THE COUNTESS AND THE EMPEROR.
One morning word came hurriedly to the Count that there was a commotion
near Alken, an attack being feared. Heinrich ascended to the battlements
without haste and without enthusiasm. If an assault came he would repel
it if he could, but he had little heart in the prospect of a fight, and
as little hope of ultimate success. He had welcomed the departure of
Rodolph and his two companions, largely because their going left three
mouths less to feed, but he had such small faith in Rodolph's proffer of
rescue that all thought of the young man had already gone from his mind.
Reaching the battlements, he saw on the plain to the south of the
village evidence of something unusual in progress. Bugles were blowing,
and men from the tents and the lines were hurriedly concentrating at a
point where they seemed called upon to oppose some unexpected force. A
man on horseback was listening to the protests of an officer of the
Archbishop, who gesticulated violently, and apparently all answer the
horseman made was to point to the flag which waved above him. What the
flag was that lazily floated above its staff, Heinrich could not make
out, but presently the horseman gave a signal to one of his buglers, and
a trumpet call rang along the valley, and was echoed mockingly from the
rocks opposite Alken. In a short space of time there came out from the
shelter of the village, along the river street, soldiers marching four
abreast, one line following another so closely that they seemed to tread
on each other's heels, quartette after quartette, as if the village
were some huge reservoir of men, and was belching them forth in such
numbers that there was little wonder the Archbishop's officers stood
helpless before this display of military power. At last the movement
stopped, and the soldiers were halted four deep, standing at ease with
their formidable array of lances bristling above them. Again the mounted
man seemed to prefer his request or command, and this time heed was
given it. The Archbishop's troops parted, leaving an open space, and
through this came, not the soldiers who had the moment before exhibited
their numbers, but laden animals with attendants, led by the officer on
horseback. The procession came up the zig-zag path that ended at the
castle gates, and every man of Thuron's garrison, who now clustered on
the walls, raised a simultaneous cheer. They recognised the move as a
break in the Archbishop's cordon, and vociferously acclaimed that help
and food were coming to them.
Count Heinrich, however, was no optimist. His naturally suspicious mind
caused him to imagine that here was merely another trick of his enemy of
Treves, and he stood silent and grim, with arms folded across his
breast, watching distrustfully the ascending cavalcade; and thus he
remained until the trumpeter summoned the gate.
The mounted officer rode boldly forward as if he feared no rebuff.
"Count Heinrich of Thuron," he cried to the motionless figure that stood
like a lowering statue on the platform above the gate. "I greet you in
the name of his Majesty, the Emperor, and am commanded by him to deliver
to you food and wine, which I bring with me. I await your orders
regarding their bestowal within your castle."
"How am I to know that you come from the Emperor, his Majesty being at
this moment in Palestine."
"The Emperor Rodolph has returned, my Lord, and is now at the head of
his army, gathered on the plain to the east of Thuron. His troops have
surrounded the camp of the Archbishops, and it is his Majesty's will
that this siege be immediately raised. My orders were to force a passage
through to your gates if resistance were offered, but that was not
necessary, as the Archbishops' officers made way for us when they found
themselves confronted by overwhelming opposition; besides, they lacked
orders from the Archbishops, who are now themselves besieged and cannot
communicate with their captains."
A fierce fire lit up the eyes of the Black Count, and he glanced over
his shoulder in the direction of the Archbishops' camp to see if there
were any sign of the environment of which the imperial messenger spoke.
A low murmur, not unlike a growl, broke from his own men, impatient at
the delay. The animal was hungry and scented its food.
"Open the gates," cried Heinrich, and the growl changed into a cheer
again. The Count knew that if this were a trap he had no option but to
fall into it, for they could not hold out longer. The gates were thrown
open and relief entered.
Willing hands speedily unpacked the hampers. Many of the meats were
already prepared for the table, well cooked and temptingly garnished. It
required all the terror of the Count's eye to prevent his men from
rushing forward and helping themselves. The master of Thuron appreciated
the tension and saw that this was no time for delay or the display of
undue authority. "Make the parapets your table," he shouted, "and the
battlements your dining hall. You shall feast in sight of the
Archbishops, if they care to look on. Fall to, and wait no ceremony."
Never was even Count Heinrich's command obeyed more promptly. The
Emperor had been thoughtful and had sent a staff of cooks, with the
material for their manipulation, and this was the more welcome when
Count Heinrich heard, with something like consternation, that it was the
Emperor's intention to visit Castle Thuron that day and dine with its
master. This was an honour for which Count Heinrich felt himself in no
way prepared, nor was it a distinction which he coveted. He paced the
large room gloomily when the envoy had left him, pondering over his
predicament, for he was not accustomed to the etiquette of courts, and
had little practice in the bending of the knee. Upon his dilemma there
suddenly intruded the radiant presence of his niece, aglow with
excitement. He glared moodily at her approach.
"Is it true," she cried, "that the Emperor is to visit us?"
"I fear so," growled the Count.
"Fear so, Uncle? I am ashamed of you. How can you say you fear, when the
moment he returned from the East he came to your rescue, no doubt as
soon as my Lord Rodolph acquainted him with your position."
"It is not likely Lord Rodolph had anything to do with it. I have heard
nothing of Lord Rodolph."
"Nevertheless, you will soon hear of him, and he it was who caused this
quick rescue to be brought about. Rodolph will come to the castle by the
side of the Emperor, and I will not have him ashamed of us."
"It matters not to me what Lord Rodolph thinks; if he has indeed had a
hand in this, I wish him well for it."
"But the Emperor is coming! The Emperor is coming. Everything else gives
way to that. We shall see him and speak with him, and he shall know that
here are his most loyal subjects assembled. We must receive him
royally."
"What can we do? He comes--well, let him come. He has sent his dinner
and the cooks to prepare it, so in God's name we will allow him to eat
it, since it belongs to him, but what further can we do? I can say
good-day to him, but if you expect me to bow and kneel and scrape to
him, by the Holy Coat, I will leave the castle first."
"You shall do nothing of the kind. You shall put under my orders every
man you have; there is work enough for them all to do. Hilda, come
here."
Hilda, who had been standing at the door, came forward.
"Hilda, throw open the ghost room and tell a dozen of the men to carry
down bales of cloth: the crimson silk to this room, the purple and blue
and scarlet webs to the courtyard."
"What?" roared the Black Count. "What do you know of those bales?"
"Everything, my Lord Uncle. I have rummaged all corners of the room and
am thoroughly conversant with what it contains. And, Hilda, tell them to
bring here the crimson silk first and I will show them how to festoon
it."
"You are mad," cried her uncle, wrathfully, but standing before her
uncertain what to do.
"Yes, with joy. I am to see the Emperor, and my Lord Rodolph, for I know
they come in company. And now, what can I do with you? Your armour
should be scoured, and--no, you are hopeless. I cannot festoon you with
red silk, my Uncle, so I shall not attempt to improve you. You look like
a great bear, and such indeed you are, but the Emperor, who is a fighter
himself, will esteem valour in whatever shape it presents itself. He may
have seen rougher men in the East, although I doubt it. Now go and tell
your garrison that I have taken charge of the castle until the Emperor
arrives, and wear just such a scowl as is now on your face when you
order them to obey me."
The helpless man laughed scornfully, but nevertheless made no objection,
feeling that he had reached a situation which was beyond him, and that
possibly his confident niece would retrieve the honour of his house.
In a marvellously short time, under Tekla's crisp direction, the
appearance of the castle was completely changed, and old Thuron would
not have known itself, so bravely was it decked with silk and bunting,
to the great depletion of his Lordship's stores. The Black Count made no
attempt to smarten himself and thus follow the example of his castle,
but wandered impatiently about, accoutred as he was and always had
been, not knowing what to do with himself, manifestly ill at ease,
alternately frowning and grimacing at the preparations and decorating
going on around him. Once there arose a cry that the Emperor was in
sight, and Tekla, in despair, wrung her hands that he came so soon, but
it was a false alarm, and Heinrich, going to the battlements, saw with a
savage joy that the cause of the commotion was the striking of the tents
belonging to the Archbishop's army. The two years' siege was at last
raised. The Black Count lifted his clenched fist towards the unoffending
sky and hoarsely cursed the departing legion.
From her fear that his Majesty would come too soon, the Countess began
to apprehend that he would not come at all. The improvised carpet had
been laid between the castle doorway and the gates; broad red cloth
flanked by two webs of blue. Purple was looped over the archway, and
gaudy streamers floated from the walls.
At last the detachment which had marched through the village began to
ascend the slope, and soon from castle gate to river bank they lined
each side of the way, forming an avenue of erect lances. Ringing cheers
sounded from the village, marking the imperial progress, for the whole
population of the country roundabout had turned out: even the opposite
banks of the Moselle were thronged by thousands who could not get
across.
The Countess Tekla, accompanied by her aunt, stood on the battlements to
get thus the first view of the Emperor, although she had commanded her
uncle to be in readiness, the moment his Majesty appeared below, to take
his place at the open gate, where, supported by his two women folk, he
was to offer his Sovereign the castle and the devotion of all within it.
Presently horsemen appeared advancing past the southern end of the
village, numbering, perhaps, two score, then there was an interval, and
all onlookers knew at once it was the Emperor in his glittering armour
who rode the prancing white horse, with but one attendant by his side.
Following him came another troop of horse, and thus ascended to Castle
Thuron the Emperor Rodolph, who but a short time before had slipped away
from it, a fugitive in the night.
Those manning the walls of the castle raised a great cheer when they saw
his Majesty, and Tekla could scarce refrain from clapping her hands at
the brave spectacle. The Black Count looked at the cavalcade with the
sombre discontent of one surveying a funeral procession, and Hilda
sighed when she saw but a single attendant accompanying the Emperor.
"Uncle, if you will lead us down, we will now take our places at the
gate," said Tekla, her voice quavering with conflicting emotions.
The Count obeyed in silence, and stood awkwardly, muttering low
maledictions at this mummery, yet knowing there was nothing before him
but endurance. His wife took up her position, trembling, at his right
and his niece at his left.
The foremost horsemen ranged themselves on each side of the gate, their
evolutions, for the moment, concealing the chief personage from the view
of those standing in the portal. When the Emperor rode forward with
Conrad at his side, Tekla cried out as one in fear, then for a moment
leaned against her uncle for support. Heinrich looked at her white face,
not knowing what ailed her, and was about to speak roughly, as was his
custom, when she gasped hurriedly under her breath:
"Uncle, uncle, look. Who is the Emperor?"
The Black Count turned his gaze once more to the front and cried:
"By my sins, it is no Emperor at all, but Lord Rodolph."
Tekla, quicker of comprehension, whispered, holding bravely off the
faintness that had suddenly come upon her:
"Lord Rodolph is the Emperor."
Rodolph swung himself lightly from the horse before Conrad could put
hand to stirrup, and advanced quickly towards them, the cavalry coming
to a halt behind him.
"My Lord Count," he cried, "you see how easy it is to take your castle
when a real warrior comes against it."
The Count, having no answer at hand, made none, being troubled in his
mind whether or no he should kneel, but if this neglect to bend the knee
was a breach of Court etiquette, he was pleased to note that the Emperor
was little likely to take heed of it. His Majesty had eyes for none but
the Countess Tekla, who appeared indeed a queen in the stately robes
that became her so well. Rodolph seemed suddenly stricken dumb by her
beauty, for all the colour had fled from her face, leaving it like
chiselled marble, as she stood demurely with her eyes bent on the
ground.
"Tekla," he murmured, taking her hand with deep reverence, and raising
it to his lips, "is the Prince who returns as welcome as the unknown
Lord would have been?"
"Yes----your Majesty," whispered Tekla, casting a swift glance at him,
the colour again touching her cheeks.
"And is Countess Tekla willing to become Empress Tekla?"
"The delight of a loyal subject is to obey the imperial command," she
said, a smile coming at last to her lips.
Again the Emperor raised her hand and kissed it.
"I suppose," growled the Black Count, gruffly, "there is no further need
of my standing here like a fool."
The Emperor laughed heartily, and the Countess Tekla joined him. The
tensity of the situation was at once relieved by the unmannerly remark
of the master of Thuron.
"No, my Lord, no. What the Countess and I have to say to each other may
be very well said without listeners, and it is a pity a man should not
enter his own house without asking permission. Ah, Hilda," he continued
on seeing the girl, "I have made Conrad a Lord, and he tells me that in
spite of his nobility, he loves a maid of low degree, and so we shall
soon all be noble who once ventured our for tunes in a slight skiff on
the Moselle Tekla," he whispered, as they entered the castle together,
"you have now no guardian, for his Lordship of Treves willingly resigns
control over so rebellious a vassal. Peace reigneth in the land, and
there will be no fewer than three Archbishops at our marriage."
_No Field Collection is Complete Without this Book_
A LITTLE BOOK _of_ TRIBUNE VERSE
_By_ EUGENE FIELD
Compiled and edited by JOSEPH G. BROWN, formerly city editor of the
_Denver Tribune_, and an intimate friend and associate of the poet
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This volume resurrects a literary treasure which has been buried for
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the hitherto unpublished poems of the gifted author.
These poems are the early product of Field's genius. They breathe the
spirit of Western life of twenty years ago. The reckless cowboy, the
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