The evening star was shining serenely on the horizon when the Emperor completed his plans. He determined there should be no further delay. What was to be done must be done quickly. He went to his son, Frederick of Swabia, frankly laid his plans before him, assigned him to the chief command of the army, and requested him to keep his absence a secret, so that it should not have a disquieting effect upon the army. If he did not return in three days he instructed him to attack the Turkish castle by the sea with all his strength, and look for him there.
Night had enveloped the city in thick darkness when the Emperor, disguised in plain costume, passed through the gate leading to the south. With his armor and cloak securely packed upon his horse, he rode through the ranks of the sleeping army. Now and then a sentinel challenged him, but he was not halted as he well knew the watchword. He had very wisely selected one of those horses which could be relied upon to cover a long distance in a short time, and which in battle were accustomed to carry heavy armor in case their riders were exhausted.
Reaching the open country, the noble animal flew along with the ease and speed characteristic of Oriental steeds. There was no obstruction in his way, no enemy in sight. They seemed to have vanished as completely as if the wind had swept them away. His way now stretched over luxurious grassy plains, now through gloomy mountain forests. Many miles lay behind him, but his steed seemed as fresh as at the start, and the Emperor himself was but little wearied. The fresh night air, the pleasure of the ride, and the thought that at last he would redeem his word inspired him with more enthusiasm than he had felt at any time since the loss of the boys. He rode to face danger as exultantly as if he were faring to a tournament.
In the early gray of the morning the Emperor came to a solitary fisherman’s hut, which showed no sign of life within. Evidently it was either deserted or its owner was sleeping. He was now sure he was in the vicinity of the castle. He knocked at the door and waited long for admission. He soon grew impatient and had just decided to break down the weak door and wait inside until daylight; or if he found the occupant had been afraid to open it, to take him along as a guide. A person looked out of the little window, but instantly drew back as if in fear when he saw the knight. Frederick espied him and demanded admission.
After considerable delay the fisherman opened the door. He suddenly appeared to have recovered from his fright, for he received the knight very hospitably, brought him food, placed it upon the table, and begged his guest to partake. “I would gladly offer you more, brave knight; but I am poor, and this is all I have.”
“Make no excuses, my good man,” replied Frederick. “I am not so satiated that I need to have luxuries. I have been living on simple fare for several days, and have become quite accustomed to it.”
“Are the Christians reduced to their old straits again?” asked the fisherman.
“Yes, thanks to the Greeks and Turks. They have proved alike unfaithful. Your Greek Christians have broken their word again, and would have been open enemies had they not been afraid of the brave Germans. Your master, the Sultan, has been worse than any of them.”
“But his subjects ought not to be held responsible for his offences. They say your Emperor is a powerful sovereign, but mild and conciliatory also.”
“If you had been with him daily you could not have described him more accurately, but neither your people nor your Sultan should presume upon his gentle disposition too far. It has bounds. The entire country is now subdued. The enemy has fled, and the Sultan has taken refuge in his castle by the sea. Tell me, do you know anything about that place?”