that message to Count Bertrich," said the Elector to his secretary.
"My Lord Archbishop, I will appeal to our Holy Father, the Pope, and to the Emperor."
"Do so. We will marry you first, and should we have made a mistake our Holy Father hath ample power to remedy it. And now, madame, your audience is ended."
The Countess retired to her apartments, knelt before the image of her saint and prayed for guidance. She was in some doubt that the harsh old man would insist on the carrying out of his threat, and she had hope that he would send for her to tell her so, but no message came from him. Tekla slept little that night, and going down to early mass she saw the chapel already decorated for the dreaded ceremony, the workmen having evidently spent the night in preparing it.
The floral wreaths, the loops of white flowers breathing sweetness and perfume, typical of love, joy and happiness, seemed in such ghastly contrast to the reality, that their simple presence did more to decide the girl than all the other influences which, on that eventful day, helped to shape her conduct.
She resolved to escape from the thraldom of the Archbishop; seek refuge in the castle of her uncle, and from that haven send an appeal to the Pope and also to the Emperor. The only question was now that of means. Castle Thuron was on the Moselle; the river was swift; she knew little of the geography of the country, but she was aware that the roads by the stream were bad, and she doubted if they extended all or even the greater part of the way to the Rhine. Could she once get several hours start, on that rapid current, the chances of being overtaken were slight.
While the Countess had full confidence in her maid Hilda, she thought it better not to confide her plans to any one. Hilda would be sure to tell her lover, and that young man might at the very outset refuse to undertake so perilous a voyage.
Then if Hilda were cross-questioned and became frightened, she could not confess what she did not know. In the case of failure Tekla wished to face all the results of her rebellion alone, and leave herself the right to say that none other knew of her purpose. Questioning Hilda, and finding she had learned where Conrad lived, the Countess, with the natural craft of her sex, made preparations calculated to baffle her pursuers, temporarily at least. When darkness set in, she requested Hilda to lay out for her the costume she usually wore. This costume she astonished Hilda by asking her to put on. When the tire-woman had thus arrayed herself the two looked like sisters, and Hilda laughed merrily at the transformation, which caused even the Countess, anxious as she was, to smile.
"Now listen attentively, Hilda, and act with circumspection. I have reason for wishing you to be mistaken for me to-night. You will put on this heavy veil so that none may see your face. Go quietly through the Palace and pass the guards without speaking to any or looking at any. Avoid meeting three persons at all hazards; return at once if you see one or other of them, and hie forth again as soon as danger is past. These three are the Archbishop, Count Bertrich, and the monk who is his Lordship's secretary. The guards will not stop you nor speak to you, thinking it is I who pass. Once outside, see that you are not followed, then get you to Conrad's house and bid him instantly to take you in his boat to the watersteps of the Palace, where I will await you."
"Conrad spoke of another to help him with the boat; should he be absent shall Conrad search for him, my Lady?"
"No. If he is there, bring him; if he is not, come instantly without. But first you must come with me to the water-door and bolt the door when I am out upon the steps."
"But how shall we return, my Lady?"
"I will tell thee more regarding our return when we are in the boat."
Hilda barred her lady out, which seemed a strange proceeding, then, safely reached without question or following, the door of Baron Siegfried, where she knocked twice.
CHAPTER VII.
THE FLIGHT OF THE COUNTESS.
"It is the Countess Tekla herself," cried Conrad, at the window.
"Then unbar at once and do not keep her waiting," commanded the Emperor, eagerly.
The bolts were instantly drawn back and the door thrown open.
"Oh, Conrad," whispered Hilda, flinging the veil over her shoulder, thus disclosing her face. She paused in the midst of her speech when she saw a stranger standing there.
"It is Hilda," said Conrad, to the Emperor. "Why do you masquerade as the Countess, Hilda?"
"It was her ladyship's wish. You are to take me in the boat with you immediately. The Countess awaits us at the watersteps."
The trap-door was open, and the Emperor descended, saying, hastily, "Come, Conrad."
"He is no boatman," whispered Hilda, holding back in alarm. "Who is——"
"Hush!" breathed Conrad, "trust to me and come."
An instant later the boat was pushed out with its three passengers, moving swiftly and silently down the stream, propelled by the lusty but noiseless strokes of Conrad's paddle. As they approached the watersteps it seemed at first that no one was there, but as Conrad with outstretched arm placed hand on the stone stairway and brought the boat to a stand, the shadowy form of the Countess came away from the closed door and a whisper breathed the name of Hilda. Hilda responded reassuringly, and the Countess came down the steps, Rodolph standing and handing her into the boat with a deference that the lady was too much agitated to notice. Her small hand, lightly touching his as she stepped into the boat, sent a thrill through him such as he had never experienced before. The Countess sat down with her back toward him, facing Hilda and Conrad.
"Now, good rowers," she said, breathing quickly, "keep within the shadow of the bank until we are sure to have escaped espionage, then I shall have further instructions, and remember that if you work well and silently I shall reward you beyond your hopes."
"May that prove true in my case," said Rodolph to himself.
The huge Palace seemed to float to the west; the moon shone brightly, but there was shadow enough thrown by the low bank to conceal the voyagers not only from chance wayfarers, should there be any, which was unlikely, but also from each other. The summer night was warm, and not a breath of wind rippled the surface of the river. Now and then some waterfowl, disturbed by their approach, plashed two or three times, beating wing against water, until it rose with a cry and soared away into the night.
They had made down the river for nearly an hour when Conrad began murmuring to Hilda, who sat next him.
"The Countess does not know how swift this river is," he said. "We will not get back in a week if we go much further. If it had been up the stream time would matter little, but down——"
"What does he say?" asked the Countess.
"He fears we cannot return betimes if we go further. The current is fleet to row against."
"Conrad," said the Countess, bending towards him, "we go not back, but forward. Seek the speediest part of the river, and guide the boat into it. I am on my way to Castle Thuron near the Rhine."
Both Hilda and Conrad gave utterance to exclamations of astonishment and alarm.
"But the Archbishop?" cried Hilda.
"But my master!" groaned Conrad.
"The Archbishop will follow us in hot haste when he finds us gone, Hilda, which will be some time before noontide to-morrow, therefore must Conrad persuade the swift stream to aid his stout arms."
"The boat is not mine," said Conrad, "and I have left my master without his sanction."
"I will amply reward your master for the losing of his boat, and you for the guiding of it. Both you and your comrade will I take into my employ, and neither shall lose by the transfer."
"Will you stand for me against my master as you did before, my Lord," cried Conrad, in great alarm