Barbarossa divined the Chancellor's meaning, but he was inflexible.

"Not another word; the traitor must die!"

Conrad read in the Emperor's expression the uselessness of further appeal, and he could only rejoice that he had been able to prolong, although but for a few short hours, the life of the condemned. He might at least prepare him for the great journey into eternity.

"Hasten to discharge your holy mission," said Barbarossa, "for to-morrow at daybreak Bonello shall be hanged."

The prelate bowed, and left the tent.

"You should let the poor devil live," said the Chancellor, in a discontented tone.

"The poor devil might live," replied Barbarossa, "but the rebel must die;" and he took his place again at the table.

"If I aspired to the empire of the world, the blind G.o.ddess of justice would be obliged to make more than one sacrifice on the altar of expediency," remarked the Count of Da.s.sel. "The Abbot Conrad solicited the Guelph's pardon; Conrad is the friend of the Archbishop Eberhard, and Eberhard is the soul of the Episcopacy."

"Must we purchase the loyalty which is ours by right, by making concessions and granting impunity to crime?"

"Your Majesty's notions of justice utterly confound my poor wisdom,"

said Rinaldo respectfully. "At this moment I am in an awkward dilemma.

I see dangerous breakers ahead; a species of conspiracy against the realization of your gigantic enterprise, and I neither dare to show the peril nor attempt to avoid it. It is truly painful for a sincerely devoted heart."

"Explain your meaning," said the Emperor.

The Chancellor rose and approached the table, his knit brows and eager eyes wearing an expression of stern determination.

"Henry the Lion is Duke of Saxony and Bavaria," he continued. "He is the most powerful lord of Germany. As a Guelph, his attachment to Alexander is patent; we hold the proofs at hand. To conciliate Henry by gifts of power or territory would be dangerous. Proud, haughty, and ambitious, he can hope for nothing from you, and will naturally turn to that faction which can offer him the most solid advantages. Even now, perhaps, he may be only awaiting a plausible excuse for leaving the Emperor and joining the party of Alexander III."

The Chancellor paused for a moment, as if expecting a reply; but he received none.

"Henry the Lion is allied to the wealthy and powerful Berthold of Z[oe]hringen," continued Da.s.sel. "In the event of a rupture, Z[oe]hringen also would be arrayed against us. Is the Emperor in a fit condition to resist this coalition?"

"The a.s.sertion is a bold one, my lord, and yet I must confess that your fears are not entirely groundless," answered Barbarossa.

"I have shown the danger to your Majesty; let me now explain how it may be averted. The Lion espoused Clemence, a sister of the Z[oe]hringen; by her he has no male issue. Now, to a prince who seeks to perpetuate the glories of his race, there can be no condition more painful than this, and it is even said to have caused more than one curious family discussion. Should the Duke repudiate Clemence, your cause would be gained; for by the very fact of the divorce he would be obliged to break with Z[oe]hringen and Alexander, and become your partisan."

Frederic shook his head, as he replied,--

"This master-stroke of policy is not without its merit, but is the proceeding honest or honorable?"

"Ah!" cried Da.s.sel, "I felt sure that the Emperor's love of justice would prove the only real obstacle to the success of the house of Hohenstauffen. Ah, well!" he continued ironically, "we shall at least be martyrs to the cause of justice."

The Emperor was silent; Rinaldo had wounded his conscientious scruples, but the Chancellor spread out before him a parchment, and looked steadily upon his sovereign, as he prepared to employ this last terrible weapon.

"Henry the Lion is ambitious," said Barbarossa; "his strength and his alliances make him really dangerous. But, your plan is a good one, if it were feasible!"

"And why not, Sire? If the Emperor could divorce himself, what can prevent the Duke? If I mistake not, you did not ask permission of the Pontiff when, upon the pretext of consanguinity, you repudiated Adelaide and married Beatrice. Think you that the Pope Victor will hesitate to annul the Duke's marriage, if the Emperor so orders it?"

"Measure your words, my lord Chancellor! If I still hesitate, it is because of the crying injustice of which poor Clemence would be the victim. She is a n.o.ble woman!"

"Doubtless, and I pity her sincerely; but are the tears of a woman to baffle your projects for glory and dominion?"

This remark terminated the discussion. The proud aspirations of Barbarossa for universal Empire smothered every other feeling. He loved power and fame, and to them he sacrificed every other sentiment.

"But the Duke's a.s.sent to our projects is by no means certain," said he, less to discuss the subject than as & mark of his discontent.

"I will take care of that," said the Chancellor; "the Lion must be speedily influenced to an open rupture!"

_CHAPTER IX_.

_FILIAL DEVOTION_.

The oftener Bonello saw his daughter, the more unwilling he became to die. Alas! what will become of her, poor orphan, he thought. Then again, at times, he turned to his project of her marriage with Nigri, and felt rea.s.sured. But Pietro had so deeply wounded her feelings by his violent and inconsiderate outburst, that he no longer desired that union for his child. She might perhaps seek shelter in a convent! Yet, in those times of civil strife, the walls of a cloister were but an insecure protection! Whilst he lamented in the bitterness of his thought, Pietro Nigri recommenced his wild harangue on the subject of the expected pardon.

"I should be sorry, sir knight, to allow Frederic to suppose for an instant that I feared death."

"Our positions are very different, young man," replied Bonello. "The cares and sentiments of a father are often more potent than the chivalrous heroism of a youth!"

"You should be able to master your emotions," said Nigri. "The ties of mere human affection should be as nothing compared with the duties which we owe to our country. If we fear the rope and the scaffold,--if the approach of death is to excite our tears,--we will deserve, by our weakness, to bear the German yoke."

"You really do yourself injustice, Pietro!" said the prisoner, glancing towards the window where his daughter stood, anxiously awaiting the return of the Abbot. At last she perceived some hors.e.m.e.n approaching the eminence on which the fortress was built. It even seemed to her that she could distinguish the monk's robe; but what meant those armed men? Were they the Abbot's escort? Her heart beat violently. They drew up at the foot of the hill, and the prelate, leaving his attendants, ascended with hasty steps the path which led to the Castle.

"It is he!--he is coming--he is coming," cried Hermengarde, excitedly.

"See how the holy man hastens. No! his is not the air of a messenger of evil; it is mercy and pardon that he will announce! My father!--oh, my father!" said she, embracing Bonello, and smiling through her tears.

"You are right, perhaps, my child; but wait a moment."

"Oh! do not doubt it, it is certain! You are pardoned; a voice from within tells me that I am right!"

The key grated in the lock, and the Abbot entered with a solemn and dejected mien.

"I have come in person," he said, "to communicate the result of my mission. I have only partially succeeded. Sir Knight. But the Emperor has respited you for to-day."

The prisoner was not for an instant deceived by the mild form under which the Abbot veiled his failure. But the childish sentiments of Hermengarde did not take in at once the dread truth.

"Holy Father," said she, "your vague words alarm me. I implore you, tell me clearly if the Emperor has pardoned my father?"

The prelate looked sadly at the young girl.

"At first the Emperor positively refused to listen to my prayers for mercy; however, by my persistent supplications I have attained a satisfactory result."

"Ah! only for to-day!"

"We may feel perfectly easy, dear child. To-day not a hair of your father's head will be harmed!"

"But to-morrow!--Great G.o.d! what may happen tomorrow?" she cried, with anguish.