"Captain Woodville," he murmured, "pledged his solemn word to be in Czernova on the coronation eve; for, forewarned by me, he had reason to believe that the princess's crown depended upon his sword. But he has not yet appeared. His absence has something sinister in it, for it is certain that he would be here if he could. True, his presence in one sense has now become unnecessary, inasmuch as the duke being a prisoner in the Citadel will be unable to appear in the cathedral to-morrow to challenge the princess's rights, and to defy her to mortal combat by deputy. But as Woodville can know nothing of the duke's imprisonment, why does he not hasten to the supposed aid of the princess? I greatly fear that our champion is himself a prisoner."
At this point intimation was given by the chamberlain that one of Zabern's familiars, privileged to enter the palace at all hours, was in the anteroom, desirous of a word with the marshal.
Zabern withdrew from the White Saloon, and returned after a minute's absence with the tidings for which he had been waiting all day.
"Your Highness, my spy appointed to watch the cardinal in his journeying to and fro from Rome reports that his Eminence has just arrived at Slavowitz, bringing with him the papal bull which deposes the Princess of Czernova, and absolves her subjects from their allegiance."
"Say, rather, bringing with him his own death-warrant," cried Barbara, with a blaze of wrath unusual in her.
"Your Highness gives me leave to deal with the cardinal as I please," whispered Zabern, tapping the hilt of his sabre significantly.
Barbara made no reply.
The marshal interpreting her silence as consent, stole quietly from the apartment.