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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.ble 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 G.o.dfather 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 n.o.bility, 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 p.r.o.nounced.

"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 circ.u.mstance 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 a.s.sertion 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."