"What is your situation now," rejoined the missionary, "that you have anything else to expect than defeat and disgrace? You know the emperor—you have seen his dauntless courage, his consummate skill, his desperate resolution. You know that he is at the head of an army more numerous and better disciplined than your own. And you must also clearly foresee that if the Pope—as he certainly will—shall condemn the policy of his legates, your efforts will want the principle of life which alone can bless them with success."
"If the prospect now is bad," said Rodolph, solemnly, "delay can only make it worse. And I believe that, could His Holiness see what is evident to us, he would command me to accept the crown, and place it with his own hands upon my head."
"You are mistaken—wofully mistaken, my lord. While a hope of averting anarchy and civil war remains, Gregory will not adopt the surest means of inflicting both. Trust in God for the future! Do not pursue what to the mole-blind vision of humanity seems expedient, when certain bloodshed is the result! Humble yourself before Him who alone can exalt and lay low! Confide in the efficacy of prayer! Think not that God will desert His Church or her champions!"
"I do trust in the future," answered the duke, "but not until I have embraced what reason dictates for the present."
"Do you hold your reason more enlightened than that of His Holiness?"
"He cannot see what I see. Urge me no more! It is too late to recede. I know well what dangers I incur by accepting the crown—and what disgrace I should earn in refusing it. Did I consult my inclinations, I should renounce the glittering ornament: but I will not have men to point at me covertly, and say, 'He faltered!' I will not endanger the noble barons who have devoted themselves to my advancement. If I have sinned in alluring them thus far, I will not deepen my guilt by betraying them. Though I knew that the crown which I am about to assume were like the gift of Medea, I would still set it on my temples: better pay the penalty of ambition by advancing than by timidly retreating, when boldness may remedy, and retreat is certain death!"
The tread of armed men was heard along the passage, and immediately afterward the Count Mangold entered the room.
"The diet awaits your highness' answer," he said, bowing deeply to the duke.
"I will follow you," said Rodolph, "and deliver it in person." Saying this, he strode proudly from the room, preceded by the count and his attendants.
As the door closed behind them, Father Omehr fell upon his knees. He knelt there with the tears streaming down his pale cheeks and his hands clasped in prayer, until a long loud shout announced Rodolph's acceptance. Then the trumpets' merry notes, mingled with the joyful clang of arms, went up to heaven together with the missionary's sighs. Father Omehr appeared scarcely to hear the martial revelry, but as the tumult increased, he rose and glided from the room.