"I should be delighted," cried Hildegunde, "for all sense of fatigue has been swept away by a most restful night."

The good-natured Count left them to their own devices, and shortly afterwards guardian and ward rode together down the steep declivity to the river. The mist was already driven away, except a wisp here and there clinging to the gray surface of the water, trailing along as if drawn by the current, for the air was motionless, and there was promise of a sultry day. They proceeded in silence until a bend in the Rhine shut Caub and its sinister water-prison out of sight, and then it was the girl who spoke.

"Guardian," she said, "have I offended you beyond forgiveness?"

A gentle smile came to his lips as he gazed upon her with affection.

"You have not offended me at all, my dear," he said, "but I am grieved at thwarting circ.u.mstance."

"I have been thinking over circ.u.mstances too, and hold myself solely to blame for their baffling opposition. I will submit without demur to whatever length of imprisonment may please, and, if possible, soften the Archbishop of Mayence. After my release I shall ask your consent that I may forthwith join the Sisterhood at Nonnenwerth. I wish to divide my wealth equally between yourself and the convent."

The Archbishop shook his head.

"I could not accept such donation."

"Why not? The former Archbishop of Cologne accepted Linz from my ancestress Matilda."

"That was intended to be but a temporary loan."

"Well; call my benefaction temporary if you like, to be kept until I call for it, but meanwhile to be used at your discretion."

"It is quite impossible," said the Archbishop firmly.

"Does that mean you will not allow me to adopt the religious life?"

"It means, my child, that I should not feel justified in permitting this renunciation of the world until you knew more of what you were giving up."

"I know enough already."

"You think so, but your experience of it is too recent for us to expect unbiased judgment this morning. I should insist on a year, at least, and preferably two years, part of that time to be spent in Frankfort and in Cologne. I antic.i.p.ate a great improvement in Frankfort when the new Emperor comes to the throne. If at the end of two years you are still of the same mind, I shall offer no further opposition."

"I shall never change my intention."

"Perhaps not. I am told that the determination of a woman is irrevocable, so a little delay does not much matter. Meanwhile, another problem pa.s.ses my comprehension. I have thought and thought about it, and am convinced there is a misunderstanding somewhere, which possibly will be cleared away too late. I am quite certain that Father Ambrose did not meet Prince Roland in Frankfort."

"Do you, then, dispute the word of Father Ambrose?" asked the girl, quickly checking the accent of indignation that arose in her voice, for humility was to be her role ever after.

"Father Ambrose is at once both the gentlest and most truthful of men.

He has undoubtedly seen somebody rob a merchant in Frankfort. He has undoubtedly been imprisoned among wine-casks; but that this thief and this jailer was Roland is incredible to me who know the young man, and physically impossible, for Prince Roland at that time was himself a prisoner, as, indeed, he is to-day. Prince Roland cannot be liberated from Ehrenfels without an order signed by Mayence, Treves, and myself. I alone have not the power to encompa.s.s his freedom, and Mayence is equally powerless although he is owner of the Castle. Some scoundrel is walking the streets of Frankfort pretending to be Roland."

"In that case, my Lord, he would not deny his ident.i.ty when accosted on the bridge."

"A very clever point, my dear, but it does not overcome my difficulty.

There might be a dozen reasons why the rascal would not incriminate himself to any stranger who thus took him by surprise. However, it is useless to argue the question, for I persuade you as little as you persuade me. The practical thing is to fathom the misunderstanding, and remove it. Will you a.s.sist me in this?"

"Willingly, if I can, Guardian."

"Very well. I must first inform you that your imprisonment is likely to be very short. You are to know that the harmony supposed to exist in Stolzenfels is largely mythical: I left behind me the seeds of discord.

I proposed that the glum niece of Treves, whom you met at our historic lunch, should be the future Empress. This nomination was seconded by Mayence himself, and received with unconcealed joy by my brother of Treves."

"Then for once the Court was unanimous? I think your choice an admirable one."

"The Archbishop of Mayence does not agree with you, my dear."

"Then why did he second your nomination?"

"Because he is so much more clever than Treves, who a few minutes later would have been the seconder."

"Why should his Lordship of Mayence think one thing and act another?"

"Why is he always doing it? No one can guess what Mayence really thinks, if he is judged by what he says. Were Treves' niece to become Empress, her uncle would speedily realize his power, and Mayence would lose his leadership. Could Mayence to-day secretly promote you to the position of Empress, he would gladly do so."

"But won't he at once look for some one else?"

"Certainly. That choice is now occupying his mind. His seconding of the nomination was merely a ruse to gain time, but if he proposes any one else he will find both Treves and myself against him. His only hope of circ.u.mventing the ambition of Treves is that something may happen, causing you to change your mind concerning Prince Roland."

"You forget, Guardian," protested the girl, "that his Lordship of Mayence said he would not permit me to marry Prince Roland after the way I had spoken and acted."

"He said that, my dear, under the influence of great resentment against you, but Mayence never allows resentment or any other feeling to stand in the way of his own interests. If you wrote him a contrite letter regretting your defiance of him, and expressing your willingness to bow to his wishes, I am very sure he would welcome the communication as a happy solution of the quandary in which he finds himself."

"You wish me to do this, Guardian?" she asked wistfully.

"Not until you are satisfied that Prince Roland is innocent of the charges you make against him."

"How can I receive such a.s.surance?"

"Ah, now you come to the object of this apparently purposeless journey.

I have had much experience in the world you are so anxious to renounce, and although I have seen the wicked prosper for a time, yet my faith has never been shaken in an overruling Providence, and what happened last night set me thinking so deeply that daylight stole in upon my meditations."

"Oh, my poor Guardian, I knew you had not slept, and all because of a worthless creature like myself, and a wicked creature, too, for I did not see the hand of Providence so visible to you."

"Surely, my dear, a moment's thought would reveal it to you. Remember how we came almost to the door of the prison, when a temporary reprieve was handed to us by that coa.r.s.e reprobate, the Pfalzgraf. Your suite of rooms was not yet ready, and thus we found bestowed upon us another free day; a day of untrammeled liberty, quite unlooked for. Now, much may be done in a day. An Empire has been lost and won within a few hours. With this gift came a revelation. That wine-blotched Pfalzgraf would have shown no consideration for you: to him a prisoner is a prisoner, to be cast anywhere, lock the door, and have done, but a wholesome fear had been instilled into him by his overlord. The Archbishop of Mayence had taken thought for your comfort, ordering that the best rooms in the Castle should be placed at your disposal. Hence, after all that had pa.s.sed, his Lordship felt no malignancy against you, and I dare say would have been glad to rescind the order for your imprisonment, were it not that he would never admit defeat."

"Oh, Guardian, what an imagination is yours! I am sure his Lordship of Mayence will never forgive me."

"His Lordship of Mayence, my dear, is in a dilemma from which no one except yourself can extricate him."

"His own cleverness will extricate him."

"Perhaps. Still, I'm not troubling about him. My thoughts are much too selfish for that. I wish you to lift me from _my_ uncertainty."

"You mean about Prince Roland? I shall do whatever you ask of me."

"I place no command, but I proffer a suggestion."

"It shall be a command, nevertheless."

"We have left your own prison far behind, and are approaching that of Prince Roland. To the door of that detaining Castle I propose to lead you. I am forbidden by my compact with the other Electors to see Prince Roland or to hold any communication with him. The custodian of the Castle, who knows me well, will not refuse any request I make, even if I ask to see the young man himself. He will therefore not hesitate to admit you when I require him to do so. To take away any taint of surrept.i.tiousness about my action, interfering, as one might say, with another man's house, I shall this evening write to the Archbishop of Mayence, tell him exactly what I have done, and why."