"You have had a hand in bringing me to the pass I find myself in, it is but right then that you should see me out, or further in; but right or wrong it is my intention to hold you, and if disaster comes, I shall make you bear some share in it. It is useless for me to demand ransom for you now, because if the Archbishop knock down my house he will lay hands on whatever treasure lies therein. When we come to an end of the siege then I shall compound with you on terms that may seem to me just or otherwise, depending in a measure on how you hereafter comport yourself. If you give me your word of honour that you will make no attempt to leave the castle without my permission, then I will accept it as you accepted mine yesterday, and you shall be as free as any man within the castle. If you will not give me your word then you are prisoner, and shall be treated as such; in fact, I have some men-at-arms within call who will at once convey you to the round chamber, there to rest until my contest with the Archbishop is decided."
"Then, my Lord, is your word of little value, for you promised that I should be free to pursue my way to Frankfort in the morning if the archer spared you."
"Not so. I promised you your life."
"Very well. We shall have no argument about it. I give you my word, and I swear to keep it as faithfully as you have kept yours."
Heinrich looked sternly at his guest with a suspicious expression which seemed to say: "Now what devilish double meaning is there in that?"
Up from the outside of the walls came the chorus "The Devil is black," and Rodolph smiled as the refrain broke the stillness.
"Do you mean to impugn my word?" Heinrich said aloud.
"Nothing is further from my intention. I mean to emulate it. It is my ambition to keep my word as fully as you keep yours, and you can ask no better guarantee than that, can you? The truth is I am as anxious to see the outcome of this contest as you are, and I intend to be in the thick of it. If you imprison me, the chances are that you will thrust bolt on the only man of brains in the place, not excepting your august self, for although you may be a stubborn fighter, I doubt if you know much of strategy, or can see far ahead of your prominent nose. So, my Lord, you may act as best pleases you, and call up all the men-at-arms in the castle, if their presence comforts you. If you trust me, I may, at a critical moment, be of vast assistance to you. It is even possible that should the Archbishop press you too closely, I may, by slipping out of Thuron, make way through his camp and, gathering my own men, fall on him unexpectedly from behind, thus confusing your foe. If you choose to treat me as a prisoner, then do you put your wits against mine, and you will wake up some morning to find three of your best men gone. So, my Lord, ponder on that, and lay what course you choose."
It was plain that the unready Count was baffled by the free and easy manner in which the other addressed him. The same feeling of mental inferiority which he had felt in Rodolph's presence the night before, again came over him, and, while it angered him, his caution whispered the suggestion that here was a possible ally who might in stress prove most valuable. Never had Heinrich met one apparently helpless, who seemed so careless what his jailer might think or do. The Count wished he had braved the archer's shaft, taken the risk of it, and hanged this man out of hand. However, it was too late to think of that now, and he asked, keeping control of his rising temper:
"How many men answer to your call?"