her."

"I am; what then?" asked Rechberg.

"Are you not restored to Barbarossa's favor on condition of marrying

another person?"

"I--forget Hermengarde!--such an assertion does not even merit a

denial."

"That is strange," said the Unknown, shaking his head.

"What else is there besides?"

"The Emperor banished you on account of your projects of marriage, and

yet you are back again."

"You conclude therefore that I have purchased the Imperial favor by the

violation of my word?"

"Such is my conviction."

"Why suppose evil rather than good? Would it not have been more

natural to think that Rechberg had profited by Eberhard's arrival to

obtain pardon through his intercession? That would have been reasonable

and just, and you would have guessed the correct motive of my return."

"Are you not invited to the Court?"

"I am not."

"If such is the case, your fidelity has been severely tested. Do not be

uneasy about your reconciliation with Barbarossa; you come at an

opportune moment. He needs you, or, rather, he would like to use you,

to accomplish an evil action. Still I hope that you will not allow

yourself to be led away."

"Will you explain your meaning?"

"You will learn it soon enough. Misfortune travels quickly. I merely

tell you: be faithful to your betrothed, to your wife; do not be

seduced or dazzled by ambition. Farewell!----"

"One moment! Cease this equivocation and tell me plainly what all this

means."

"Still, you must be satisfied with what I have made known to you: you

are forewarned; that is all that is necessary. Do not delay me, for my

time is precious; we will meet again in Pavia."

The stranger disappeared, and Rechberg, full of uneasiness, returned to

the castle.

_CHAPTER XXXII_.

_ALEXANDER'S AMBASSADOR_.

On the very next morning Erwin could judge of the truth of at least

some of the stranger's assertions. Frederic arrived early, and contrary

to the expectations of all, received our hero with open arms and every

token of sincere affection. Rechberg himself was surprised, for no

allusion whatever was made to the previous misunderstanding.

"You are welcome, Erwin," said the monarch, when Eberhard presented the

young man; "I heard of your arrival in Pavia, and was pleased to think

that you could accompany us to France."

He pressed the Count's hand with so much warmth, that the latter could

no longer doubt that his sovereign had some ulterior designs in view.

The Chancellor also was most amiable, and during their return to Pavia,

which took place the same day, rode constantly by his side, speaking of

the contemplated council which was to be held in France, at which the

French and English monarchs were to be present. He took such pains to

vaunt the riches and elegance of the French ambassador, Count Henry of

Champagne, whose sister had just married King Louis, that Rechberg was

completely puzzled, and resolved to be more than ever on his guard.

A magnificent reception had been prepared by Frederic's order in Pavia.

Victor and his partisans had left the city, and everything which could

possibly remind any one of the Antipope, had disappeared, even to the

arms which hung over his palace.

The zealous Omnibonus, Bishop of Verona, a stanch adherent of

Alexander, and the uncompromising opponent of Victor, received the

Metropolitan at the entrance of the cathedral. Barbarossa had

determined that the Archbishop should have no pretext for discontent,

and that he himself would appear free from all party spirit, and only

desirous of assuring the peace and unity of the Church. The pious

Eberhard, whom nothing could fatigue, was delighted with the state of

things. As it appeared, Pope Alexander, previous to his departure from

Genoa, had written to him to request his mediation with the Emperor,

and the prelate hoped to experience little difficulty in influencing

him to a kind and moderate course of action, particularly, as, during

their journey from Rivoli, Frederic had acknowledged, in a flattering

manner, the personal merits of the Pope. Eberhard, with Bishop Herman

of Brixen, immediately waited upon the Emperor, and were at once

received. As soon as Alexander's name was mentioned, a look of anger

crossed the monarch's face and his eyes flashed. It was gone in an

instant, but the Archbishop had perceived it, and although Frederic

listened calmly to his explanations, he feared to encounter an

inveterate and irreconcilable hatred. Judging that the Pope's letter

would best define his position, he laid it before the Emperor.

"The explanations offered by the Cardinal Roland are scarcely in

accordance with the efforts made by him to prolong the resistance of

the Milanese," remarked Barbarossa. "We hold positive proofs that he

encouraged the rebels, by presenting the revolt to them under the

appearance of a sacred war. You will acknowledge yourself, as a holy

and honorable ecclesiastic, that this is not the action of a loyal

subject."

"Sire," replied Eberhard, "Pope Alexander never either encouraged or

approved of the insurrection. The documents which your Majesty holds

are forgeries and valueless, as the work of people little worthy of

credit, who seek to advance their own selfish ends by sowing discord in

the Church. What is true, is, that Alexander thanked the Milanese for

their loyalty to him, and their opposition to the Antipope; in this, he

only did his duty."

"It is a sad business!" said Frederic, with a sigh. "Suppose, for

example, that we became the protector of Victor, and that the people

were excited to disobey him, the rebellion would be nothing but a

crusade against the schismatic Frederic of Hohenstauffen--"

"It is never lawful for Christians to fight against their sovereign,"

replied Eberhard. "In the time of Nero, they became martyrs for their

faith, but never rebels."

This observation seemed to reassure the Emperor.

"Very well," said he. "Personally, we have no cause of complaint

against Alexander. If the approaching council to be held at Besancon,

at which the bishops of our Empire and those of France and England are

to assist, pronounces the claims of Alexander to be legitimate, we

shall be the first to recognize his supremacy."

"The decision scarcely appears doubtful," said Herman of Brixen:

"Victor has violated every law too audaciously."

"As for ourselves," resumed Barbarossa, "we are not so proud but that

we are ready to acknowledge our error, so soon as it shall be proved."

"May the Divine grace produce good fruit to your desires," said the

Archbishop. "The Holy Father writes to you:--'I beg and supplicate the

Emperor to take pity on the Church, and grant her peace. Let him not

believe that aught of good can result from the evil which he has

promoted, for as the abyss of heresy widens, a still greater number of

souls plunge into it and are lost. Assure him that we are ready to

stretch forth our hand to bless him, as soon as he will renounce the

bonds of iniquity, and cease to protect the disloyal Octavian.' Words

truly evangelical!" added Eberhard; "with what joy the Holy Father will

learn that you do not spurn his offered hand!"

"Again, I must assure you, my lord Archbishop, that our decision is

entirely dependent upon that of the council," replied Barbarossa,

refraining from the discussion of a subject which diplomacy forbade him

to broach under its true light. "We understand that the relics of the

three kings will arrive to-morrow. We desire that they be received with

all the honor which they merit, and that they be exposed, for a few

days, in Pavia. It will gratify us should your Reverence deign to

organize the proper ecclesiastical ceremony."

"With infinite joy, Sire; I will be careful that the clerical

prescriptions are observed."

The monarch accompanied the prelates to the door of his apartment,

where he dismissed them. Scarcely had he re-entered, when Rinaldo

appeared.

"How did your Majesty sustain the first shock?" he inquired.

"Pretty well. We will recognize Alexander as soon as the council

acknowledge his claims."

"Excellent," said Dassel; "but we will take care that the council do

not acknowledge him. The presence of one as holy as Eberhard has

already begun to bear its fruits! He enjoys so vast a reputation of

sanctity among the people, that his visit suffices to make of the

schismatic Barbarossa the most faithful of the faithful. You must

acknowledge, Sire, that you really owe me a debt of gratitude for my

discovery. But let us not forget what is equally material: the wind has

completely shifted at the French Court. The Count of Champagne has

shown me a letter from the royal Chancellor, giving him full powers to

conclude an arrangement with you. This excellent Count is beside

himself with joy, for if he had been in his senses, he would most

certainly not have been quite so communicative."

"There is no reason to be astonished if the noble Count should have

lost his wits. Did we not promise him castles, and bailiwicks, and

fortresses along the Lorraine frontier?" replied the Emperor.

"It needed a tempting bait to catch the Count of Champagne; but a

diplomatist should never hesitate to make promises. The French

ambassador is yours, body and soul; ask him what you please, there is

no fear of a refusal."

"What can have caused this fortunate change?"

"Oh! little enough. Alexander received Louis' envoy quite roughly; he

preached a long sermon to the Abbot Theobald of St. Germains, and

threatened the Archbishop of Orleans, the royal Chancellor, with

canonical censure. The courtiers complain; the king is hurt, and

proposes to abandon Alexander."

"Very well!--What do you advise me to do now?"

"Let the Count, in the name of his sovereign, notify the French

ecclesiastics, and announce Alexander's coming. If, in the meanwhile,

Louis should change his mind, which, with the French character, is not

at all unlikely, either the Count will oblige the King to keep his

word, or he must be himself disavowed. In which latter case, Troyes,

Champagne, and the rich provinces which belong to them, will be happily

annexed to the Empire, and the French kingdom necessarily weakened."

"Your advice is good," said Frederic; "send in the Count, and have the

contract ready."

"The Count will doubtless remind your Majesty of my promises; do not

hesitate, ratify everything, and affix your seal, without scruple, to

all which he may propose."

"Best content," replied Barbarossa, as the Chancellor left the

apartment.

"Alexander, your death-knell has sounded!" exclaimed the Emperor; "and

soon the most dangerous enemy of our Imperial supremacy, the most

intrepid and cunning opponent to our wishes, will regret his haughty

conduct. Ah! for the Emperor to be altogether Emperor, the Pope must

not seek to divide the Empire with him. The pagan emperors called

themselves _Pontifices maximi_, and they were; why should I not be the

head of Church as well as State?"

Meanwhile Count Dassel was making every preparation for the treaty. On

his passage through the palace he approached a window looking into the

garden.

"He is not there yet," he said. "Ah! still--there they are; it is all

right!" and with a scornful sneer he disappeared.

It was towards Rechberg that the Chancellor's attention had been

directed. The Count was approaching, accompanied by a young nobleman,

whose appearance offered a certain resemblance to that of Rinaldo

himself. They were conversing with animation, and the bright look, the

graceful bearing, the elegant shape and ironical expression of the

nobleman, vividly recalled the German statesman.

"Your description of the Countess is calculated to excite one's

curiosity. Who is her father?" asked Erwin.

"Count Henry of Champagne, the ambassador and brother-in-law of the

King of France," replied the nobleman.

"Count Dassel has spoken to me of the father, but has said nothing of

the daughter."

"Indeed! he said nothing of her whom all Pavia is talking of,--nothing

about Richenza?"

"And you say that she leaves for France to-morrow?"

"I have heard so; she only came to do homage to the sacred relics."

"Where does she live?" asked Erwin.

"Outside of the city walls, in a villa; for the Count, though in every

way polite and courteous, keeps his daughter secluded. He seems like a

miser who watches anxiously over his treasure."

"He is a prudent father, Hellig."

"He would have done better to leave her at home."

"What frightful egotism! Richenza came here not to be seen, but to

see."

"You are right. But I shall not look at her again, although I shall

have the best chance in the world tomorrow at Pavia."

"Still you will go with me, Hellig?"

"What is the use of it? Must I point the sun out to you, and then tell

you it is there? You should take more care of your peace of mind; your

neighbor's misfortunes ought to serve you as a warning."

"Don't be alarmed. Suppose that I already possess a jewel whose

brilliancy eclipses all others; you tell me: Come, and see the

brightest diamond in the world! I shall go, although I am sure

beforehand that this treasure is naught in comparison to mine."

At this moment a courtier appeared with an invitation to Count Rechberg

to be present as a witness at the interview about to take place between

Frederic and the Ambassador of France.

_CHAPTER XXXIII_.

_A WARNING_.

The removal of the holy relics of the three Magi had excited the

people, and from all sides a crowd of every age and sex hurried forward

toward Pavia. The Emperor and his entire Court went out to meet the

procession, and soon a noise like the distant murmuring of the sea,

announced the approach of the relics.

The shrine, carried by the monks, was a work of art of inestimable

value. It was shaped like a dome, of gold and silver, studded with

precious stones. Four columns supported the roof, which was of solid

gold; and the sides exhibited medallions representing scenes in the

life of the three wise men of the East.

Eberhard of Salzburg inaugurated the ceremonies with the greatest

solemnity. Frederic and seven other princes bore the shrine through the

streets, which were lined by the knights, in complete armor, in order

to keep back the crowd. Flags floated from every turret and spire, and

the windows were decked with rich draperies and ornaments of gold and

silver, above which appeared the reverent faces of the pious

inhabitants. The streets were hidden beneath masses of flowers and

costly carpets; the bells tolled, and the people chanted hymns of

thanksgiving and of praise. Rinaldo himself, magnificently dressed,

seemed, as he walked along with clasped hands, to be animated by the

same sentiment of respectful awe which pervaded all classes of the

spectators. Occasionally he glanced stealthily at the Emperor with

every evidence of satisfaction on his features, for the crafty

chancellor fully appreciated the motives which had influenced his

sovereign to this parade of outward devotion.

Rechberg took part in the religious ceremony in an entirely different

frame of mind. He prayed fervently, joined in the sacred chants of the

congregation, and repeated audibly the invocations of the people. With

a lively faith in the power of the holy kings, he laid bare to them his

inmost heart, and sought their intercession. He besought them to draw

down the blessing of God upon his approaching marriage with

Hermengarde, promising that he would, after its solemnization, suspend

three silver lamps as a votive offering in their honor from the dome of

the Cathedral of Cologne. He pronounced this vow at the moment that the

procession crossed the nave to replace the shrine in the body of the

church. Seats for the Empress and other Court ladies had been erected

on either side; and Rechberg, who did not understand the Latin prayers

chanted by the clergy, desired to contemplate the brilliant spectacle

presented by the Imperial suite. He thought that he had sufficiently

honored the relics by his devotions. He remembered the vaunted beauty

of the Countess Richenza of Champagne, and he gazed curiously around.

The benches on the right were occupied exclusively by Beatrice and her

ladies of honor; the Countess must necessarily be on the other side, to

which his back was turned. He might by a slight movement change his

position, but he feared lest his action might appear rude. After a

moment's hesitation, however, he stepped forward so that his face was

concealed by the main altar, and then, certain that he had not been

remarked, he turned round unaffectedly. His curiosity was immediately

gratified. In the first row, at a few paces only from him, knelt the

daughter of the Count of Champagne. Her veil was thrown back, and a

cloud of fair hair fell in rich masses upon her neck. Her eyes were

fixed upon the shrine, and her lips moved as though in prayer.

Rechberg was bewildered with admiration. Hellig had exaggerated

nothing, for Richenza was wonderfully beautiful. Suddenly her eyes were

raised toward the young man, who hastily turned away.

In the interval, the ceremony had been completed. The shrine had three

doors, like a large church. They were open, and through a golden

lattice-work could be seen the venerated relics. An immense number of

tapers were burning in candlesticks of silver; several priests were

watching carefully around the shrine, and monks were seated before the

doors to receive the books and engravings and pictures which the piety

of the crowd presented as votive offerings to the holy remains.

Eberhard of Salzburg could not let escape this excellent opportunity of

proclaiming his religious sentiments. He stood upright on the summit of

the altar-steps, immediately in front of the ostensorium, ready to

bless the princes and the people. But, before bestowing the

benediction, and much to the discomfiture of the Emperor and the

confusion of Rinaldo, he pronounced a few words of earnest exhortation,

counselling obedience to the authority of Alexander III.

"Our gracious Emperor and lord," he said, "whose duty it is to defend

the Church, will root out the venom of heresy. It is due to his own

renown, to the name which he inherits from his Carlovingian ancestors,

to the glory which he has won, to rise in aid of the Holy See, and to

show to all the scoffers, that he is the obedient son of the Pope, the

protector of the Church, of law, and of morals. It is on these

conditions that I bless our noble sovereign; I bless all those

illustrious prelates and knights who obey Pope Alexander,--I bless all

the world of faithful Catholics."

He was about to take the ostensorium, when Barbarossa made a sign. It

was impossible that the discourse of the Archbishop before so brilliant

an assembly could be allowed to pass unnoticed.

"Your Reverence has profited by this opportunity," he said, "to remind

us of the duties of our position. These duties are onerous, indeed, now

that error has possessed the minds of many of our fellow-men. We

espouse the cause of no faction; we only defend right and justice. Our

predecessors, acting in this by the advice of high ecclesiastical

dignitaries, deposed all those, whatever their position, who profited

by it to the injury of souls and the prejudice of the Holy Church. Our

duty is the same, and we are resolved to discharge it. Whenever the

Plenary Council, which is about to assemble, shall have proclaimed who

is the lawful Pope, we will defend him against all his enemies and

opposers whatsoever. May the present schism soon be destroyed forever,

and may peace be restored to God's Holy Church."

Frederic had spoken energetically, and with a loud voice. The words

rang through the cathedral as though they were a profession of faith

made in the presence of the world. Rinaldo smiled faintly, and the

crowd shouted, "What a pious Sovereign! What a God-fearing Emperor! May

God protect and defend him!"

After the benediction, Rechberg left the cathedral, in the Emperor's

train. All at once he felt a touch upon his arm, and, turning, saw the

stranger of the park of Rivoli, dressed in the rich costume of the

Italian nobility. On the former occasion the moonlight had enabled him

to catch merely a glimpse of his person, but he at once recognized him

by his strongly marked features and his long beard. Upon a sign from

the Unknown, Erwin followed him.

"I promised," he said, as soon as they had entered a by-street, "to

meet you in Pavia. Let us then at once resume our previous

conversation. But let me first ask you one question: Is your fidelity

to the lady of Castellamare not yet shaken?"

"If I had not confidence in your loyalty," replied Erwin, "I should

regard the question as an insult."

"Take care, young man; you do not yet know the inconstancy of the human

heart."

"Thanks for your advice; but, in pity, tell me, what motives prompt

your interference?"

"What I told you at Rivoli should be proof enough that I am informed on

all Court secrets. This infamous Rinaldo has arranged everything.--He

has shown you the Countess of Champagne; you admired her; you will

speak to her to-day;--the rest will come of itself, naturally."

Rechberg was astonished. Hellig was nothing but a tool of the

Chancellor. He understood now the reasons for Dassel's extravagant

praise of the French envoy.

"I must acknowledge," he said, "that you are extremely well informed;

and I need no other proof to give credence to what you advance. But if

this Rinaldo fancies that he can make me unfaithful to my oath, he is

grievously mistaken."

"Still, he wishes to bring about a marriage between you and the

Countess of Champagne."

Rechberg blushed indignantly.

"How!" he said; "does Dassel believe me faithless, base, and without

honor?"

"Dassel believes everything possible, because he himself is capable of

everything. Don't be surprised at anything in that man, whom they

rightly call _ruina mundi_; I only wonder that Barbarossa has not a

better opinion of his relative."

"Eh! what? the Emperor too thinks so meanly of me?"

"No, Count; the Emperor does not think meanly of you; he wishes to use

you for his own purposes, that is all. Rinaldo has shown to him the

advantages of a union between you and Richenza. Frederic's own marriage

gave Burgundy to the Empire; a similar proceeding would unite

Champagne. Believe me, the plan is by no means a bad one. For a cousin

of Frederic to become Count of Troyes and Champagne would be a great

step forward in the march to universal dominion. But, as I have already

said, the question is, Are you strong enough to resist?"

"Well! if the heiress to the throne of France were to offer me her

hand, I would refuse it!"

"Richenza returns to her home, and you will be her escort," continued

the stranger.

"I?"

"Barbarossa will give you the order himself."

"Very well; if he does, I shall decline the honor."

"You cannot."

"Do you advise me to accompany the Countess?"

"I do."

"But you have yourself reminded me of the inconstancy of the human

heart."

"He who is on his guard has nothing to fear."

"I will not put myself in a false position."

"But when I will have informed you that Hermengarde's journey----"

"Do you know where she is living?" asked Erwin.

"No; but your cousin owns property in that part of the country. It is

there a fearful, mortal struggle against Alexander will take place;

there, the bishops of England, Germany, and France will assemble, at

Barbarossa's request, to restore peace to the Church: it is there, that

Louis will meet Frederic; it is also in that direction that the Count

of Champagne and his daughter are going."

"So that, without doubt, I will be near Hermengarde?"

"If you refuse to yield to Barbarossa's wishes, he will send you back

to Germany."

"It is very probable. Well, be it so; I will accept the mission."

"In that case, my dear Count, I must ask you to do me a service," said

the stranger.

"Speak! you have a claim to my gratitude."

"Suppose that a lady of high rank should wish to travel under your

protection?"

"You only require me to fulfil one of the duties of chivalry. Where

shall I meet this lady?"

"She and her suite will join you a few miles from here. The roads are

so insecure that your escort will be extremely valuable; but, like all

unfortunates, she requests to be left as much as possible alone."

"I understand; but, before separating, can I not learn the name of him

who seems to take so warm an interest in my welfare?"

"My name?" said the _stranger_, irresolutely. "Call me Antonio; the

name is an humble one, but a thousand noble ancestors of immortal fame

are not sufficient to make their descendant a man of honor."

They parted, and Erwin entered the palace, where he met Hellig.

"Ah!" said he to himself, "here comes the traitor, Dassel's tool."

"Count, I am directed to lead you to the Emperor."

Rechberg went to the Imperial chamber, and was informed by Barbarossa

that he had chosen him to accompany the French Count to his home.

"Let all be in readiness," he said, "for to-morrow's journey."

_CHAPTER XXXIV_.

_THE DIVORCED DUCHESS_.

Count Henry's journey was long and tedious. He halted in every locality

which seemed to offer any attraction, and even remained nearly three

weeks at Chanbery. But these delays were prompted by political reasons,

and many couriers came and went between the Count and the Courts of

Germany and France. He also visited several of the principal towns of

Italy, and his frequent interviews with the Pisan and Genoese envoys

presaged the conclusion of an offensive and defensive alliance between

these maritime republics and France and the Emperor. Although the Count

regretted this forced seclusion of his daughter, the fair Richenza

scarcely seemed to regret her monotonous existence. On the contrary,

accustomed to excite universal admiration in the gay and brilliant

French Court, the ceremonious politeness of the young German noble

amused her. It was in vain that, to further her father's projects, she

treated him with marked distinction; he remained always the same,

perfectly courteous, but cold and reserved. At last the young Countess

got piqued, but Erwin cared little for this; he had been warned by the

Unknown of the Emperor's designs, and he was on his guard. Still, this

constant struggle between duty and temptation rendered his position a

painful one, and he regretted a hundred times his acceptance of the

mission in which he was now engaged.

One day, in the midst of a profound revery, he heard a light rap at the

door of his apartment.

"Come in!" he cried.

A veiled woman entered, but although she remained covered, Rechberg

recognized her as one of the attendants of the unknown lady whom

Antonio had intrusted to his care. Our hero was ignorant of her rank

and position, for he had never seen her face; and she always remained

in her tent, or else was so deeply veiled that he could neither

distinguish her features nor even the sound of her voice. He often rode

by her side, less through curiosity than as a chivalrous duty; still it

was impossible to penetrate the mystery which enveloped her, and one

thing alone was evident, that she was the victim of some crushing

misfortune.

Now at last, the lady had sent to request his visit, and Rechberg

followed the messenger through many tortuous streets to a house which

seemed chosen with an especial view to retirement and melancholy, and

it was not without emotion that Erwin entered the apartment, where,

surrounded by her attendants, the lady was reclining upon a divan. Upon

his entrance, she rose and advanced a step to reply to his courteous

bow, and then motioned him to a seat. There was a long silence, during

which Erwin looked attentively at the lady, whose stature and dignified

deportment announced to be of high position.

"Count," she said, in a calm, sweet voice, "first let me thank you for

the kind protection which you have given to a very wretched woman.

Pardon me, if I have been compelled, by circumstances, to conceal my

name and character; but I still need your aid, and I trust that, though

unknown, I may count upon it."

"I have merely discharged the duties imposed by the laws of chivalry,"

replied Erwin; "I am always ready to serve you."

"Thank you, my lord. You probably know that His Holiness the Pope

Alexander III. has taken refuge in France, and is at present in a

monastery on the frontiers of the Empire, not for from Laon. It is

there, near to the Father of the faithful, the support of the afflicted

and the unhappy, that I am now going."

She paused for a reply, and it seemed to Erwin that her voice was

familiar, and that he had already heard it at the Court.

"I now learn," she resumed, "that the Holy Father, through fear for his

personal safety on account of the alliance between France and the

Emperor, intends to go to England. Should he do so, I shall lose this

opportunity of laying my sorrows at the feet of the Vicar of Jesus

Christ. To be so near the only person who can aid me in my misfortunes,

and yet not see him, will be an additional trial. You, Count, can

relieve my unhappiness by consenting to accompany me to Laon."

"What do you ask me to do?" said Erwin. "I cannot leave the Count of

Champagne, without violating all the rules of courtesy and incurring my

sovereign's displeasure; but I will do all in my power to persuade him

to hasten his journey."

"Your efforts will be vain. The Count of Champagne is merely a

statesman who is influenced by reasons of political expediency, but not

by pity for the sufferings of a stranger."

"Still I will try."

"You will lose your time; but, perhaps, when you see my face, you will

consent to do what you have refused to a mere unknown."

She raised her veil;--Clemence, Duchess of Saxony, pale and dejected,

stood before him, the living image of grief.

"Great God!" he cried, "can it be you, noble lady? You, the most

powerful princess of the Empire, here, unprotected, without the retinue

which belongs of right to the Duchess of Saxony and Bavaria!"

"Calm yourself," she answered. "What are rank and dignities? I am

nothing now but a poor, divorced wife, who implores your aid and pity."

"It is true then? That infamous deed, of which they spoke so

cautiously, has really been consummated?" cried Erwin, indignantly.

"Duke of Saxony, they call thee 'the Lion,' but thou art only a lion in

cruelty! Henry, thou art an unnatural husband, a prince without honor,

the disgrace of knighthood!"

Rechberg's eyes flashed, and his hand sought his sword-hilt, as though

he would chastise the crime.

"Restrain yourself, do not blame him," said Clemence. "The fault is

entirely theirs who have led him astray, and estranged his heart from

the sentiments of duty."

"Not at all, noble Duchess; your excuses only render him more guilty.

But tell me how such iniquity could be perpetrated under the very eyes

of the Emperor? Why this visit to the Pope? Is not our sovereign the

guardian of our rights? Why did you not appeal to him?"

"I have done so, but in vain! Frederic pities my fate, but he neither

can, nor will defend my rights."

"You say that he cannot?"

"Those were his own words. The marriage is invalidated by our

consanguinity; he is not competent to decide in matters of divorce."

"As if it were not the duty of the Emperor to prevent or punish every

act of injustice! You are related to your husband, and the discovery

has only just been made!--This is still more extraordinary."

"The discovery is entirely due to the hatred of the Chancellor Rinaldo.

Oh! how happily we lived together until that evil man came across our

path!--Then, my husband was great and noble, a lion in war, but a lamb

at home, a loving and attentive father, a tender and affectionate

husband!--And now, O my God!"

And her tears, impatient of all restraint, burst forth in torrents.

"Calm yourself, madam! believe me, such a deed cannot be lawfully

recognized. Were there any formal proceedings? Has any sentence been

pronounced?"

"The Emperor presided at his tribunal, and the Pope decreed the

divorce! It was in vain I tried to defend my cause; I begged on my

knees for mercy; all was useless.--At last, moved by my tears and

entreaties, Victor confessed that our consanguinity was not

established, and that he had annulled the marriage by the express

command of His Majesty, and against his own convictions."

"Alas!"

"Consanguinity," said he, "is a mere pretext; State reasons of the

highest importance have compelled the Emperor to this course."

"Heavens! is it thus that justice is administered? Madam, your tale has

changed my intentions. Since the Emperor cannot protect your rights, I

will accompany you to the Holy Father. Make your arrangements, noble

lady, we will start immediately."

Gero met his master at the door, and received orders to prepare

everything for their departure. Erwin then went to his apartment,

where, with many a bitter invective against Barbarossa's conduct, he

began to put on his armor.

"And yet, I cannot go!" he said to himself, as he left his chamber.

"How annoying! What ought I to do? A true knight owes as much respect

to courtesy as to his other duties."

He laid down his lance, and went to call on Richenza. The young

Countess had just finished her toilette, as he entered, and was

exquisitely dressed in white.

"Deign to excuse my early visit, noble lady," said the Count; "I was

unable to defer it. Reasons of grave importance oblige me to leave your

party immediately; I have come, according to custom and courtesy, to

crave your permission."

"Unless you will tell me the reasons, I cannot grant your request. Sit

down, dear Count, and explain yourself. I will see if there is no means

of making you change your intentions."

He was forced to obey, and he took his seat with an embarrassment which

did not escape the young girl's notice.

"I am less able to accede to your demand, dear Count, because it is

contrary to all our arrangements. The Emperor has chosen for my escort

the best lances of German chivalry, so that you cannot, without

disrespect to His Majesty, leave me before the end of my journey."

"It is true, noble lady, that it is an honor for me to escort you; but

there are some circumstances in which one duty must yield to another,

whose claims are still more imperative."

"Circumstances! May I ask you again for some explanations?"

"It is on account of an unfortunate lady, who up to the present moment

has travelled under my protection."

"I scarcely expected, Count, that this mysterious person would play

such a trick as this, and carry you away from us. Believe me, I am

seriously interested in her troubles, on account of the influence she

appears to exercise over you. You say that she is to be pitied; what is

the cause of her sorrow?"

"The most terrible which can possibly afflict a wife. I cannot say

more."

"Has she been married?"

"Yes; and she has always been amiable, faithful, but now is most

unfortunate."

Richenza breathed more easily. She had no cause for uneasiness; Erwin

was still free.

"The interest you take in this misfortune is very praiseworthy," she

said.

"Grant me leave, noble lady; this unhappy woman's only hope is in Pope

Alexander's sympathy and protection; I ought to accompany her to his

court, and I must go without delay."

"Pope Alexander should be in the Imperial camp at Laon; are we not

going in that direction?" asked Richenza.

"I believe so; but we travel so slowly."

"You have not then heard that my father has been hastily summoned to

Laon? Your visit prevented me from putting on my riding-dress. Listen!

everything is ready, and the escort is already mounted."

They went to the window, and saw the knights and squires issuing from

their tents, and drawing up in line, upon the square in front of the

palace.

_CHAPTER XXXV_.

_LAON_.

From this day forward, the French Ambassador hurried his journey as

much as he had hitherto delayed it. The necessary rest was scarcely

allowed to the horses, and they travelled night and day as if under the

pressure of some political interest of weighty moment.

A grave and careworn expression had succeeded the usually gay and

jovial air of the French Count; he spoke rarely, and only in answer to

his daughter's questions. Although much fatigued, Richenza still

assured her father that she was strong enough to go on; but, from time

to time, she looked at the German noble, as if to say,--

"I bear all the annoyances of our journey, rather than be separated

from you."

As they neared the French frontier, Erwin met several noblemen of his

acquaintance; for Barbarossa had summoned all the spiritual and

temporal princes to meet him at Laon. A great number had already

arrived, and were encamped along the banks of the Saone.

Soon the towers of Laon, where Louis VII. held his court, began to

stand out in bold relief upon the distant horizon. Crowds of horsemen

and foot-passengers were pressing towards the city, and the road became

more animated as they approached the gates. Numerous huts lined the

causeway, offering refreshments at a moderate price; and citizens and

soldiers were carousing gayly, under the trees.

Near the drawbridge, in a position to see all who passed, were seated,

around a jug of wine, our three old acquaintances, Antonio, Pietro

Nigri, and Cocco Griffi.

Pietro seemed much changed. His country's ruin had broken down his

proud spirit, and he showed, in his features, the grief he so keenly

felt. As to Cocco, he was always the same, and his attentions to the

banquet made up for his companions' neglect.

"I came from Dole yesterday," said Pietro; "all the houses are filled

with knights, and you can see nothing anywhere but couriers and

soldiers. King Louis will find out one of these days where Barbarossa

will take him. If he does not intend to support the Emperor's tyranny,

and become his vassal, these German savages will occupy the frontiers,

and ravage the French territory with fire and sword, until Louis sues

for mercy."

"You are a profound statesman, Pietro," said Antonio, with a laugh; "we

are not there yet, and we will not be soon. I grant you that Barbarossa

will do his best to frighten the king; but he will think twice before

he attacks the allied powers of France and England."

"France and England, allied powers!" exclaimed Pietro. "I thought that

the two kings had quarrelled?"

"Ask Pope Alexander if he agrees with you.

"I only know this much, that Alexander has hitherto taken great pains

to bring about a reconciliation. But I also know, as every one else

does, that Louis has threatened to give the Pope up to Barbarossa!"--

"Louis' threats are not serious," said Antonio. "He must yield to

circumstances."

"Circumstances! To my thinking, they are not very favorable!"

"One must not tell all one knows," said Antonio, shrewdly.

"So much the better, if you know all the State secrets; as for me, I

expect nothing good from the future. If France ever becomes a vassal of

the Emperor, it is all over with the liberty of Italy."

"Come, friend Pietro, do not worry over these things. Think rather of

the business which has brought you to France. Do you know what has

become of Hermengarde? How did she receive you?"

"Very kindly; but she informed me of her betrothal."

"Count Erwin is certainly a good match; still, the affair may yet fall

through.--Eh! what do I see? There he is!--Richenza is with him.--Look

at the young Countess."

The brilliant retinue of the Count of Champagne was advancing through

the midst of a crowd of admiring spectators. Richenza rode, at the head

of the escort, between Rechberg and her father. Pietro glared at the

young Count, with a muttered curse. Antonio turned his back, and only

resumed his place when the clatter of the horses' hoofs had died away

in the distance.

"Malediction on all whom the tyrant protects!" said Pietro, sullenly.

"Shame on me, not to have killed him!" and he drank deeply.

"It is a good lesson, friend Pietro! you must profit by your chances,

in future."

"I swear to revenge myself!" cried Nigri, scowling with hatred. "Let me

only meet him in the plain, or elsewhere, and he will soon make the

acquaintance of my sword."

"It would be much more simple to break off his marriage," sneered

Antonio.

"Can you do that?" asked Pietro, eagerly. "Antonio, my life, my fortune

are yours, if you can accomplish this!--But, alas! it is impossible!"

"And why so? I have my own plan, and I wish him to marry Richenza."

"Explain yourself, dear Antonio!"

"I will see Hermengarde, and tell her of the widely-spread reports of

her betrothed's marriage with the beautiful and wealthy Countess of

Champagne."

"Will she believe you?"

"And why not? I already see the effect which my revelation will produce

on Hermengarde!"

"Excellently imagined, Antonio."

"We need skill and cunning. The only difficulty will be to procure, in

proper time, the necessary proofs. But the Count of Champagne has his

castle in the neighborhood of the city.--Hermengarde is not far

distant.--Leave it to me."

During this conversation, Count Henry and his retinue moved towards the

city. He had already dispatched a nobleman to the royal chancellor,

Bishop Manases of Orleans. On leaving the north gate, they came at once

in sight of the castle, which was built upon an eminence overlooking

the park which surrounded the hill.

The unhappy Duchess of Saxony gratefully accepted the Count's

invitation to remain in his castle during her stay at Laon. It was

there she retired with her protector, the only person who knew her

secret, until he could accompany her to the papal court; for Alexander

had not yet arrived at the town, but was residing in the celebrated

Abbey of Cluny.

As soon as he reached his apartment, the lord of the castle hastened to

change his costume. He was very uneasy, for the good understanding,

reported to exist, between Alexander and king Louis, threatened to

destroy the hopes held out to him by Rinaldo of increasing his

possessions. Naturally he wished to be positively certain of the fact

before presenting himself to his sovereign. No one could furnish more

correct data than the Bishop Manases, who, equally desirous of seeing

the Count, hastened to the castle, accompanied by only two servants.

Scarcely had Henry of Champagne perceived the horsemen, when he

descended to the court-yard, and embracing the prelate with great

cordiality, led him to his cabinet for a private interview.

Manases, by the laxity of his conduct in ecclesiastical matters, had

incurred the Pope's displeasure. Alexander did not deceive himself as

to the possible consequences of his reprimands. He knew that the Bishop

would endeavor to destroy the amiable relations existing between him

and the feeble King of France; but the illustrious Pontiff had too

exalted a regard for what he considered his duty, to allow himself to

be influenced by any worldly considerations.

The exterior of the Bishop of Orleans was at once a mixture of the

ecclesiastic and the man of the world. All his movements were stamped

with a certain affected grace which was not at all natural to him. His

dress was in no way different from that of other courtiers of rank, and

the episcopal ring alone indicated his position. The cut of his hair,

which he wore long and flowing in perfumed curls, did not conform to

the canons, which enjoined that this luxury should be left entirely to

the laity. His delicate moustache was turned up at the ends, whilst the

chin and cheeks were closely shaved. A casual examination indicated

that the prelate was inclined to the pleasures of the table.

"You have acted wisely," said Manases, as soon as his host had related

to him the result of his interview with Frederic; "you have acted

wisely in disguising the principal point of your mission; above all,

you have done well in not stating that yon were disposed to secede,

with your domains, to the Emperor, in case Louis refused to ratify the

contract."

"What does it matter! the contract is signed, attested, and must be

observed," answered the Count. "Our King's gallantry cannot be used as

a pretext to injure me. But how is it that Louis has so suddenly

changed his intentions and become reconciled with Alexander?"

"I can scarcely explain it to myself. The Pope invited him to a

conference, which, in spite of my remonstrances, took place at

Montpeleier. It hardly lasted a half-hour, but it was sufficient to

gain over the king. It seems as though he has enlightened him on the

subject of Frederic's ambition; at least since then, Louis often speaks

uneasily of the Emperor's warlike preparations and his hostile

intentions towards France."

"Nothing is more apparent than Frederic's pretensions to universal

empire," replied the Count, carelessly; "but what matters it? Great men

have indisputable rights to take the lead of weaker princes."

"I see, my dear Count, that you have not lost your time at the Imperial

Court," said the Archbishop, ironically; "still you will do well not to

parade the result of your mediations at the Court of France. Few of the

crown vassals would understand you."

"I will follow your advice. But I must avow that Frederic's views in

all that concerns the Papacy do not seem right and proper. It is not so

much Alexander's person that he hates, as the pontifical chair. It is

not very Christian, and is very dangerous for the other States."

"You go too far, Count: Frederic hates only Alexander. He only wishes

to humble the proud and inflexible prelate Roland, and we must aid him

in the work. Yes," added Manases, passionately, "this pious man has the

most absurd ideas about bishops. He would like to turn them into monks

and hermits, and shut them up in a cloister, that he may the more

easily rule them. He has already published a bull about the length of

the hair; soon, I suppose, he will give directions about the prelates'

houses, their retinues, and their style of dress."

"Ah! I begin to understand: Alexander is too severe with the jovial

prelates," said the Count, with a smile.

"Yes," replied Manases, "and he will punish also the noble lords and

counts who profit by every opportunity to get an award of some fragment

of Church property! But enough on this subject.--As we have already

agreed, the King must know nothing more than he knows already. Above

all, conceal your personal arrangements with Barbarossa; that of itself

would suffice to enrage him."

"Must he then not be informed of the determination which has been taken

to bring Alexander before the Council, whether he will or not?"

"That must depend on circumstances. Let me act first; I will give

you notice in due time. I will go to work at once. Come to the Court

to-morrow."

"Why not to-day?" the Count asked.

"Because I must first prepare the King's mind. But be perfectly easy;

you are wearied by this long journey and need rest.--Louis, you know,

is very sympathetic in all bodily ailments."

"Very well, we understand each other perfectly. Farewell."

The Count accompanied the Chancellor to the courtyard, where the latter

mounted his horse and rode over to meet the King.

_CHAPTER XXXVI_.

_KNAVERY_.

At sunrise, Antonio was prowling about the vicinity of the Count of

Champagne's castle. He passed the park-gates, and, cautious as a fox in

search of his prey, concealed himself behind a clump of bushes near the

court-yard, whence he could perceive what was going on in the building.

"Rechberg likes early walks," he said to himself. "I shall not have

long to wait. If he only knew that Bonello's daughter is at an hour's

distance from here, nothing could prevent him going to her at once.

But as this interview would upset all my calculations, I must be

prudent.--Good, there he is at last, with his head down, as if he were

counting the pebbles on the road.--He is coming towards me as though I

had called him!--Oh! your servant, my lord Count."

"Ah! is that you, Antonio? I imagined you were still in Pavia."

"It is my duty to be wherever the master of the world is."

"I do not understand your meaning."

"You have not heard then that Barbarossa, with all his troops, entered

Dole yesterday?"

"Indeed!"

"Your looks and your surprise rather indicate that you do not desire to

join him there."

"I wish, Antonio, that it were possible to avoid this interview.--My

troubles will begin--"

"I bring news of your betrothed.--I regret extremely that they are not

more agreeable ones.--But who could imagine her capable of such a

thing?--I would have suspected myself sooner."

"What do you mean to say?"

"You will need all your courage, but I must tell you the truth."

"Explain yourself!"

"Yesterday I met Pietro, who was once betrothed to Hermengarde."

"I beg your pardon, sir; Pietro never was her betrothed."

"Well, at any rate, he is now."

"Villain!" said Erwin, growing pale, and grasping his sword-hilt.

"Is this your idea of gratitude, my lord? Through interest for you, I

communicate something of importance, and by way of thanks you seize

your sword!--Farewell, Count!"

"Stop a moment!--Ah! what is this you tell me? Pardon my violence, but

my heart is broken."

"Pietro himself has assured me that Hermengarde regrets her engagement

to one who is related to the tyrant, the scourge of her country, the

persecutor of the Church."

Rechberg was thunderstruck; he was unable to speak.

"Compose yourself, Count, and be a man! Perhaps Pietro has

exaggerated."

"Oh! if I could only know the truth."

"I have some business to attend to, to-morrow, at La Fleche.

Hermengarde is there, and I will announce to her your arrival at Laon.

From her manner of receiving the news, her looks and actions, I can

judge whether Pietro's assertions are true or false."

"Thanks, dear Antonio; I shall be greatly indebted to you for the

service."

"Make yourself perfectly easy on this point, and trust to me."

"Where shall I hear from you?"

"Here; do not leave the castle until I see you again."

"The time will seem very long. Farewell."

Antonio hurriedly crossed the park in the direction of Laon. Pietro was

waiting for him at the gate.

"Well, Antonio, what have you done?" he asked.

"He believed everything I told him.--He is so guileless. To-morrow you

and I must go to La Fleche.--He sends me to see his betrothed."

"We will not speak of his arrival!"

"I shall simply state that Rechberg and the French Countess have come

here together, and that report says they are to be married soon, as the

Emperor urges the alliance, and Rechberg himself makes little

opposition."

"She will never believe you."

"Perhaps not, at first; but she will begin to doubt, and I know how to

change doubts into certainty."

"In what way?"

"You shall know in due time. Now you had better leave me, for we are

near the palace-yard; but do not forget to-morrow at daybreak."

Antonio entered the court-yard, where he met the Count of Champagne on

his way to see the Bishop, who was awaiting him in the King's

antechamber.

"I have had a hard battle to fight, Count," said the prelate. "His

Majesty is very uneasy about Barbarossa's military organizations. I

warn you to be prepared for everything."

The Count seemed unconcerned.

"I have not acted without proper authority," he said; "your own letter

gave me full powers."

"Certainly! shield yourself behind the instructions received from me;

it will induce Louis to reflect on the past. Perhaps he is already

ashamed of his conduct."

At this moment the King entered. The courtiers were interrupted, for

Manases had still much to tell the Count; but there was nothing to be

done but to wait for a more favorable opportunity. Henry advanced

towards his sovereign and then knelt and kissed his hand respectfully.

The French prince, though naturally kind and generous, often allowed

himself to be led away by evil counsellors. His frivolous and

vacillating character made him the tool of parties who profited by

their influence, to allure him to the commission of bad actions. But as

soon as his spirit had regained its wonted calm, he at once rejected

the advice and the decisions which had been suggested to him. This

explains the continued series of weaknesses which marked his reign. His

conduct towards Alexander III. was an exact reflex of his character,

and at one time he was for, at another against him. A powerful faction

had sprung up since His Holiness had declared the necessity of

resisting the encroachments of the clergy, and of defending the Church

against the disloyal nobility. At the head of this faction was Queen

Adele, the sister of the Count of Champagne, and a relative of the

Antipope Victor, and every means was employed to picture to the king,

in the most gloomy colors, the dangers which his kindness towards

Alexander might entail upon the French monarchy. A strong argument was

the inevitable peril of a war with Germany, and the prospect of an

alliance between Frederic and Henry of England, the sworn enemy of

France.

Louis understood the position, but the Pope was there, and he could not

make up his mind to leave the Head of the Church without protection, or

to give him up to his enemy Barbarossa.

On the other hand, Alexander's friends, comprising, with few

exceptions, all the Episcopacy of France, were opposed to Frederic's

plans, and proved to Louis that the Emperor only sought to humble the

Pope, and to subjugate all the other sovereigns. The king was

sufficiently clear-sighted to understand the truth of the statement,

but he made a grave mistake in supposing that he could deceive his

rival by diplomatic negotiations. The German troops, encamped on the

very borders of France, revealed unmistakably the intentions of their

leader, which greatly disturbed and annoyed the King; and as soon as

the formalities of the reception were finished, his discontent became

manifest.

"What is the meaning of this?" said he to the Count of Champagne; "what

contract is this you have made with the Emperor? Who gave you

unrestricted powers in this matter?"

"Your Majesty himself, by directing me, through your Chancellor, to

conclude a treaty of alliance. Deign to assure yourself of the truth of

my assertion, by examining this document."

"We regret our Chancellor's precipitation," replied the King, after a

cursory glance at the letter. "He should not have countenanced, so

hastily, an alliance hostile to the Holy Father."

"Allow me to remind your Majesty of what happened," said Manases. "When

Alexander, by his gross discourtesy, so gravely insulted the royal

envoys, and when, in consequence, it was determined to break off all

intercourse with him, I could not foresee that your generosity would so

soon forget the outrage. My instructions to the Count contain nothing

more nor less than the expression of your own will."

"You know perfectly well how to excuse yourself, my lord Bishop; the

fault is entirely our own.--Let it be so! but this fault, the result of

an unfortunate misunderstanding, must have no further consequences!"

Manases bowed deprecatingly before his sovereign's displeasure, but an

attentive spectator might have noticed the courtier's suppressed anger.

"But, Sire!" remarked the astonished Count of Champagne, "this treaty

in no way affects your own royal prerogatives."

"Indeed!" said the King; "we are then free? We are not tied down to

anything?"

"You are merely pledged to a personal interview with the Emperor, and

to make Alexander be present."

"What is that you say?" cried the King, furiously. "Force Alexander to

be present at an assembly which is to condemn him?--And I am to aid in

this!--Is that in the treaty?"

"Yes, Sire," answered Henry.

"No! by all the saints, it shall not be!" exclaimed the monarch, with

increased passion. "Shame on you, Count, for signing an agreement which

dishonors us! The Head of the Church has sought refuge within our

territory, and we are to act against him so disloyally?--We are to use

violence to force him before a tribunal composed of the Emperor's

creatures! No! by Saint Denis! we would sooner lose our crown and our

life!"

The courtier waited until the storm had passed, and when the King had

become more calm, he said,--

"Allow me, Sire; you make a grave mistake in this interpretation of the

treaty. There is nothing said about violence. You are merely to use

your influence to persuade Alexander to be present at the plenary

council. If he be innocent, if he be the lawful Pope, he will be

charmed with this opportunity of asserting his rights."

"Very good!--You have exceeded your powers, and the treaty is invalid.

Alexander can do what he pleases; and we, whatever appears to us to be

just and proper. Are we then nothing but the Emperor's vassals? Have we

no longer liberty to act in accordance with our own ideas?"

"I repeat that the treaty in no way interferes with your supremacy,"

replied the Count of Champagne; "but what was I to do? The Emperor was

on the point of concluding an alliance with England against you; ought

I to have permitted such a contract to be signed?"

The King made no answer to this crafty observation of his courtier; but

it was not without its effect, for it was the fear of this very

alliance between Frederic and the English monarch, which had made him,

in the first instance, open the negotiations.

"And how is Barbarossa preparing for our alliance?" asked Louis, who

was seeking a new pretext for his ill-humor. "Is he not on our very

frontiers, at the head of a powerful army? Is not that, of itself, a

threat?"

As if in answer to the question, a loud flourish of trumpets rang out

in the palace-yard.

"What is that?" said the King.

He approached the window. A troop of knights had halted before the

palace, and a chamberlain came up to announce the arrival of Frederic's

envoys.

_CHAPTER XXXVII_.

_THE SPY_.

The Chancellor Rinaldo and the Count Palatine Otho de Wittelsbach were

at the head of the embassy which had been sent by Frederic to

congratulate the French King. Whilst their retinue dispersed through

the town, the marshal of the palace introduced the two German nobles

into the royal apartments.

The reception-hall took up the entire length of the palace, and

resembled a market-house, rather than a room, for the accommodation of

persons of distinction. The bare walls were destitute of hangings, and

ornamented only with trophies of arms, among which was a collection

dating back to the time of the Franks. The sunlight dimly penetrated

through the narrow loopholes; the ground was coarsely floored, and

stone benches along the walls were the only furniture. The Count

Palatine examined, with some curiosity, the armor, and particularly an

ancient shield, which, it was said, had once be longed to Charlemagne.

Rinaldo placed himself in the recess of a window where he could

converse freely with the Count of Champagne. At last Louis appeared; he

was richly dressed and followed by a numerous retinue of French nobles,

among whom could be remarked his brother Henry, Archbishop of Rheims

and primate of France,--a prelate of great distinction and a devoted

adherent of Alexander III.

The monarch proceeded to the upper end of the hall, where he mounted a

throne of carved oak, whose only value consisted in having once been

used by the Emperor Charlemagne.

While the Count Palatine boldly approached the King, Rinaldo advanced

with a profound obeisance, (his eye eagerly scanning the faces of the

royal suite,) and remarked with uneasiness the presence of the

venerable prelate. Louis acknowledged the Chancellor's obsequious

homage by a simple wave of his hand, but his face wore a look of stern

determination, which gradually gave way to one of attentive curiosity,

as the Count of Champagne named the different persons composing the

embassy.

Dassel noticed the surprise with which the King looked at him, and was

flattered by it, while the Count Palatine Otho, cased in armor from

head to foot, stared with utter unconcern at the monarch and his court.

Dassel at once brought into play all his crafty diplomatic science, and

met the cold expression and indifferent manner of the sovereign with a

coldness and indifference, if possible, more strongly marked. After a

brief compliment, he broached the subject of the treaty.

"We bear to your Majesty," he said, "the friendship and best wishes of

our sovereign lord and master, the Emperor. Your Majesty is aware of

the grave concern which the important affair of the election of a Pope

has caused him; and he is rejoiced at being able to come to some

understanding with you, by which the schism may be arrested before it

can spread itself through all Christendom. From all that can be learned

up to the present moment, the only means of securing the peace of the

world is by the assembling of a general council. The princes of Europe

will be present, together with all the bishops of the Empire; and it is

hoped that your Majesty will call to it the French prelates. The two

Popes should appear, and each present his respective claims for the

consideration of the solemn conclave. The wisdom of the council can

then definitely settle the question. The Emperor trusts that you are as

anxious as himself to give peace to the Church, and that you will aid

him to the utmost of your ability."

"We thank the Emperor for his kind wishes," replied the King, "and our

desires are the same, but we do not agree upon the means to be used.

The right to assemble a plenary council does not belong to temporal

princes, but to the Pope alone. We will never allow ourself to

encroach upon the privileges of the Head of the Church; the French

prelates are very strict in their observance of the canonical rules,

and would scarcely notice our invitation. Besides, the ecclesiastical

statutes forbid any layman, even though he be a sovereign prince, to

have a vote in a plenary council. The bishops only can take part in

their proceedings and deliberations."

"Allow me to observe," answered Dassel, "that the Roman Emperor is the

born protector of the Church, and has always had the right of convoking

a plenary council; consequently, Frederic's pretensions are not

original with him. His intention is, by no means, to take part in the

deliberations, but simply to be present as a spectator. Besides, my

mission now is only to congratulate your Majesty, and inquire when and

where an interview can take place with the Emperor."

This request was embarrassing; Louis scarcely ventured to refuse, and

yet he dreaded the results of the meeting.

"Certainly, my lord Chancellor," he said, "we ardently desire an

interview with your noble sovereign in order to renew our ancient

friendship; but we fear lest it be interpreted in a manner entirely

opposed to our present intentions."

"And in what might this erroneous interpretation consist?" asked

Dassel, in his most submissive tone.

"I might be supposed to agree with the Emperor in his intention to

depose Pope Alexander."

"But I scarcely think that judgment would be a false one," replied the

Chancellor, smiling.

"What! you think, my lord, that we are capable of such an impious

crime?" exclaimed Louis, who was astonished at Rinaldo's assurance.

"To keep one's solemn promise is not a crime, but a duty."

"Yes, when our envoys have not exceeded their powers," replied Louis,

quickly. "The Count of Champagne had no authority whatever to pledge

himself for us to take part against the Head of the Church."

The blood rushed to the Count of Champagne's face, and his lips moved

convulsively, but he said nothing.

"Your Majesty is pledged only to a personal interview with the Emperor.

The non-fulfilment of this promise would be a grave outrage. If you

refuse, the Emperor will keep his engagements, and come in person with

all his retinue."

This threat produced a marked effect upon the French nobles. The King

hesitated a moment, but before he could reply, the Duke of Burgundy

exclaimed,--

"If this be a menace, my lord Chancellor, you may tell your master that

we will receive him and his followers as they deserve!"

"Let us have no violence, my dear Duke," said Louis. "We have already

told you that we are ready to accept the Emperor's invitation, and have

never had any intention of insulting him. Let him appoint the place and

time for our meeting; we will be there."

If this were a trick to gain time, Dassel was prepared for it, and

answered immediately,--

"Since your Majesty leaves everything to the Emperor's discretion,

Frederic will expect you at the bridge over the Saone, on the 29th of

this month."

Louis had no further excuse, and the Count of Dassel having terminated

his mission, left the city after partaking of a banquet. The King's

indecision, or rather his unexpected determination, amazed the Imperial

faction. The Count of Champagne went to his sister's apartments, while

Bishop Manases paced the room in great agitation.

"Cluny reconciled to Alexander!" he exclaimed; "the primate at the

Court and Louis more undecided than ever! All that is wanting to assure

our defeat, is an arrangement between the King and Henry of England. If

Alexander succeed, there will be nothing for us to do, but bow down and

submit to severe ecclesiastical penances. There is no time to lose. I

must act at once, and see that the news of the divorce of Henry the

Lion reaches the Pope's ear;--this repudiated princess must be sent to

Cluny. Alexander will be exasperated, and our nobles will learn what is

to be feared from the Pope's severity. The spirit of opposition once

aroused, court hatred will do the rest. Send my spy to me immediately!"

he cried, opening the door.

The order had scarcely been given, when Antonio appeared.

"I have not yet had time to reward your services. For the present, take

this;" and the Bishop handed Antonio a purse, which the latter put in

his pocket, with a smile.

"Thank you, my lord; can my limited intelligence be again useful to

your policy?"

"We shall see, Antonio; you promised to bring about Richenza's marriage

with this cousin of the Emperor, and so far I can see very slight

progress in the affair, although it appears that the young man is still

an inmate of her father's castle. If Louis were even to suspect this

project, it would be all over with the Count of Champagne, for the

alliance is inimical to the interests of France."

"I confess, my lord, that so far I have been unsuccessful. But it is

not my fault. The Count of Champagne himself----"

"You do not understand me; the Count desires to remain neutral; it is

your business to arrange it. Rechberg is already betrothed, you tell

me, and his future wife is in the neighborhood.--Come, Antonio, you

should be able by some clever piece of rascality, to destroy all their

projects; I trust that you will succeed."

Manases paused, and then after making a few steps in the room,

resumed,--

"The Duchess Clemence is secretly staying at the castle."

"Yes."

"She must go to Cluny to-morrow; you will accompany her."

The order disconcerted Antonio, who had proposed visiting Hermengarde

on the ensuing day, in company with Pietro.

"I am ready to obey you, my lord," he replied, after a moment's

reflection.

"When you are at Cluny," continued Manases, "keep your ears and eyes

open; let nothing escape you. Watch, above all, the prelates who

reside there, and see upon what terms Henry and Alexander appear to be.

Mingle with the servants of the house, for you must know every nook and

corner in it, and the vassals will suspect nothing."

"You will be satisfied with me, my lord."

"But, take care, the Italian roads are infested with banditti, and

Clemence cannot travel without an escort."

"You need have no apprehension on that score; the best sword in Germany

will accompany her."

"Who will it be?"

"Erwin of Rechberg."

"Very good; he will then leave the castle. But are you sure of him?"

"Perfectly. Rechberg is a valiant knight: if it be necessary, I will

tell him her name, and that will be sufficient for him to consider it a

duty not to leave her until she is at her journey's end."

"Antonio, be active, faithful, and discreet, and you will lose nothing.

Now go; invent some pretext to hasten your departure."

Antonio found the Duchess ready, but Erwin was not to be found; he had

gone, early in the morning, to the Imperial camp, and thither the spy

went to look for him.

_CHAPTER XXXVIII_.

_THE QUEEN OF FRANCE_.

The Count of Champagne had secured the cooperation of a more powerful

ally than the Bishop of Orleans. His sister Adele, as we have already

stated, was Queen of France. The indecent haste with which this

marriage had been consummated--within a fortnight after the death of

Queen Constance--joined to the general absence of affection that he had

shown for his deceased wife, had excited the indignation of the people

against the King, while the new alliance had created for him many new

enemies, not the least formidable of whom was the King of England.

Adele exercised an immense influence over her husband. She was a

relative of the Antipope Victor, whose cause she warmly espoused, and,

consequently, did all in her power to further an alliance between Louis

and Barbarossa. Pope Alexander, on the contrary, was odious to her, on

account of his opposition to her marriage, and his threats of

excommunication. After a long interview with her brother, she repaired

to the King's apartments. Louis was seated in a high-backed chair, his

head resting upon his hands, his eyes cast down, and his whole face

bearing an expression of anger and uneasiness.

"Adele," said the monarch, perceiving his young wife, "since Alexander

is in France, I have not had an hour of repose."

This remark (a propos to the very subject which interested the Queen

most) gave Adele the opportunity of exerting her influence for her

relatives, and to gratify her revenge towards Alexander; and she

said,--

"You have the power, Sire, to send the cause of your uneasiness out of

France."

"The wish certainly, but not the power."

"Are you then no longer master in your own kingdom?"

"Circumstances are stronger than my will. I cannot show myself hostile

to Alexander, without alienating from me the majority of the prelates.

Besides, he is our guest, and the supreme chief of Christendom."

"You cannot be forced to observe the laws of hospitality towards one

who has brought trouble under your roof."

"Oh, my dear!" said the King; "we are scarcely at that point yet."

"I know it; but matters are still in a very unfortunate position," said

Adele, with an expression of discouragement. "If the support which you

give to Alexander satisfies the prelates, it displeases the great

vassals of the crown."--This observation was just.

"The Emperor at the head of a powerful army, is already on our

frontiers; Henry of England is mustering his troops in the North. Who,

except your vassals, can extricate France from her peril? Can Alexander

help you in any way against the dangers which you incur on his

account?"

"Honor and duty enjoin on our vassals to answer our summons; do you

think they would hesitate to obey?" said Louis.

"The situation is perhaps more critical than you imagine, Sire. If you

destroy the contract made with the Emperor, if you protect Alexander,

Barbarossa will cross the frontier at once. All will desert your cause,

even my brother."

She hid her face in her hands, and wept bitterly.

"What is that you say, Adele?" exclaimed the King. "Is it, as we hope,

merely anxiety which makes you speak thus, or have you really any

knowledge of such treachery?"

"My dear husband, be prepared for the worst! Yes, the Count Henry of

Champagne and Troyes, the most powerful of your vassals, has promised

to go over to the Emperor, if you violate a single article of the

treaty which he signed."

"What do you say, madam?" cried Louis, angrily.

"He confessed it to me secretly. In spite of my prayers and my tears,

he has sworn to keep his oath."

"Ah! the villain, the caitiff!" he cried, pacing the room. "By Saint

Denis! we will arrest and imprison the traitor."

"It is too late, dear husband. The Count has left the Court."

"What! has the wretch retired to his castle?"

The last question was dictated less by anger than by anxiety.

"No; he has gone to the Court of the Emperor."

"Doubtless to receive there the price of his perfidy! Oh, the villain!"

"He has even intimated," continued Adele, who was endeavoring to alarm

the King,--"that other vassals of the crown were inclined to follow his

example. 'We prefer,' said he to me, 'to bear allegiance to a free and

independent Emperor, than to obey a vassal of the Pope."

"Where do I stand?" cried Louis, sadly, and giving way to all the

indecision of his character; "rebellion against the throne, rebellion

against the Church, surrounded by traitors in my own palace!"

"The danger is near and threatening. But you have the power to ward off

the blow," said Adele.

"I have the power: I? Has not your brother already left the Court? will

not the other traitors follow him? Will they not, perhaps to-morrow,

rise in rebellion against their sovereign? Oh! I perceive their

treasonable plan; it is skilfully organized."

"You exaggerate, Sire," hastily added the wily princess. "It is

possible that my brother may return to-morrow. In that case, you will

do well to dissemble your anger.--He must not suppose that you suspect

his hostile designs."

"My dearest friends, my own family rebel against me!" said Louis, with

emotion. "I see in it the finger of God. For years past, I have

trampled underfoot the commandments of the holy Church,--the wrath of

Heaven is let loose against me!"

"Do not despair," resumed Adele; "seek rather to avoid the storm; but

lose no time, for events are urgent. Only observe the treaty which he

has signed in your name, and my brother will be faithful to you,

against all the world."

"But I have agreed to the interview, and yet the traitor has gone!"

"You refused to influence Alexander to appear before the council."

"Am I the Pope's sovereign? Is it my place to give orders to the Head

of the Church?"

"You can invite him, you can act on him by friendly representations; in

a word, you can fulfil the letter of the treaty without in any way

violating your conscientious scruples."

Adele easily reassured her husband. The Archbishop Peter of Tarantasia,

a well-known prelate, whose reputation for sanctity extended beyond the

frontiers of France, was at that moment present at the Court, and it

was determined to select him as the most suitable person to influence

the Pope.

He was at once summoned to the royal presence, and soon afterwards made

his appearance. The calmness of the noble old man was in striking

contrast with Louis' emotion, and his whole person the most severe

rebuke to the prelates of the Court. The Archbishop wore a cassock of

coarse cloth, without embroidery, fastened at the waist with a belt.

His bald head had merely a crown of curly white hair, and his long

beard falling upon his breast gave him a venerable mien. Extreme age

and the practice of austerity, had bent his body, but his eyes still

glowed with a divine light, and his face was a happy mingling of

sweetness and Christian charity.

"Welcome, holy prelate!" cried Louis, advancing hastily to meet him.