child. There is really nothing there to fright you, and if I can enter the room often and often alone, surely you will not hang back when I am with you. You shall devise most lovely costumes for us both, so that when our lovers return we shall enslave them anew, and in the making of our robes we shall have something more practical to think of than the glamour of the moonlight. Why did you not teach me to sew, Hilda? I never knew what a useless creature I was until I stood among all that rare assortment, enough to delight any woman's eye, and had no skill in the fashioning of the smallest piece of it. Then did I sit down and selfishly weep because you were not with me. And I have selected one web of quiet hue, but rich in texture, finely spun, which you shall make for my aunt, poor lady, who has never had anything to wear that she might be proud of. Come, Hilda, bring a lamp to ward off the darkness, and I shall keep the ghosts away from you."
Hilda, encouraged by the presence of the Countess, ventured into the silken store-room, containing the unwilling tribute of many a merchant to the potentate of Thuron, and once within the haunted chamber, was soon so much absorbed in the cutting of the material selected, and the fitting of it on the lovely model who posed before her, that all fear of spiritual onlookers fled, and so deft was the fair seamstress in the passion of her occupation that she would have measured and fitted even a ghost if the apparition had presented itself before her with a sepulchral request for a garment. When the attire of the Countess was completed, the lady then began to wonder, not without an admixture of apprehension, what her turbulent uncle would say when this mutilation of his goods came to his knowledge, and so resolved to settle the question once for all before Rodolph returned. Tekla entered the great dining hall, arrayed in all her splendour, her heart fluttering with anxiety regarding her reception, yet she was in a measure sustained by that feeling of confidence which comes to those who know they are handsomely attired. Heinrich's wife was so startled that she gasped in terror and cast an apprehensive glance at her husband, as his niece glided with apparent composure into the room. The Black Count himself looked up, but noticing no difference, merely grumbled that Tekla was late and went on with his scanty meal.
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE COUNTESS AND THE EMPEROR.
One morning word came hurriedly to the Count that there was a commotion near Alken, an attack being feared. Heinrich ascended to the battlements without haste and without enthusiasm. If an assault came he would repel it if he could, but he had little heart in the prospect of a fight, and as little hope of ultimate success. He had welcomed the departure of Rodolph and his two companions, largely because their going left three mouths less to feed, but he had such small faith in Rodolph's proffer of rescue that all thought of the young man had already gone from his mind.
Reaching the battlements, he saw on the plain to the south of the village evidence of something unusual in progress. Bugles were blowing, and men from the tents and the lines were hurriedly concentrating at a point where they seemed called upon to oppose some unexpected force. A man on horseback was listening to the protests of an officer of the Archbishop, who gesticulated violently, and apparently all answer the horseman made was to point to the flag which waved above him. What the flag was that lazily floated above its staff, Heinrich could not make out, but presently the horseman gave a signal to one of his buglers, and a trumpet call rang along the valley, and was echoed mockingly from the rocks opposite Alken. In a short space of time there came out from the shelter of the village, along the river street, soldiers marching four abreast, one line following another so closely that they seemed to tread on each other's heels, quartette after quartette, as if the village were some huge reservoir of men, and was belching them forth in such numbers that there was little wonder the Archbishop's officers stood helpless before this display of military power. At last the movement stopped, and the soldiers were halted four deep, standing at ease with their formidable array of lances bristling above them. Again the mounted man seemed to prefer his request or command, and this time heed was given it. The Archbishop's troops parted, leaving an open space, and through this came, not the soldiers who had the moment before exhibited their numbers, but laden animals with attendants, led by the officer on horseback. The procession came up the zig-zag path that ended at the castle gates, and every man of Thuron's garrison, who now clustered on the walls, raised a simultaneous cheer. They recognised the move as a break in the Archbishop's cordon, and vociferously acclaimed that help and food were coming to them.
Count Heinrich, however, was no optimist. His naturally suspicious mind caused him to imagine that here was merely another trick of his enemy of Treves, and he stood silent and grim, with arms folded across his breast, watching distrustfully the ascending cavalcade; and thus he remained until the trumpeter summoned the gate.
The mounted officer rode boldly forward as if he feared no rebuff. "Count Heinrich of Thuron," he cried to the motionless figure that stood like a lowering statue on the platform above the gate. "I greet you in the name of his Majesty, the Emperor, and am commanded by him to deliver to you food and wine, which I bring with me. I await your orders regarding their bestowal within your castle."
"How am I to know that you come from the Emperor, his Majesty being at this moment in Palestine."
"The Emperor Rodolph has returned, my Lord, and is now at the head of his army, gathered on the plain to the east of Thuron. His troops have surrounded the camp of the Archbishops, and it is his Majesty's will that this siege be immediately raised. My orders were to force a passage through to your gates if resistance were offered, but that was not necessary, as the Archbishops' officers made way for us when they found themselves confronted by overwhelming opposition; besides, they lacked orders from the Archbishops, who are now themselves besieged and cannot communicate with their captains."
A fierce fire lit up the eyes of the Black Count, and he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the Archbishops' camp to see if there were any sign of the environment of which the imperial messenger spoke. A low murmur, not unlike a growl, broke from his own men, impatient at the delay. The animal was hungry and scented its food.
"Open the gates," cried Heinrich, and the growl changed into a cheer again. The Count knew that if this were a trap he had no option but to fall into it, for they could not hold out longer. The gates were thrown open and relief entered.
Willing hands speedily unpacked the hampers. Many of the meats were already prepared for the table, well cooked and temptingly garnished. It required all the terror of the Count's eye to prevent his men from rushing forward and helping themselves. The master of Thuron appreciated the tension and saw that this was no time for delay or the display of undue authority. "Make the parapets your table," he shouted, "and the battlements your dining hall. You shall feast in sight of the Archbishops, if they care to look on. Fall to, and wait no ceremony."
Never was even Count Heinrich's command obeyed more promptly. The Emperor had been thoughtful and had sent a staff of cooks, with the material for their manipulation, and this was the more welcome when Count Heinrich heard, with something like consternation, that it was the Emperor's intention to visit Castle Thuron that day and dine with its master. This was an honour for which Count Heinrich felt himself in no way prepared, nor was it a distinction which he coveted. He paced the large room gloomily when the envoy had left him, pondering over his predicament, for he was not accustomed to the etiquette of courts, and had little practice in the bending of the knee. Upon his dilemma there suddenly intruded the radiant presence of his niece, aglow with excitement. He glared moodily at her approach.
"Is it true," she cried, "that the Emperor is to visit us?"
"I fear so," growled the Count.
"Fear so, Uncle? I am ashamed of you. How can you say you fear, when the moment he returned from the East he came to your rescue, no doubt as soon as my Lord Rodolph acquainted him with your position."
"It is not likely Lord Rodolph had anything to do with it. I have heard nothing of Lord Rodolph."
"Nevertheless, you will soon hear of him, and he it was who caused this quick rescue to be brought about. Rodolph will come to the castle by the side of the Emperor, and I will not have