Tekla. Barr Robert
the monk, with non-committal obsequiousness, and after this remark he gravely took his leave.
Baron von Brunfels again passed through the crowded hall, pausing to converse briefly with one or two acquaintances, but he learned nothing; on the contrary, he found those who knew him, expecting enlightenment themselves because he had just come from the ante-chamber.
The Baron mounted his horse and rode slowly back to Treves, pondering on the exciting events of the day. These events had convinced him that if Rodolph had been captured in the night, he had evidently escaped in the morning, and that this was the meaning of the hurried scouring of the country. There seemed nothing left but to return to his house in Treves, for he thought that if Rodolph could remain in hiding until nightfall he would probably attempt to re-enter the house by the way he had departed from it, knowing as he must, the anxiety his continued absence would cause his friend. Besides it must undoubtedly occur to him that, while the search lasted, the safest place in which to hide was Treves itself, for the Archbishop would most likely imagine that the fugitive Emperor had made for Frankfort with all the speed he could command.
Reasoning thus, the Baron passed again unchallenged through the gate to his house, which he found just as he had left it. He sent one of his servants to the cottage by the river with strict instructions not to quit the place until he was relieved, and to show two lights in the window if, for any reason, help was needed.
Then the Baron threw himself down on a couch to get some rest, and await the coming of night.
CHAPTER V
LOVE LEADS THE WAY
On the night after his adventure in the boat with the Baron, the Emperor retired early, bolted his door, threw open the window, flung down the rope, and so descended to the plain outside the wall. He made his way across the plateau, pausing for some moments to look at the lighted windows of the Palace, but hesitating to approach near, fearing to be challenged by the sentinels who marched up and down in front of the huge building. Finally he proceeded to the upper part of the village, knocked at the door of his friend's châlet, and was admitted by the young man in charge.
"Well, Conrad," he said, "has our eloquent and skilful archer left you yet?"
"Yes, my Lord. He went away this morning after he had breakfasted."
"Most heartily, I warrant?"
"Yes, my Lord!"
"And whither went he?"
"He said he thought of marching to the Rhine, my master having advised him that he would there find employment."
"I doubt not he will obtain it. They were ever a turbulent crew on the lordly Rhine. We are quit of the archer then. Have you seen Hilda since last night?"
"No, my Lord," said the young man, casting his eyes on the floor.
"Ah, there I stand your friend. I am come to hold guard until you return from the balcony. But hark ye, Conrad, we are all selfish in this world, and I demand due recompense for my watch and ward. Will you make bargain then to requite good deed with good deed?"
"So far as deed of mine may repay you, my Lord, not only for what you offer, but because of that you have already done on my behalf, you are welcome to any service of mine you are pleased to accept. I hold my life at your hands."
"Then we begin fair, and I see I may make for myself a most favourable compact with you. We are both of an age, and although it may seem heresy to say so under the feudal law, there might be some difficulty, if each were stripped of his trappings, to proclaim which of us was noble and which plebeian. The valiant archer, who was your guest, said quite truly, that under arms the best wielder of his weapon was ever the best man, be he titled or nameless, and I think the same holds true where such archery as that of Cupid comes in question. To be plain with you, Conrad, as lover to lover, there exists a maid in yonder palace with whom I would fain hold balcony discourse – but, alas! she waits not for me, listening to the ripple of the river or for the splash of my paddle. In truth, my friend, she, like many in this district, knows not of my existence, and of the fact that I live and adore her I should dearly love to make her aware."
"You mean the Countess Tekla, my Lord?"
"Conrad, 'tis easy to see that you have learned the craft of the arrow, not from our stupid archer, but under the tutelage of the god of love himself. Your first shaft shot straight home. Has Hilda ever spoken of her?"
"Sometimes, my Lord. The Countess is most unhappy, she says, because she is to wed the mighty war-lord Bertrich, whom she loves not."
"Then are we laggards indeed, did we stand idly by and offer no aid to the lady. Now, Conrad, what I wish you to do is this: discover for me whether the Countess walks in the garden attended only by Hilda, and at what hour. Get such particulars as you can regarding means of access to the spot, and beseech Hilda, as she hopes her own love shall prosper, to be my friend should I seek speech with the Countess."
"My Lord, there is a better way than that. Hilda told me when last the Court was at the river palace, that I was to hold myself in readiness with my boat, so that her ladyship might come secretly and be rowed by me upon the water. Nothing has since been said of this excursion, but I will ask Hilda to-night if it has been abandoned. I will ask her also to urge her ladyship to come, for Hilda has a persuasive tongue, and the Countess Tekla thinks much of her. Then I shall tell them that I must have a comrade to help me to manage the boat because of the strength of the current."
"Now the gods stand our friends, but that is a most happy conceit of yours, Conrad! Cupid should be the god of liars as of lovers. Therefore get thee with haste to thy balcony. I see we will manage this most skilfully together. See that Hilda be ready to say a soothing word should the Countess take alarm at my addressing her. Urge thou the water trip; dilate on the beauty of the full moon, the quickness with which it waneth, and the softness of the summer night. Plead eloquently, Conrad, and let Hilda think your anxiety rises from your desire to sit near her in the skiff, which will indeed be the truth."
"I shall do my best, my Lord," said Conrad, as he departed.
The Emperor strode up and down, humming to himself a song of the Swiss mountains that told of dangers dared for the sake of a lady. He kept his watch, half-expecting that at any moment his friend Siegfried might knock at the door; but no one came until he heard again the bump of the boat's prow underneath the house. A few moments later Conrad appeared through the trap-door.
"Well, what news?" cried the impatient guard.
"None, as yet. The Countess has not of late spoken of the boating project, but Hilda will suggest it and let me know the result to-morrow night."
"Then with that we must be content. To-morrow – at the same hour – I shall be here, and will again keep watch for you. Meanwhile take this and present it to Hilda to wear for my sake. I should have given it to you before you went to see her to-night, but became so interested in your plans that I forgot. Set the light in the upper window, and so good night."
He handed to the young man a jewelled necklace, and was gone.
At the same hour on the second night the Emperor was admitted by Conrad.
"Now away to your tryst," cried Rodolph, as soon as the door was barred. "I am impatient to hear the result of your oratory regarding the pleasures of boating in the moonlight."
The young man hesitated, then took from his bosom the necklace that had been given him the night before.
"I fear, my Lord, that this gift is too costly for me to present or Hilda to wear. I beg of you – "
"Tush, tush! Do not stand there chattering about trifles. I promised Hilda a dowry: it is in those jewels if I never give her more. This is an uncertain world, Conrad, and few of us know how long we may remain in it. When you and Hilda are married who knows where I may be? I may become Emperor, or may be a beggar; so in one case I should forget, while in the other there would be little gear in my remembering. Always take the good the gods send, when they send it. 'Tis unsafe to wait a second offer. And now begone, begone. Tell Hilda to conceal the necklace until such time as she can wear it safely or transmute the stones into gold. Away, away!"
Conrad descended to his boat