“Oh! my Lord,” said Jerome, “is my honesty the price I must pay for this dear youth’s safety?”
“For me!” cried Theodore. “Let me die a thousand deaths, rather than stain thy conscience. What is it the tyrant would exact of thee? Is the Princess still safe from his power? Protect her, thou venerable old man; and let all the weight of his wrath fall on me.”
Jerome endeavoured to check the impetuosity of the youth; and ere Manfred could reply, the trampling of horses was heard, and a brazen trumpet, which hung without the gate of the castle, was suddenly sounded. At the same instant the sable plumes on the enchanted helmet, which still remained at the other end of the court, were tempestuously agitated, and nodded thrice, as if bowed by some invisible wearer.
CHAPTER III.
Manfred’s heart misgave him when he beheld the plumage on the miraculous casque shaken in concert with the sounding of the brazen trumpet.
“Father!” said he to Jerome, whom he now ceased to treat as Count of Falconara, “what mean these portents? If I have offended—” the plumes were shaken with greater violence than before.
“Unhappy Prince that I am,” cried Manfred. “Holy Father! will you not assist me with your prayers?”
“My Lord,” replied Jerome, “heaven is no doubt displeased with your mockery of its servants. Submit yourself to the church; and cease to persecute her ministers. Dismiss this innocent youth; and learn to respect the holy character I wear. Heaven will not be trifled with: you see—” the trumpet sounded again.
“I acknowledge I have been too hasty,” said Manfred. “Father, do you go to the wicket, and demand who is at the gate.”
“Do you grant me the life of Theodore?” replied the Friar.