"I will take your word, my Lord, so that it includes us all, especially the archer, and stands also for the good conduct of your men."
"My men will not lay finger on you with safe conduct from me. I give you, then, my word that you pass on unscathed to Frankfort. Does that suffice?"
"It does, my Lord. Archer, unbend your bow."
The archer, with a sigh, lowered his weapon, but apparently had no such trust as Rodolph, for he still kept the arrow on the string. Captain Steinmetz looked shrewdly at his master, as if inquiring "Does this hold?" but he met only a lowering frown and a sharp command to betake himself to the courtyard and disband his men.
A bugle at that instant sounded outside, and the captain presently returned to announce that Count Bertrich was without, and demanded instant audience in the name of the Archbishop of Treves.
"Demands, does he? Let him wait until I am ready to receive him," replied the swarthy Count. Then, turning to a servitor, he commanded him to ask the attendance of his lady.
Heinrich continued his pacing of the room, which he had abandoned when the Emperor and those with him had entered. Moodiness sat on his brow, and he spoke to none; all within the apartment maintained silence. Presently there entered, dressed in deep black, a thin, sallow lady of dejected appearance, who probably had none too easy or pleasant a life of it with her masterful husband.
Heinrich stood, and without greeting said:
"This is my niece, Tekla of Treves, now on her way to Frankfort. She will rest here to-night, so I place her in your care."
When the ladies had departed the Count ordered that Conrad and the archer should have refreshment, then turning to Rodolph, he said: