armed, the which makes it most unlikely that you can be of that service to me which doubtless your good nature would give you pleasure in rendering. I am, as you may have noticed, a man accustomed to the wars, and now on the outlook for some noble who has quarrels on hand and the will to pay for a skilful archer who, I may say in all modesty, seeing there is none to testify on my behalf, never misses a mark he aims at, providing the object be but a fair and reasonable distance away. I am desirous of taking upon me the quarrel of any such noble, all the better pleased if the quarrel be just, but not looking too closely into the merits of the dispute, as experience has shown me that few controversies exist, in which there is not something to be said for both sides; the only conditions I would be inclined to impose being that pay should be reasonably sure, and that the provender, such as a man may require to keep him in health, be ample, for a taut string is of little use unless there be good muscle behind it."
"Well and truly spoken, Sir Archer," cried Rodolph, "and inaccurate only in one detail, which is that there stands a man before you who can testify most enthusiastically regarding your skill with the bow. Then you have not yet won your way to the Rhine?"
"Ah, my Lord, is it indeed you? I thought there was something familiar in your appearance; but I saw you before for a short time only, and that at night. Although I spoke just now of taking service with any noble who might be in need of a man-at-arms, still I hold myself in some measure as being under your orders, for I accepted from you three months' pay, and while it is true that I have had to provide food at my own expense and lodging where night overtook me, still neither the quality nor cost of either has been such as to invalidate our bargain, should you care to hold me to it. Of the food along the Moselle I can truly and of experience say it is most vile and swinish, always excepting the supper and breakfast provided me by the good fellow who stands at your side, and who is, if I mistake not, the same whom your comrade, having small knowledge of the dignity of archery, the which is only what might have been expected of him, being an untaught German, desired me to execute by driving a good shaft through him at three yards or so distance."
"You have fallen among friends," said the Emperor, "and although I fear, that, if your fasting has been involuntary, you can claim little credit from it for the benefit of your soul, yet we are happily in a position to give you one good meal, which will banish the remembrance of hunger and at least afford temporary benefit to your body."
"I am loath to say that I give little thought to my soul," replied the archer, promptly advancing when he became aware that there was sustenance on the top of the hill, "and I minister unto it perhaps as much as any man now under arms in Germany, which is not high recommendation; still the body has a practice of pressing its claims upon a man's mind in a way that will not be denied, and therefore I accept with most hearty gratitude any victual that your Lordship may have at your disposal, and I trust that in the provisioning of your expedition such an important item as that of drink has not been forgotten."
"Your faith in the thoughtfulness of our caterer is far from being misplaced. I can guarantee you wine as good as the Archbishop himself keeps in his cellars."
The archer drew the back of his hand across his waiting lips, and smacked them in anticipation of the unexpected good fortune that had befallen him. Rodolph asked Conrad to provide as well for their visitor as the remnants of the feast would allow, and the archer, wasting no time in further conversation, fell to, and left nothing for a later guest, should such an one arrive.
While the archer heroically made up for lost time, Conrad brought round the horses, and Rodolph assisted the Countess to mount. Hilda and Conrad were also ready for the short journey that lay before them, but the Emperor stood with bridle rein over his arm, and waited the finishing of the feast, desiring to give the archer hint that there was probably action ahead at Thuron Castle.
"You have met with little encouragement, then, on your march down the river," said the Emperor, as the bowman, with a deep sigh, ceased operations.
"No encouragement at all, your Lordship. Never in all my travelling, either in Germany or elsewhere, have I passed through a country so depressingly peaceful, which weighs heavily on one's spirits: indeed it is enough to make a man turn monk, and forsake the bow-string for a string of beads. What better evidence could there be of the sluggish nature of this district than the fact that there is at this moment approaching us, doubtless from yonder castle, three mounted and armed men, who in some sort appear to be trying to come upon us unmarked, yet here we are, a tranquil group, paying scant attention to their adjacency."
As the archer, who was gazing toward Thuron Castle, spoke thus in a tone of complacent dejection, Rodolph, who had been scanning the district to the west, turned suddenly round, and to his amazement beheld three men on horseback, who had evidently worked their way unseen up the opposite side of the hill from which the Emperor and his party had ascended, and who now stood some distance off, regarding the startled quartette and their calm guest; the bowman not having the remotest idea what the sudden appearance of those to whom he had thus casually called attention meant to his hosts.
To Rodolph they were merely three armed men, but the keener eyesight of the Countess brought swift knowledge to her, and caused a quick pallor to overspread her face.
"The Count Bertrich!" she cried.
The Emperor clenched his fist and drew a deep breath, as the thought of all his useless scouring of the western horizon surged over him.
"Intercepted!" he muttered to himself, with a half-smothered oath.
CHAPTER XI.
IN QUEST OF A WIFE WITH A TROOP OF HORSE.
When Count Bertrich flung himself from his horse in front of the Archbishop's summer palace at Zurlauben, and strode hastily up the steps that led to the entrance, he passed through the crowded hall, looking neither to the right nor the left until he reached the ante-chamber that communicated with the large room in which the Elector transacted his business. The waiting and excited throng in the hall made way for him, as the great war-lord and acknowledged favourite of the powerful Archbishop went clanking through among them clad in full armour, paying not the slightest heed to their salutations.
The Count found the secretary ready to conduct him instantly into the presence of the Archbishop, and together, in silence, they entered the lofty apartment that was part chapel and part throne-room.
At the further end of the noble presence-chamber Arnold von Isenberg paced back and forward across the polished floor, his hands clasped behind him, a dark frown on his downward bent brow. He was clad in the long silken robes of his priestly office, and their folds hissed behind him like a following litter of serpents as he walked. He paused in his promenade when the Count and the monk entered, and, straightening his tall form, stood regarding them in silence, until the secretary slipped noiselessly from the room and left the summoned and summoner alone together.
"You are here at last," began the Archbishop, coldly. "It is full time you arrived. Your bride has fled."
"Fled? The Countess Tekla?"
"You have no other, I trust," continued the Prince of the Church, in even, unimpassioned tones. "My first thought on learning she was missing made me apprehensive that the girl had anticipated the marriage ceremony by flying to your notoriously open arms, and I expected to be asked to bless a bridal somewhat hastily encompassed; but I assume from your evident surprise that she has been given the strength to resist temptation which takes the form of your mature and manly virtues."
The sword cut across Count Bertrich's face reddened angrily as he listened to the sneering, contemptuous words of the Archbishop, but he kept his hot temper well in hand and said nothing. The manner of his over-lord changed, and he spoke sharply and decisively, as one whose commands admit neither question nor discussion.
"Last night the Countess Tekla took it upon herself to disappear. The guards say she passed them going outward about ten o'clock, and no one saw her return. This leads me to suspect that, with childish craftiness, the passing of the guards was merely a ruse on