While they were seated at the evening repast Captain Steinmetz entered and made announcement that a holy Palmer was before the gate asking admittance, saying he had news for the master of the castle.
"Where is he from? How did he get through the lines?" demanded the Count.
"I think he is from Palestine," replied Steinmetz, "and he came through the lines by permission of the Archbishops. He says he bears news to you of the Emperor."
"Of the Emperor?" ejaculated Rodolph, in amazement.
"Yes. His Majesty is fighting in the Holy Land, and I think the monk comes from him with news of his battles."
"Ah!" Rodolph looked closely at those who sat round the table, but said nothing further. Tekla gazed with interest at the captain; the Count's eyes were bent on the table, and his wife regarded his dark face timorously.
"We want no news of the Emperor's fighting," said the Count, gruffly, at last. "What matters his fighting to us? A wise man goes not abroad to deal his blows, when there are good knocks to be given in his own land. Tell the Palmer we want none of his budget."
"Not so, my uncle," cried Tekla, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm, "we are all loyal subjects of his Majesty, I hope, and I confess I should like to hear how he prospers. I beg you to admit the pious father."
"He is most likely a pious spy, sent by the connivance of the Archbishops, whose tool he is. Their Lordships desire to know how matters stand within the fortress."
"Even if that be the case," put in Rodolph, mildly, "I should be the last to baulk their curiosity. It would give me pleasure to have them know that the stout Count Heinrich is well, and has no fear of them, either separate or united. It may comfort the Archbishops to learn that we were faring generously when their envoy came upon us, and that Heinrich of Thuron thought them of so small account that he permitted a man coming from their camp and through their lines to enter his dining hall."