not a jot whether it pierces the heart of a Count Palatine, or the honest if stupid brain of a serf. And now, my Lord Rodolph, the life of his Blackness rests upon your lips. If you say 'Let fly' I kill him and whoever stands behind him, for I will break bow if this shaft go not through at least three unarmoured men."
"It is as the archer says, my Lord," said Rodolph, "and his expertness with his weapon is something almost beyond belief, as your own men, watching from your walls a while since, will doubtless testify. I beg that you make equitable terms with us, for I assure your Lordship the archer is more to be feared at this moment than a round dozen of Archbishops. I ask you to pass your knightly word, and to swear by the three Kings of Cologne and the Holy Coat of Treves, that you will do us no hurt, but allow us to pass freely on to Frankfort."
The Black Count glared in speechless rage at the unwavering archer, and made no reply, but one of the men seated behind him shifted position gingerly, speaking as he did so.
"It is no shame to yield, my Lord," he said. "I was witness to the bowman's skill and saw the two men unaccountably fall with less difference in time between them than the drawing of a breath."
The Count spoke after a moment's silence.
"If I respect not my own word, the swearing on Kings of Cologne or Coat of Treves will not make me keep it."
"I will take your word, my Lord, so that it includes us all, especially the archer, and stands also for the good conduct of your men."
"My men will not lay finger on you with safe conduct from me. I give you, then, my word that you pass on unscathed to Frankfort. Does that suffice?"
"It does, my Lord. Archer, unbend your bow."
The archer, with a sigh, lowered his weapon, but apparently had no such trust as Rodolph, for he still kept the arrow on the string. Captain Steinmetz looked shrewdly at his master, as if inquiring "Does this hold?" but he met only a lowering frown and a sharp command to betake himself to the courtyard and disband his men.
A bugle at that instant sounded outside, and the captain presently returned to announce that Count Bertrich was without, and demanded instant audience in the name of the Archbishop of Treves.
"Demands, does he? Let him wait until I am ready to receive him," replied the swarthy Count. Then, turning to a servitor, he commanded him to ask the attendance of his lady.
Heinrich continued his pacing of the room, which he had abandoned when the Emperor and those with him had entered. Moodiness sat on his brow, and he spoke to none; all within the apartment maintained silence. Presently there entered, dressed in deep black, a thin, sallow lady of dejected appearance, who probably had none too easy or pleasant a life of it with her masterful husband.
Heinrich stood, and without greeting said:
"This is my niece, Tekla of Treves, now on her way to Frankfort. She will rest here to-night, so I place her in your care."
When the ladies had departed the Count ordered that Conrad and the archer should have refreshment, then turning to Rodolph, he said:
"As the visit of Count Bertrich may have connection with the escapade in the development of which you have no doubt ably assisted, I request you to remain here until the conference is ended, as your testimony concerning it may be called for."
Rodolph bowed without speaking.
"Admit Count Bertrich," directed the master of Thuron, standing with his great knuckles resting on the table, ready to receive his warlike visitor.
Bertrich strode into the room quite evidently fuming because of the waiting he had been compelled to undergo. He made no salutation, but spoke in a loud voice, plunging directly into his subject. His face was pale, but otherwise he showed no sign of the rough treatment he had encountered. Looking neither to the right nor to the left, but straight at the Black Count, he began:
"Heinrich of Thuron, I bear the commands of my master and yours, Arnold von Isenberg, Lord Archbishop of Treves. In his name I charge you to repair instantly to Treves, bearing with you my Lord's ward, the Countess Tekla, whom you have treacherously encouraged and assisted in setting at defiance the just will of his Lordship. You are also to bring with you as prisoners those who aided her flight, and deliver them to the garrison at Cochem."
The eyes of Count Heinrich gleamed ominously from under the murky brow.
"I have heard," he said, harshly. "Is there anything further I can do to pleasure his Lordship?"
"You are to make public apology to him in his Palace at Treves, delivering into his hands the keys of Castle Thuron, and, after penance and submission have been duly performed and rendered, his Lordship may, in his clemency, entrust you again with the keeping of the castle."
"Does the category end so lamely?"
"I await your answer to as much as I have already cited."
"The Countess Tekla is of my blood, but somewhat contaminated, I admit, by the fact that her father was your predecessor in the Archbishop's favour. She was Arnold's ward, betrothed to you, his menial. She was in your hands at the capital city of the Archbishop, surrounded by spies and environed by troops. If then the girl has the wit to elude you all, baffle pursuit, and arrive unscathed in Thuron, she is even more my relative than I had given her credit for, and now the chief loser in the game comes yelping here to me like a whipped spaniel, crying 'Give her up.' God's wounds, why should I? She will but trick you again and be elsewhere to seek."
"I demand your plain answer, yes or no, to be given at your peril!"
"There is no peril in dealing with so stupid a band as that at Treves, whose head a simple girl may cozen and whose chief warrior, mounted and encased in iron an unarmoured foot-soldier can overthrow. By the three Kings, you strut here in my hall with jingling spurs which you have no right to wear. You know the rules of chivalry; give up your horse, your armour and your sword to the archer who rightfully owns them, having won them in fair field. When thus you have purged yourself of dishonesty, I will lend you a horse to carry my answer back to Treves, which is as follows: Tell the Archbishop that the maiden is in my castle of Thuron. If he want her, let him come and take her."
The colour had returned in more than its usual volume to the pale face of Count Bertrich as he listened to this contemptuous speech, but he made no reply until he had withdrawn the gauntlet from his hand: then, flinging it at the feet of the Black Count, he cried:
"There lies the gauge of my Lord Archbishop of Treves, and when Thuron Castle is blazing, I shall beg of his Lordship to allow me to superintend the hanging of the pirate who now inhabits it."
Heinrich threw back his head with a rasping bark that stood him in place of a laugh.
"Indeed, my Lord, you have the true hangman's favour, and I marvel not the girl fled from you. I am, as you say, somewhat of a pirate, but with more honesty in me than passes current in Treves, so I cannot lift the gauge without leave of its real owner. Steinmetz, bring here the archer with his bow."
When the wonder-stricken archer appeared, grasping his weapon, his mouth full, for he had been reluctantly haled from a groaning board, he looked with some apprehension at the Black Count, expecting a recantation of the promise wrung from him.
"Archer," cried Heinrich, "there lies a gauntlet which is yours of right. I ask you for it."
"Indeed, my Lord," replied the archer, hastily gulping his food to make utterance possible, "if I have aught to say concerning it, it is yours with right good will."
"Then from where you stand, as I refused your formal proposal to judge your marksmanship, pin it for me to the floor."
The archer, nothing loath, drew bow, and with incredible swiftness shot one after another five shafts that pierced fingers and thumb of the glove, the first arrow still quivering while the last struck into its place.
For the only time that day the dark face of the Count Palatine lit up, in radiant admiration of the stout foreigner who stood with a smirk of self-satisfaction while he nodded familiarly to Captain Steinmetz as who would say:
"You