The Strong Arm. Barr Robert
will part company,” resumed Wilhelm, “as near Frankfort as it is safe for you to go, and my wife and I, accompanied by a score of men from this castle, will enter the capital. I will beg your complete pardon from his Majesty and if at first it is refused, I think Elsa will have better success with the Empress, who may incline her imperial husband toward clemency. All this I promise, providing I receive the consent and support of my father, and I am not likely to be refused, for he already knows the persuasive power of my dear betrothed when she pleads for mercy.”
“My consent and support I most willingly bestow,” said the Count, with a fervour that left no doubt of his sincerity.
The double marriage was duly solemnised, and Wilhelm, with his newly-made wife, completed their journey to Frankfort, escorted until almost within sight of the capital by five hundred and twenty men, but they entered the gates of the city accompanied by only the score of Schonburg men, the remaining five hundred concealing themselves in the rough country, as they well knew how to do.
Neither Wilhelm nor Elsa had ever seen a large city before, and silence fell upon them as they approached the western gate, for they were coming upon a world strange to them, and Wilhelm felt an unaccustomed elation stir within his breast, as if he were on the edge of some adventure that might have an important bearing on his future. Instead of passing peaceably through the gate as he had expected, the cavalcade was halted after the two had ridden under the gloomy stone archway, and the portcullis was dropped with a sudden clang, shutting out the twenty riders who followed. One of several officers who sat on a stone bench that fronted the guard-house within the walls, rose and came forward.
“What is your name and quality?” he demanded, gruffly.
“I am Wilhelm, son of Count von Schonberg.”
“What is your business here in Frankfort?”
“My business relates to the emperor, and is not to be delivered to the first underling who has the impudence to make inquiry,” replied Wilhelm in a haughty tone, which could scarcely be regarded, in the circumstances, as diplomatic.
Nevertheless, the answer did not seem to be resented, but rather appeared to have a subduing effect on the questioner, who turned, as if for further instruction, to another officer, evidently his superior in rank. The latter now rose, came forward, doffing his cap, and said:
“I understand your answer better than he to whom it was given, my Lord.”
“I am glad there is one man of sense at a gate of the capital,” said Wilhelm, with no relaxation of his dignity, but nevertheless bewildered at the turn the talk had taken, seeing there was something underneath all this which he did not comprehend, yet resolved to carry matters with a high hand until greater clearness came to the situation.
“Will you order the portcullis raised and permit my men to follow me?”
“They are but temporarily detained until we decide where to quarter them, my Lord. You know,” he added, lowering his voice, “the necessity for caution. Are you for the Archbishop of Treves, of Cologne, or of Mayence?”
“I am from the district of Mayence, of course.”
“And are you for the archbishop?”
“For the archbishop certainly. He would have honoured me by performing our marriage ceremony had he not been called by important affairs of state to the capital, as you may easily learn by asking him, now that he is within these walls.”
The officer bowed low with great obsequiousness and said:
“Your reply is more than sufficient, my Lord, and I trust you will pardon the delay we have caused you. The men of Mayence are quartered in the Leinwandhaus, where room will doubtless be made for your followers.
“It is not necessary for me to draw upon the hospitality of the good Archbishop, as I lodge in my father’s town house near the palace, and there is room within for the small escort I bring.”
Again the officer bowed to the ground, and the portcullis being by this time raised, the twenty horsemen came clattering under the archway, and thus, without further molestation, they arrived at the house of the Count von Schonburg.
“Elsa,” said Wilhelm, when they were alone in their room, “there is something wrong in this city. Men look with fear one upon another, and pass on hurriedly, as if to avoid question. Others stand in groups at the street corners and speak in whispers, glancing furtively over their shoulders.”
“Perhaps that is the custom in cities,” replied Elsa.
“I doubt it. I have heard that townsmen are eager for traffic, inviting all comers to buy, but here most of the shops are barred, and no customers are solicited. They seem to me like people under a cloud of fear. What can it be?”
“We are more used to the forest path than to city streets, Wilhelm. They will all become familiar to us in a day or two, yet I feel as if I could not get a full breath in these narrow streets and I long for the trees already, but perhaps content will come with waiting.”
“‘Tis deeper than that. There is something ominous in the air. Noted you not the questioning at the gate and its purport? They asked me if I favoured Treves, or Cologne, or Mayence, but none inquired if I stood loyal to the Emperor, yet I was entering his capital city of Frankfort.”
“Perhaps you will learn all from the Emperor when you see him,” ventured Elsa.
“Perhaps,” said Wilhelm.
The chamberlain of the von Schonburg household, who had supervised the arrangements for the reception of the young couple, waited upon his master in the evening and informed him that the Emperor would not be visible for some days to come.
“He has gone into retreat, in the cloisters attached to the cathedral, and it is the imperial will that none disturb him on worldly affairs. Each day at the hour when the court assembles at the palace, the Emperor hears exhortation from the pious fathers in the Wahlkapelle of the cathedral; the chapel in which emperors are elected; these exhortations pertaining to the ruling of the land, which his majesty desires to govern justly and well.
“An excellent intention,” commented the young man, with suspicion of impatience in his tone, “but meanwhile, how are the temporal affairs of the country conducted?”
“The Empress Brunhilda is for the moment the actual head of the state. Whatever act of the ministers receives her approval, is sent by a monk to the Emperor, who signs any document so submitted to him.”
“Were her majesty an ambitious woman, such transference of power might prove dangerous.”
“She is an ambitious woman, but devoted to her husband, who, it perhaps may be whispered, is more monk than king,” replied the chamberlain under his breath. “Her majesty has heard of your lordship’s romantic adventures and has been graciously pleased to command that you and her ladyship, your wife, be presented to her to-morrow in presence of the court.”
“This is a command which it will be a delight to obey. But tell me, what is wrong in this great town? There is a sinister feeling in the air; uneasiness is abroad, or I am no judge of my fellow-creatures.”
“Indeed, my Lord, you have most accurately described the situation. No man knows what is about to happen. The gathering of the Electors is regarded with the gravest apprehension. The Archbishop of Mayence, who but a short time since crowned the Emperor at the great altar of the cathedral, is herewith a thousand men at his back. The Count Palatine of the Rhine is also within these walls with a lesser entourage. It is rumoured that his haughty lordship, the Archbishop of Treves, will reach Frankfort to-morrow, to be speedily followed by that eminent Prince of the Church, the Archbishop of Cologne. Thus there will be gathered in the capital four Electors, a majority of the college, a conjunction that has not occurred for centuries, except on the death of an emperor, necessitating the nomination and election of his successor.”
“But as the Emperor lives and there is no need of choosing another, wherein lies the danger?
“The danger lies in the fact that the college has the power to depose as well as to elect.”
“Ah!