"You will dismount, I trust!" he continued, as Gilbert sat steadily in his saddle.
"No! Let me pass, I entreat you!" said Gilbert, putting his horse in motion. But Henry of Stramen, with a sudden spring, caught the reins, and forced the animal well-nigh upon his haunches.
"I knew it!" cried Henry, with a bitter laugh. "You took advantage of my absence to insult my sister, but I returned too soon for your chivalry. Dismount! The truce of God covers not to-day. Dismount! Add not cowardice to deceit!"
This was more than Gilbert could bear. Quick as lightning he stood beside the challenger. It was but the work of a moment to throw off his coarse cloak and draw his sword. Having chosen his position, he awaited the assault of his adversary. Humbert looked on in breathless interest, while the two young nobles fought in the moonlight. For some minutes Gilbert maintained his ground, despite the furious efforts of his assailant. There was a strong contrast between the desperate energy of Henry and the calm courage of Gilbert. But at length the latter began to recede rapidly down a gentle slope. His antagonist recklessly pursued. The motive of Gilbert's retreat soon became evident. Henry's foot slipped on the long grass, slimy from the recent rain, and he fell at full length upon the ground. Before he could rise, Gilbert had mounted the far fleeter steed of his opponent.
"Return, coward! and see if chance will save you again!" shouted Henry, as he gained his feet.
"Your sister has saved you once, and she shall save you again!" answered
Gilbert; and, without regarding the denunciations of the knight of
Stramen, he called to Humbert, and resuming the road to Hers, was soon
out of hearing of Henry's threats.
CHAPTER VI
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half so good a grace
As mercy does.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
The sentence pronounced at Rome against Henry IV of Austria spread consternation wherever it went; the resolute prepared for instant action, and the timid looked in vain for a peaceful asylum. There could be no neutrality, since not to serve the king was to serve his antagonist. Throughout the empire the stern challenge was ringing: "Are you for the Pope or for the king?" The gay and reckless champions of the court, the knights of the house of Franconia, and many a bold adventurer, crowded around the royal banner. Many a haughty prelate, too, seduced by avarice or ambition, urged on the monarch in his mad career.