A crowd of citizens dressed in holiday attire, was assembled upon the main road leading from Saint Angelo to the Basilica of St. Peter. The settled gloom of their features contrasted strikingly with their brilliant costume, and as they glanced towards the castle, where had stood formerly the statue of St. Michael, they shook their heads and sighed.
"Saint Michael has protected us for centuries," said an old man, "but he has disappeared now! May God have mercy on us!"
"You are alarmed at nothing, Master Bartholomew," replied his friend Anselm; "you know that metals attract the lightning, and as the statue was of gilded bronze, it could scarcely escape the fluid at that exposed point."
"You are very wise, Anselm," resumed the first speaker; "but the statue has stood there unhurt during all the storms of five hundred years! not one had power against it until the eve of our reception of this schismatical Emperor!"
"It is nothing but the merest chance!"
"Take care, Bartholomew," added a third, "the Emperor has hosts of friends, and it might be dangerous to speak against him."
"I am certain that chance has had nothing to do with it!--I take care! Anselm, do you think that an old man of eighty-seven years of age is afraid to speak the truth? Yes, Barbarossa is a schismatic, he is the scourge of the Church. He will bring bad luck to Rome, and I know there are many who think as I do, but have not courage enough to express their opinion!--Look how money has been lavished here for the last four weeks! but see if the gold and the treason which it purchased do not burn those who are guilty!"
And Bartholomew started off again in the direction of the Castle of Saint Angelo.
"He is right in the main," said Gervase; "not a man in Rome has a doubt who is the lawful Pope, but what could we do? the terrible Barbarossa would have demolished Rome, as he did Milan, without the slightest scruple."
"Certainly he would," replied Anselm.