possible to this side of the river. No man is to be allowed ashore until
you reach the capital. Captain, are there provisions enough aboard for
the voyage?"
"Yes, your honor."
"Very well. Put every available person at the oars, and get past
Furstenberg before daybreak. My men, who have not had an opportunity to
distinguish themselves as warriors, will take their turn at the sweeps.
You and Ebearhard," he continued, turning to Greusel, "will employ the
time in counting the money and making a fair division. With regard to
the two barrels, the captain will receive my third share, and also be
one of us in the apportionment of the gold we secured to-night. It was
through his thoughtfulness that the barrels were saved. Whatever portion
you find me entitled to, place in the keeping of the merchant, Herr
Goebel. And now I shall tie four bags to my belt for emergencies."
"Are you not coming with us, Roland?" asked Greusel anxiously.
"No. Urgent business requires my presence in the neighborhood of Bonn,
but I shall meet you in the Kaiser cellar before a month is out."
Saying this, he shook hands with the captain and Greusel, and descended
into the small boat, bidding farewell to Ebearhard.
"Urge them," were his last words, "to get well out of sight of Pfalz and
Furstenberg before the day breaks, and as for the small boats, turn them
loose; present them as a peace-offering to the Rhine."
In the darkness Prince Roland allowed his frail barque to float down the
stream, using his paddle merely to keep it toward the east, so to avoid
the chain. He found himself accompanied by a silent, spectral fleet; the
empty boats that his men had sent adrift. To all appearance the little
squadron lay motionless, while the dim Castle of Pfalz, with its score
of pointed turrets piercing a less dark sky, seemed like a great ship
moving slowly up the Rhine. When it had disappeared to the south, Roland
ventured to speak, in a low voice.
"Madam," he said, "tell your women so to arrange what extra apparel you
have brought to form a couch, where you may recline, and sleep for the
rest of the night."
"Captain Roland," she replied, her gentle little laugh floating with so
musical a cadence athwart the waters that he found himself regretting
such a sweet voice should be kept from the world by the unappreciative
walls of a convent,--"Captain Roland, I was never more awake than I am
at this moment. Life has somehow become unexpectedly interesting. I
experience the deliciously guilty feeling of belonging to a stealthy
society of banditti. Do not, I beg of you, deprive me of that pleasure
by asking me to sleep."
"In the morning, Madam, there will be little opportunity for rest. We
must put all the distance we can between ourselves and the Pfalzgraf
von Stahleck. I expect you to ride far and fast to-morrow."
"Do you intend, then, to abandon this boat?"
"I must, Madam. The river has been long so empty that this flotilla,
which I cannot shake off, being unaccustomed to oars or paddle, will
attract attention from both sides of the Rhine, and when the darkness
lifts we are almost certain to be stopped. The boats will be recognized
as belonging to the Pfalzgraf, and I wish to sever all connection
between this night's work and my own future."
"What, then, do you propose?"
"As soon as day breaks we will come to land, and allow our boat to float
away with the rest. Can you walk?"
"I love walking," cried the girl with enthusiasm. "I ask your pity for
myself, immured in that windowless dungeon, situated on a tiny point of
rock; I, who have roamed the hills and explored the valleys of my own
land on foot, breathing the air of freedom with delight. Let me,
therefore, I beg of you, remain awake that I may taste the pleasure of
anticipation in my thoughts; or is such a wish disobedience on the part
of your first lieutenant? I do not mean it so, and will quietly cry
myself to sleep if you insist."
"Indeed, Hilda," said Roland, laughing, and abandoning the more formal
title of "madam," "I am no such tyrant as you suppose. Besides, your
office of first lieutenant has lapsed, because our men have all gone
south, while we travel north."
"Then may I talk with you?"
"Nothing would please me better. I was thinking of your own welfare, and
not of my desire, when I counseled slumber."
"Oh, I assure you I slept very well during the first part of the night,
for, there being nothing else to do, I went to bed early, and was quite
unconscious until the dreadful ringing of that alarm bell, which set the
whole Castle astir."
"Why were you imprisoned?"
"Because--because," she replied haltingly, "I had chosen the religious
life, the which my guardian opposed. He appeared to think that some
experience of the rigors of the convent might make me less eager to
immure myself in a nunnery, which, like Pfalz Castle, is also on a
restricted island."
"Then his remedy has proved unavailing?"
"Quite. The Sisters will be very good to me, for I shall enrich their
convent with my wealth. 'Twill be vastly different from incarceration in
Pfalz."
"Hilda, I doubt that. Captivity is captivity, under whatever name you
term it. I cannot understand why one who spoke so enthusiastically just
now of hills and valleys and liberty should take the irrevocable step
which you propose; a step that will rob you forever of those joys."
The girl remained silent, and he went on, speaking earnestly:
"I think in one respect you are like myself. You love the murmur of the
trees, and the song of the running stream."
"I do, I do," she whispered, as if to herself.
"The air that blows around the mountain-top inspires you, and you cannot
view the hills on the horizon without wishing to explore them, and learn
what is on the other side."
There was light enough for him to see that the girl's head sank into her
open hand.
"You, I take it, have never been restricted by discipline."
Her head came up quickly.
"You think that because of what I said in the courtyard?"
"No; my mind was running towards the future rather than to the past. The
rigor of strict rules would prove as irksome to you as would a cage to a
free bird of the forest."
"I fear you are in the right," she said with a sigh; and then,
impatiently, "Oh, you do not understand the situation, and I cannot
explain! The convent is merely a retreat for me; the lesser of two evils
presented."
"You spoke of your land. Where is that land?"
"Do you know Schloss Sayn?" she asked.
"Sayn? Sayn?" he repeated. "Where have I heard that name before, and
recently too? I thought I knew every castle on the Rhine, but I do not
remember Sayn."
The girl laughed.
"You will find no fellow-craftsman there, Pirate Roland, if ever you
visit it. The Schloss is not on the Rhine, and, perhaps on that account,
rather than because of its owner's honesty, is free from the taint you
suggest. It stands high in the valley of the Saynbach, more than half a
league from this river."
"Ah, that accounts for my ignorance. I never saw Sayn Castle, although I
seem to have heard of it. Are you its owner?"
"Yes; I told you I was wealthy."
"Where is the Schloss situated?"
"Below Coblentz, on the eastern side of the river."
"Then why not let me take you there instead of to the convent?"
"Willingly, if you had brought your barge-load of armed men, but in Sayn
Castle I am helpless, commanding a peaceful retinue of servants who,
although devoted to me, are useless when it comes to defense."
"I cannot account for it," said Roland in meditative tone, "but the
thought of that convent becomes more and more distasteful. You will be
free of your guardian, no doubt, but you merely exchange one whom you
know for another whom you don't, and that other a member of your own
sex."
"Do you disparage my sex, then?"
"No; but I cannot imagine any man being discourteous to you. Surely
every gentleman with a sword by his side should spring at once to your
defense."
The girl laughed.
"Ah, Captain Roland, you are very young, and, I fear, inexperienced,
despite your filibustering. However, this lovely, still, summer night,
with its warm, velvety darkness, was made for pleasant thoughts. Enough
about myself. Let me hear something of you. Did you come up the river or
down, with your barge?"
"We came down."
"How long since you adopted a career of crime? You do not seem to be a
hardened villain."
"Believe me," protested Roland earnestly, "I am not, and I do not admit
that my career is one of crime."
"Indeed," said the girl, laughing again, "I am not so gullible as you
think. I could almost fancy that you were the incendiary of Furstenberg
Castle."
"What!" exclaimed Roland in consternation. "How came you to learn of its
destruction?"
"There!" cried the girl gleefully, "you have all but confessed. You are
as startled as if I had said: 'I arrest you in the name of the
Emperor!'"
"Who told you that Furstenberg Castle was burned?" demanded the young
man sternly.
"Yesterday morning there came swiftly down the river, with no less than
twelve oarsmen, a long, thin boat, traveling like the wind. It did not
pause at Pfalz, but the man standing in the stern hailed the Castle, and
shouted to the Pfalzgraf that Furstenberg had been burned by the outlaws
of the Hunsruck. He was on his way to Bonn to inform the Archbishop of
Cologne, and he carried also Imperial news for his Lordship: tidings
that the Emperor is dead."
"Dead!" breathed Roland in horror, scarcely above his breath. "The
Emperor dead! I wonder if that can be true."
"Little matter whether it is true or no," said the girl indifferently.
"He doubtless passed away in a drunken sleep, and I am told his drunken
son will be elected in his place."
"Madam!" said Roland harshly, awakened from his stupor by her words, "I
must inform your ignorance that the Emperor's son is not a drunkard,
and, indeed, scarcely touches wine at all, being a most strenuous
opposer to its misuse. How can one so fair, and, as I believed, so
honest, repeat such unfounded slander?"
"Are you a partisan of his?"
"I come from Frankfort; have seen the Prince, and know I speak the
truth."
"Ah, well," replied the girl lightly, "you and I will not quarrel over
his Highness. I accept your amendment, and will never more bear false
witness against him. After all, it makes slight difference one way or
the other. An Emperor goes, and an Emperor is elected in his place as
powerless as his predecessor. 'Tis the Archbishops who rule."
"You seem well versed in politics, Madam."
The girl leaned forward to him.
"Do not 'madam' me, I beg of you, Roland. I dare say rumor has
prejudiced me against the young man, but I have promised not to speak
slightingly of him again. I wish this veil of darkness was lifted, that
I might see your face, to note the effect of anger. Do you know, I am
disappointed in you, Roland? You spoke in such level tones in the
courtyard that I thought anger was foreign to your nature."
"I am not angry," said Roland gruffly, "but I detest malicious gossip."
"Oh, so do I, so do I! I spoke thoughtlessly. I will kneel to the new
Emperor and beg his pardon, if you insist."
Roland remained silent, and for a time they floated thus down the river,
she trailing her fingers in the water, which made a pleasant ripple
against them, looking up at him now and then. Perceptibly the darkness
was thinning. One seemed to smell morning in the air. A bird piped
dreamily in the forest at intervals, as if only half-awakened. The two
women reclining in the prow were sound asleep.
Roland picked up the paddle, and with a strong, sweeping stroke turned
the head of the boat towards the land. Now she could see his lowering
brow, and if the sight pleased her, 'twas not manifested in her next
remark.
She took her hand from the water, drew herself up proudly, and said:
"I shall not apologize to you again, and I hate your blameless Prince!"
"Madam, I ask for no apology, and whether you hate or like the Prince
matters nothing to me, or, I dare say, to him, either."
"Cannot you even allow a woman her privilege of the last word?" she
cried indignantly.
Roland's brow cleared, and a smile came to his lips, as he remained
silent, thus bestowing upon her the prerogative she seemed to crave.
Hilda lay back in the prow of the boat between her sleeping women, with
hands clasped behind her head, and her eyes closed. More and more the
light increased, and sturdily with his paddle Roland propelled the boat
towards the shore, bringing it alongside the low bank at last. He sprang
out on the turf, and with the paddle in one hand held the boat to land
with the other.
"We are now," he said, "a short distance above St. Goarhausen, where I
hope to purchase horses. Will you kindly disembark?"
The girl, without moving, or opening her eyes, said quietly:
"Please throw the paddle into the boat again. I shall make for
Nonnenwerth in this craft, which is more comfortable than a saddle."
The paddle came rattling down upon the bottom of the skiff. Roland
stooped, and before she knew what he was about, took Hilda in his arms,
lifted her ashore, and laid her carefully on the grass.
"Come," he cried to the newly-awakened serving-women, "tumble out of
that without further delay," and they obeyed him in haste.
He stepped into the skiff, flung their belongings on the sward, turned
the prow to the west, and, leaping ashore, bestowed a kick upon the boat
that impelled it like an arrow far out into the stream.
Hilda was standing on her feet now, speechless with indignation.
"Come along," urged Roland cheerfully, "breakfast awaits us when we earn
it;" but seeing that she made no move, the frown furrowed his brow
again.
"Madam," he said, "I tell you frankly that to be thwarted by petulance
annoys me. It happens that time is of the utmost importance until we are
much farther from Pfalz. If you think that the ownership of wealth and a
castle gives you the right to flout a plain, ordinary man, you take a
mistaken view of things. I care nothing for your castle, or for your
wealth. You may be a lady of title for aught I know, but even that does
not impress me. We must not stand here like two quarrelsome children. I
will conduct you to the Adler Inn at St. Goarhausen, where I know from
experience you will be taken care of. I shall then purchase four horses,
and return to the inn after you have breakfasted. Three of these horses
are at your disposal, also the fourth and myself, if you will condescend
to make use of us. If not, I shall ask you to accept what money you need
for your journey, so that you may travel north unmolested, while I take
my way in the other direction."
"How can I repay the money," she demanded, "if I do not know who and
what you are?"
"I shall send for it, either to your Castle of Sayn, or the Convent of
Nonnenwerth. You need be under no obligation to me."
"But," cried the girl with a sob, "I am already under obligation to you;
an obligation which I cannot repay."
"Oh yes, you can."
"How?"
"By coming with me, who will persuade you, as readily as you did with
your guardian, who coerced you."
"I am an ungrateful simpleton," she murmured. "Of course your way is the
right one, and I am quite helpless if you desert me."
"There," cried Roland, with enthusiasm, "you have more than repaid
whatever you may owe."
After breakfasting at St. Goarhausen and purchasing the horses, they
journeyed down the rough road that extended along the right bank of the
Rhine. Roland and Hilda rode side by side, the other two following some
distance to the rear. The young man maintained a gloomy silence, and the
girl, misapprehending his thoughts, remained silent also, with downcast
eyes, seeing nothing of the beautiful scenery they were passing. Every
now and then Roland cast a sidelong glance at her, and his melancholy
deepened as he remembered how heedlessly he had pledged his word to the
three Archbishops regarding his marriage.
"I see," she said at last, "that I have offended you more seriously than
I feared."
"No, no," he assured her. "There is a burden that I cannot cast from my
mind."
"May I know what it is?"
"I dare not tell you, Hilda. I have been a fool. I am in the position of
a man who must break his oath and live dishonored, or keep it, and
remain for ever unhappy. Which would you do were you in my place?"
"Once given, I should keep my oath," she replied promptly, "unless those
who accepted it would release me."
Roland shook his head.
"They will not release me," he said dolefully.
Again they rode together in silence, content to be near each other,
despite the young man's alternations of elation and despair. 'Twas, all
in all, a long summer's day of sweet unhappiness for each.
One of Roland's reasons for choosing the right bank of the Rhine was to
avoid the important city of Coblentz, with its inevitable questioning,
and it was late afternoon when they saw this town on the farther shore,
passing it without hindrance.
"You will rest this night," she said, "in my Castle of Sayn, and then,
as time is pressing, to-morrow you must return. We have met no
interference even by this dangerous route, and I shall make my way alone
without fear to Nonnenwerth, for I know you are anxious to be in
Frankfort once more."
"I swear to you, Hilda, that if, without breaking my oath, I should
never see Frankfort again, I would be the most joyous of men."
"Does your oath relate to Frankfort?"
"My oath relates to a woman," he said shortly.
"Ah," she breathed, "then you must keep it," and so they fell into
silence and unhappiness again.
She had talked of security on the road they traversed, but turning a
corner north of Vallandar they speedily found that a Rhine road is never
safe.
Both reined in their horses as if moved by the same impulse, but to
retreat now would simply draw pursuit upon them. Mounted on a splendid
white charger, gorgeous with trappings, glittering with silver and gold,
rode a dignified man in the outdoor habit of a general in times of
peace.
Following him came an escort of twoscore horsemen; they in the full
panoply of war; and behind them, on foot, in procession extending like a
gigantic snake down the Rhine road, an army of at least three thousand
men, the setting sun flashing fire from the points of their spears. Here
and there, down the line, floated above them silken flags, and Roland
recognized the device on the foremost one.
"God!" he shouted in dismay. "The Archbishop of Cologne!"
The girl uttered a little frightened cry, and edged her horse nearer to
that of her escort.
"My guardian! My guardian!" she breathed. "I shall be rearrested!"
Seeing them standing as if stricken to stone, two horsemen detached
themselves from the cavalry and galloped forward.
"Make way there, you fools!" cried the leader. "Get ye to the side; into
the river; where you like; out of the path of my Lord the Archbishop."
Nevertheless Roland stood his ground, and dared even to frown at the
officers of his Lordship.
"Stand aside _you_," he commanded in a tone of mastery, "and do not
venture to intrude between the Archbishop and me."
The rider knew that no man who valued his head would dare use such
language in the very presence of the Archbishop, unless he were the
highest in the land. His dignified Lordship looked up to see the cause
of this interruption, and of these angry words.
First came into his face an expression of amazement, then a smile melted
the stern lips as he looked on Roland and recognized him. The impetuous
horsemen faded away to the background. There was no answering smile on
Roland's face. He reached out and clasped the hand of the girl.
"Now, by the Three Kings!" he whispered, "I shall break my oath."
Hilda glanced up at him, frightened by his vehemence, wincing under his
iron grasp.
An unexpected sound interrupted the tension. The Archbishop had come to
a stand, and "Halt! Halt! Halt!" rang out the word along the line of
men, whose feet ceased to stir the dust of the road. The unexpected
sound was that of hearty laughter from the dignified and mighty Prince
of the Church.
"Forgive me, your Highness!" he cried, "but I laugh to think of the
countenances of my somber brothers, Treves and Mayence, when they learn
how sturdily you have kept your word with them. By the true Cross,
Prince Roland, although we wished you to marry her, we had no thought
that you would break into the Castle of Pfalz to win her hand. Ah, dear,
what a pity 'tis we grow old! The impetuousness of youth outweighs the
calculated wisdom of the three greatest prelates outside Rome. Judging
by your fair face (and I have always held it to be beautiful, remember),
you, Hildegunde Lauretta Priscilla Agnes, Countess of Sayn, are not
moving northward to Nonnenwerth. I always insisted that the Saalhof at
Frankfort was a more cheerful edifice than any nunnery on the Rhine, yet
you never turned upon me such a glance of confidence as I see you bestow
on your future Emperor."
"I hope, my Lord and Guardian," cried the girl, "that I have met you in
time to deflect your course to my Castle of Sayn."
"Sweet Countess, I thank you for the invitation. My men can go on to
their camp in the stronghold of my brother of Mayence, Schloss
Martinsburg, and I shall gladly return with you to the hospitable hearth
of Sayn. Indeed," said the Archbishop, lowering his voice, "I shall feel
safer there than in enjoying the hospitality I had intended to accept."
"Are you not surprised to meet me?" asked the lady, with a laugh,
adjusting words and manner to the new situation, which she more quickly
comprehended than did her companion, who glanced with bewilderment from
Countess to prelate, and back again.
The Archbishop waved his hand.
"Nothing you could do would surprise me, since your interview with the
Court of Archbishops. I am on my way to Frankfort." Then, more
seriously, to Prince Roland: "You heard of your father's death?"
"I learned it only this morning, my Lord. I shall return to Frankfort
when I am assured that this gentlewoman is in a place of safety."
"Ah, Countess, there will be no lack of safety now! But will you not
ease an old man's conscience by admitting he was in the right?"
The Countess looked up at Roland with a smile.
"Yes, dear Guardian," she said. "You were in the right."
XVII
"FOR THE EMPRESS, AND NOT FOR THE EMPIRE"
While the long line of troops stood at salute in single file, the
Archbishop turned his horse to the north and rode past his regiments,
followed by the Countess and Roland. His Lordship was accompanied to the
end of the ranks by his general, who received final instructions
regarding the march.
"You will encamp for the night not at Schloss Martinsburg, as I had
intended, but a league or two up the Lahn. To-morrow morning continue
your march along the Lahn as far as Limburg, and there await my arrival.
We will enter Frankfort by the north gate instead of from the west."
The Archbishop sat on his horse for some minutes, watching the departing
force, then called Roland to his right hand, and Hildegunde to his left,
and thus the three set out on the short journey to Sayn.
"Your Highness," began the Archbishop, "I find myself in a position of
some embarrassment. I think explanations are due to me from you both.
Here I ride between two escaped prisoners, and I travel away from,
instead of towards, their respective dungeons. My plain duty, on
encountering you, was to place you in custody of a sufficient guard,
marching you separately the one to Pfalz and the other to Ehrenfels.
Having accomplished this I should report the case to my two colleagues,
yet here am I actually compounding a misdemeanor, and assisting
prisoners to escape."
"My Lord," spoke up Roland, "I am quite satisfied that my own
imprisonment has been illegal, therefore I make no apology for
circumventing it. Before entering upon any explanation, I ask
enlightenment regarding the detention of my lady of Sayn. Am I right in
surmising that she, like myself, was placed under arrest by the three
Archbishops?"
"Yes, your Highness."
"On what charge?"
"High treason."
"Against whom?"
There was a pause, during which the Archbishop did not reply.
"I need not have asked such a question," resumed the Prince, "for high
treason can relate only to the monarch. In what measure has her ladyship
encroached upon the prerogative of the Emperor?"
"Your Highness forgets that there is such a thing as treason against the
State."