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The Sword Maker by Robert Barr

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"Madam," he said, "we are met here in an hour of grave anxiety. The
Emperor, who has been ill for some time, is now upon his death-bed, and
the physicians who attend him inform me that at any moment we may be
called upon to elect his successor. That successor has already been
chosen; chosen, I may add, in an informal manner, but his selection is
not likely to be canceled, unless by some act of his own which would
cause us to reconsider our decision. Our adoption was made very recently
in my castle of Ehrenfels, and we are come together again in the Castle
of my brother Treves, not in our sacred office as Archbishops, but in
our secular capacity as Electors of the Empire, to determine a matter
which we consider of almost equal importance. It is our privilege to
bestow upon you the highest honor that may be conferred on any woman in
the realm; the position of Empress.

"When you have signified your acceptance of this great elevation, I must
put to you several questions concerning your future duties to the State,
and these are embodied in a document which you will be asked to sign."

The Countess did not raise her eyes. While the Archbishop was speaking
the color flamed up in her cheeks, but faded away again, and her
guardian, who watched her very intently across the table, saw her face
become so pale that he feared she was about to faint. However, she
rallied, and at last looked up, not at her dark-browed questioner, but
at the Archbishop of Cologne.

"May I not know," she said, in a voice scarcely audible, "who is my
future husband?"

"Surely, surely," replied her guardian soothingly, "but the Elector of
Mayence is our spokesman here, and you must address your question to his
Lordship."

She now turned her frightened eyes upon Mayence, whose brow had become
slightly ruffled at this interruption, and whose lips were more firmly
closed. He sat there imperturbable, refusing the beseechment of her
eyes, and thus forced her to repeat her question, though to him it took
another form.

"My Lord, who is to be the next Emperor?"

"Countess von Sayn, I fear that in modifying my opening address to
accord with the comprehension of a girl but recently emerged from
convent life, I have led you into an error. The Court of Electors is not
convened for the purpose of securing your consent, but with the duty of
imposing upon you a command. It is not for you to ask questions, but to
answer them."

"You mean that I am to marry this unknown man, whether I will or no?"

"That is my meaning."

The girl sat back in her chair, and the moisture that had gathered in
her eyes disappeared as if licked up by the little flame that burned in
their depths.

"Very well," she said. "Ask your questions, and I will answer them."

"Before I put any question, I must have your consent to my first
proposition."

"That is quite unnecessary, my Lord. When you hear my answer to your
questions, you will very speedily withdraw your first proposition."

The Elector of Treves, who had been shifting uneasily in his chair, now
leaned forward, and spoke in an ingratiating manner.

"Countess, you are a neighbor of mine, although you live on the opposite
side of the river, and I am honored in receiving you as my guest. As
guest and neighbor, I appeal to you on our behalf: be assured that we
wish nothing but your very greatest good and happiness." The spark in
her eyes died down, and they beamed kindly on the courtier Elector. "You
see before you three old bachelors, quite unversed in the ways of women.
If anything that has been said offends you, pray overlook our default,
for I assure you, on behalf of my colleagues and myself, that any one of
us would bitterly regret uttering a single word to cause you
disquietude."

"My disquietude, my Lord, is caused by the refusal to utter the single
name I have asked for. Am I a peasant girl to be handed over to the hind
that makes the highest offer?"

"Not so. No such thought entered our minds. The name is, of course, a
secret at the present moment, and I quite appreciate the reluctance of
my Lord of Mayence to mention it, but I think in this instance an
exception may safely be made, and I now appeal to his Lordship to
enlighten the Countess."

Mayence answered indifferently:

"I do not agree with you, but we are here three Electors of equal power,
and two can always outvote one."

The Elector of Cologne smiled slightly; he had seen this comedy enacted
before, and never objected to it. The carrying of some unimportant point
in opposition to their chief always gave Treves a certain sense of
independence.

"My Lord of Cologne," said the latter, bending forward and addressing
the man at the other end of the table "do you not agree with me?"

"Certainly," replied Cologne, with some curtness.

"In that case," continued Treves, "I take it upon myself to announce to
you, Madam, that the young man chosen for our future ruler is Prince
Roland, only son of the dying Emperor."

The hands of the Countess nervously clutched the soft velvet on the arms
of her chair.

"I thank you," she said, addressing Treves, and speaking as calmly as
though she were Mayence himself. "May I ask you if this marriage was
proposed to the young man?"

Treves looked up nervously at the stern face of Mayence, who nodded to
him, as much as to say:

"You are doing well; go on."

"Yes," replied Treves.

"Was my name concealed from him?"

"No."

"Had he ever heard of me before?"

"Surely," replied the diplomatic Treves, "for the fame of the Countess
von Sayn has traveled farther than her modesty will admit."

"Did he agree?"

"Instantly; joyfully, it seemed to me."

"In any case, he has never seen me," continued the Countess. "Did he
make any inquiry, whether I was tall or short, old or young, rich or
poor, beautiful or ugly?"

"He seemed very well satisfied with our choice."

Treves had his elbows on the table, leaning forward with open palms
supporting his chin. He had spoken throughout in the most ingratiating
manner, his tones soft and honeyed. He was so evidently pleased with his
own diplomacy that even the eye of the stern Mayence twinkled
maliciously when the girl turned impulsively toward the other end of the
table, and cried:

"Guardian, tell me the truth! I know this young man accepted me as if I
were a sack of grain, his whole mind intent on one thing only: to secure
for himself the position of Emperor. Is it not so?"

"It is not so, Countess," said Cologne solemnly.

"Prince Roland, it is true, made no stipulation regarding you."

"I was sure of it. Any Gretchen in Germany would have done just as well.
I was merely part of the bargain he was compelled to make with you, and
now I announce to the Court that no power on earth will induce me to
marry Prince Roland. I claim the right of my womanhood to wed only the
man whom I love, and who loves me!"

Mayence gave utterance to an exclamation that might be coarsely
described as a snort of contempt. The Elector of Treves was leaning back
in his chair discomfited by her abrupt desertion of him. The Elector of
Cologne now leaned forward, dismayed at the turn affairs had taken, deep
anxiety visible on his brow.

"Countess von Sayn," he began, and thus his ward realized how deeply she
had offended, "in all my life I never met any young man who impressed me
so favorably as Prince Roland of Germany. If I possessed a daughter whom
I dearly loved, I could wish her no better fortune than to marry so
honest a youth as he. The very point you make against him should have
told most strongly in his favor with a young girl. My reading of his
character is that so far as concerns the love you spoke of, he knows as
little of it as yourself, and thus he agreed to our proposal with a
seeming indifference which you entirely misjudge. If you, then, have any
belief in my goodwill towards you, in my deep anxiety for your welfare
and happiness, I implore you to agree to the suggestion my Lord of
Mayence has made. You speak of love knowing nothing concerning it. I
call to your remembrance the fact that one noble lady of your race may
have foregone the happiness that love perhaps brings, in her desire for
the advancement of one whom she loved so truly that she chose for her
guide the more subdued but steadier star of duty. The case is presented
to you, my dear, in different form, and I feel assured that duty and
love will shine together."

As the venerable Archbishop spoke with such deep earnestness, in a voice
she loved so well, the girl buried her face in her hands, and he could
see the tears trickle between her fingers. A silence followed her
guardian's appeal, disturbed only by the agitated breathing of
Hildegunde.

The cold voice of the Elector of Mayence broke the stillness, like a
breath from a glazier:

"Do you consent, Madam?"

"Yes," gasped the girl, her shoulders quivering with emotion, but she
did not look up.

"I fear that the object of this convocation was like to be forgotten in
the gush of sentiment issuing from both sides of me. This is a business
meeting, and not a love-feast. Will you do me the courtesy, Madam, of
raising your head and answering my question?"

The girl dashed the tears from her eyes, and sat up straight, grasping
with nervous hands the arms of the throne, as if to steady herself
against the coming ordeal.

"I scarcely heard what you said. Do you consent to marry Prince Roland
of Germany?"

"I have consented," she replied firmly.

"Will you use your influence with him that he may carry out the behests
of the three Archbishops?"

"Yes, if the behests are for the good of the country."

"I cannot accept any qualifications, therefore I repeat my question.
Will you use your influence with him that he may carry out the behests
of the three Archbishops?"

"I can have no influence with such a man."

"Answer my question, Madam."

"Say yes, Hildegunde," pleaded Cologne.

She turned to him swimming eyes.

"Oh, Guardian, Guardian!" she cried, "I have done everything I can, and
all for you; all for you. I cannot stand any more. This is torture to
me. Let me go home, and another day when I am calmer I will answer your
questions!"

The perturbed Archbishop sat back again with a deep sigh. The ignorance
of women with which his colleague of Treves had credited all three was
being amazingly dispelled. He could not understand why this girl should
show such emotion at the thought of marrying the heir to the throne,
when assured the young man was all that any reasonable woman could
desire.

"Madam, I pray you give your attention to me," said the unimpassioned
voice of Mayence. "I have listened to your conversation with my
colleagues, and the patience I exhibited will, I hope, be credited to
me. This matter of business"--he emphasized the word--"must be settled
to-day, and to clear away all misapprehension, I desire to say that your
guardian has really no influence on this matter. It was settled before
you came into the room. You are merely allowed a choice of two outcomes:
first, marriage with Prince Roland; second, imprisonment in Pfalz
Castle, situated in the middle of the Rhine."

"What is that?" demanded the Countess.

"I am tired of repeating my statements."

"You would imprison me--me, a Countess of Sayn?"

Again the tears evaporated, and in their place came the smoldering fire
bequeathed to her by the Crusaders, and, if the truth must be known, by
Rhine robbers as well.

"Yes, Madam. A predecessor of mine once hanged one of your ancestors."

"It is not true," cried the girl, in blazing wrath. "'Twas the Emperor
Rudolph who hanged him; the same Emperor that chastised an Archbishop of
Mayence, and brought him, cringing, to his knees, begging for pardon,
which the Emperor contemptuously flung to him. You dare not imprison
me!"

"Refuse to marry Prince Roland, and learn," said the Archbishop very
quietly.

The girl sprang to her feet, a-quiver with anger.

"I do refuse! Prince Roland has hoodwinked the three of you! He is a
libertine and a brawler, consorting with the lowest in the cellars of
Frankfort; a liar and a thief, and not a brave thief at that, but a
cutthroat who holds his sword to the breast of an unarmed merchant while
he filches from him his gold. Added to that, a drunkard as his father
is; and, above all, a hypocrite, as his father is not, yet clever
enough, with all his vices, to cozen three men whose vile rule has
ruined Frankfort, and left the broad Rhine empty of its life-giving
commerce;" she waved her hand toward the vacant river.

The Archbishop of Cologne was the first to rise, horror-stricken.

"The girl is mad!" he murmured.

Treves rose also, but Mayence sat still, a sour smile on his lips, yet a
twinkle of admiration in his eyes.

"No, my poor Guardian, I am not mad," she cried, regarding him with a
smile, her wrath subsiding as quickly as it had risen. "What I say is
true, and it may be that our meeting, turbulent as it has been, will
prevent you from making a great mistake. He whom you would put on the
throne is not the man you think."

"My dear ward!" cried Cologne, "how can you make such accusations
against him? What should a girl living in seclusion as you live, know of
what is passing in Frankfort."

"It seems strange, Guardian, but it is true, nevertheless. Sit down
again, I beg of you, and you, my Lord of Treves. Even my Lord of Mayence
will, I think, comprehend my abhorrence when such a proposal was made to
me, and I hope, my Lord, you will forgive my outburst of anger just
now."

She heard the trembling Treves mutter:

"Mayence never forgives."

"Now, Father Ambrose, come forward."

"Why?" asked Ambrose, waking from his reverie.

"Tell them your experiences in Frankfort."

"I am not allowed to speak," objected the monk.

"Speak, speak!" cried Cologne. "What, sir, have you had to do with this
girl's misleading?"

"I thought," he said wistfully to his kinswoman, "that I was not to
mention my visit to Frankfort unless my Lord the Archbishop brought up
the subject."

"Have you not been listening to these proceedings?" cried the girl
impatiently. "The subject is brought up before three Archbishops,
instead of before one. Tell their Lordships what you know of Prince
Roland."

Father Ambrose, with a deep sigh, began his recital, to which Treves and
Cologne listened with ever-increasing amazement, while the sullen
Mayence sat back in his chair, face imperturbable, but the thin lips
closing firmer and firmer as the narrative went on.

When the monologue ended, his Reverence of Cologne was the first to
speak:

"In the name of Heaven, why did you not tell me all this yesterday?"

Father Ambrose looked helplessly at his kinswoman, but made no reply.

"I forbade him, my Lord," said the girl proudly, and for the first time
addressing him by a formal title, as if from now on he was to be
reckoned with her enemies. "I alone am responsible for the journey to
Frankfort and its consequences, whatever they may be. You invoked the
name of Heaven just now, my Lord, and I would have you know that I am
convinced Heaven itself intervened on my behalf to expose the real
character of Prince Roland, who has successfully deluded three men like
yourselves, supposed to be astute!"

The Archbishop turned upon her sorrowful eyes, troubled yet kindly.

"My dear Countess," he said, "I have not ventured to censure you;
nevertheless I am, or have been, your guardian, and should, I think,
have been consulted before you committed yourself to an action that
threatens disaster to our plans."

The girl replied, still with the hauteur so lately assumed:

"I do not dispute my wardship, and have more than once thanked you for
your care of me, but at this crisis of my life--a crisis transforming me
instantly from a girl to a woman--you fail me, seeing me here at bay. I
wished to spend a month or two at the capital city, but before troubling
you with such a request I determined to learn whether or not the state
of Frankfort was as disturbed as rumor alleged. Finding matters there to
be hopeless, the project of a visit was at once abandoned, and knowing
nothing of the honor about to be conferred on Prince Roland, I thought
it best to keep what had been discovered regarding his character a
secret between the Reverend Father and myself. I dare say an attempt
will be made to cast doubt on the Reverend Father's story, and perhaps
my three judges may convince themselves of its falseness, but they
cannot convince me, and I tell you finally and formally that no power on
earth will induce me to marry a marauder and a thief!"

This announcement effectually silenced the one friend she possessed
among the three. Mayence slowly turned his head, and looked upon the
colleague at his right, as much as to say, "Do you wish to add your
quota to this inconsequential talk?"

Treves, at this silent appeal, leaned forward, and spoke to the
perturbed monk, who knew that, in some way he did not quite understand,
affairs were drifting towards a catastrophe.

"Father Ambrose," began the Elector of Treves, "would you kindly tell us
the exact date when this encounter on the bridge took place?"

"Saint Cyrille's Day," replied Father Ambrose.

"And during the night of that day you were incarcerated in the cellar
among the wine-casks?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Would it surprise you to know, Father Ambrose, that during Saint
Cyrille's Day, and for many days previous to that date, Prince Roland
was a close prisoner in his Lordship of Mayence's strong Castle of
Ehrenfels, and that it was quite impossible for you to have met him in
Frankfort, or anywhere else?"

"Nevertheless, I did meet him," persisted Father Ambrose, with the quiet
obstinacy of a mild man.

Treves smiled.

"Where did you lodge in Frankfort, Father?"

"At the Benedictine Monastery in Sachsenhausen."

"Do the good brethren supply their guests with a potent wine? Frankfort
is, and always has been, the chief market of that exhilarating but
illusion-creating beverage."

The cheeks of the Countess flushed crimson at this insinuation on her
kinsman's sobriety. The old monk's hand rested on the arm of her throne,
and she placed her own hand upon his as if to encourage him to resent
the implied slander. After all, they were two Sayns hard pressed by
these ruthless potentates. But Ambrose answered mildly:

"It may be that the monastery contains wine, my Lord, and doubtless the
wine is good, but during my visit I did not taste it."

Cross-examination at an end, the Lord of Mayence spoke scarcely above a
whisper, a trace of weariness in his manner.

"My Lords," he said, "we have wandered from the subject. The romance by
Father Ambrose is but indifferently interesting, and nothing at all to
the point. Even a child may understand what has happened, for it is
merely a case of mistaken identity, and my sympathy goes out entirely
towards the unknown; a man who knew his own mind, and being naturally
indignant at an interference both persistent and uncalled for, quite
rightly immured the meddler among the casks, probably shrewd enough to
see that this practicer of temperance would not interfere with their
integrity.

"Madam, stand up!"

The Countess seemed inclined to disobey this curt order, but a
beseeching look from her now thoroughly frightened guardian changed her
intention, and she rose to her feet.

"Madam, the greatest honor which it is in the power of this Empire to
bestow upon a woman has been proffered to you, and rejected with
unnecessary heat. I beg therefore, to inform you, that in the judgment
of this Court you are considered unworthy of the exalted position which,
before knowing your true character, it was intended you should fill. The
various calumnies you have poured upon the innocent head of Prince
Roland amount in effect to high treason."

"Pardon, my Lord!" cried the Archbishop of Cologne, "your contention
will hold neither in law nor in fact. High treason is an offense that
can be committed only against the realm as a whole, or against its ruler
in person. Prince Roland is not yet Emperor of Germany, and however much
we may regret the language used in his disparagement, it has arisen
through a misunderstanding quite patent to us all. A good but dreamy man
made a mistake, which, however deplorable, has been put forward with a
sincerity that none of us can question; indeed, it was the intention of
Father Ambrose to keep his supposed knowledge a secret, and you both saw
with what evident reluctance he spoke when commanded to do so by my
colleague of Treves. Whatever justice there may be in disciplining
Father Ambrose, there is none at all for exaggerated censure upon my
lady, the Countess of Sayn, and before pronouncing a further censure I
beg your Lordship to take into consideration the circumstances of the
case, by which a young girl, without any previous warning or
preparation, is called upon suddenly to make the most momentous decision
of her life. I say it is to her ladyship's credit that she refused the
highest station in the land in the interests of what she supposes to be,
however erroneously, the cause of honesty, sobriety, and, I may add, of
Christianity; qualities for which we three men should stand."

"My Lord," objected Treves, "we meet here as temporal Princes, and not
as Archbishops of the Church."

"I know that, my brother of Treves, and my appeal is to the temporal
law. Prince Roland, despite his high lineage, is merely a citizen of the
Empire, and a subject of his Majesty, the Emperor. It is therefore
impossible that the crime of treason can be committed against him."

During this protest and discussion the Elector of Mayence had leaned
back again in his usual attitude of tired indifference; his keen eyes
almost closed. When he spoke he made no reference to what either of his
two confreres had said.

"Madam," he began, without raising his voice, "it is the sentence of
this Court that you shall be imprisoned during its pleasure in the
Castle of Pfalzgrafenstein, which stands on a rock in the middle of the
Rhine. Under the guardianship of the Pfalzgraf von Stahleck, who will be
responsible for your safe keeping, I hope you will listen to the devout
counsel of his excellent wife to such effect that when next you are
privileged to meet a Court so highly constituted as this you may be
better instructed regarding the language with which it should be
addressed. You are permitted to take with you two waiting-women, chosen
by yourself from your own household, but all communication with the
outside world is forbidden. You said something to the effect that this
Court dared not pronounce such sentence against you, but if you
possessed that wisdom you so conspicuously lack, you might have surmised
that a power which ventured to imprison the future Emperor of this land
would not hesitate to place in durance a mere Countess von Sayn."

The Countess bowed her head slightly, and without protest sat down
again. The Elector of Cologne arose.

"My Lord, I raised a point of law which has been ignored."

"This is the proper time to raise it," replied Mayence, "and you shall
be instantly satisfied. This Court is competent to give its decision
upon any point of law. If my Lord of Treves agrees with me, your
objection is disallowed."

"I agree," said the Elector of Treves.

"My Lord of Cologne," said Mayence, turning towards the person
addressed, "the decision of the Court is against you."

Hildegunde was already learning a lesson. Although dazed by the verdict,
she could not but admire the quiet, conversational tone adopted by the
three men before her, as compared with her own late vehemence.

"The decision of the Court is not unexpected," said Cologne, "and I
regret that I am compelled to appeal."

"To whom will you appeal?" inquired Mayence mildly, "The Emperor, as you
know, is quite unfit for the transaction of public business, and even if
such were not the case, would hesitate to overturn a decision given by a
majority of this Court."

"I appeal," replied Cologne, "to a power that even Emperors must obey;
the power of physical force."

"You mean," said Mayence sadly, "to the three thousand men concealed in
the forest behind this house in which you are an honored guest?"

The Elector of Cologne was so taken aback by this almost whispered
remark that he was momentarily struck speechless. A sudden pallor swept
the usual ruddiness from his face. The Lord of Mayence gently inclined
his head as if awaiting an answer, and when it did not come, went on
impassively:

"I may inform you, my Lord, that my army occupies the capital city of
Frankfort, able and ready to quell any disturbance that may be caused by
the announcement of the Emperor's death, but there are still plenty of
seasoned troops ready to uphold the decisions of this Court. When your
spies scoured the country in the forests, and along the river almost to
the gates of my city of Mayence, they appeared to labor under the
illusion that I could move my soldiers only overland. Naturally, they
met no sign of such an incursion, because I had requisitioned a hundred
barges which I found empty in the river Main by Frankfort. These were
floated down the Main to Mayence, and there received their quota of a
hundred men each. The night being dark they came down the Rhine, it
seems, quite unobserved, and are now concealed in the mouth of the river
Lahn directly opposite this Castle.

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