"You have used deceit, and not I," said the Archbishop of Cologne. "You said this siege would last but a short time, while at the end of two years we are no nearer the possession of the castle than when we began."
"We are two years nearer," replied the Lord of Treves, calmly, "but I made no predictions regarding the length of the siege when it began. The bloodless environment of the castle was your plan, and not mine. I had little belief in your method, and have less now, but I fell in with it to please you, and I regret to find that after two years' constant endeavour to meet your approval, I have apparently failed. But, although I may have hopes of saintship being the reward of my life-long patience and moderation, I have never pretended to the mantle of a prophet; therefore, I hazarded no opinion with reference to the duration of the siege."
"You said Heinrich of Thuron was but imperfectly provisioned; that he did not have time to fill his castle with grain. In that you must admit you were wrong."
"We are fallible creatures, my Lord, which statement I make in all deference, willing instantly to withdraw it, if you object to being placed in a category in which I am compelled to include myself. I formed an opinion of the Black Count's resources from reports brought to me. These reports apparently contained mis-statements; therefore my deductions from them were wrong. In that there was error of judgment, but you spoke of wilful deceit—an entirely different matter, and a mistake on your part for which you are, doubtless, eagerly waiting opportunity to apologise."
"No apology is due from me. In spite of your verbal trickery, I have been deluded and cozened from the first; that I say, and that I adhere to. Still, of what avail is talk——"
"True, true," murmured Arnold, gently. "You were ever a man of action, my Lord."
"I shall be a man of action now; I have been too long quiescent!" cried von Hochstaden, again half-drawing his sword and springing to his feet with a celerity that might not have been expected from one who had had the flagon so constantly under tribute. "I shall now leave this camp and bring with me every officer and man that is mine. They are as weary of this business as I am, and will be glad to follow. You may then get others to be your dupes."
Count Bertrich, who had with difficulty kept his hot temper in hand during this dialogue, now leaped upright, and flashing out the sword that was by his side, smote the table with the hilt of it, as he shouted:
"My Lord of Cologne, twice you have made a feeble attempt to draw your reluctant weapon; if you had kept your eyes on me you would have seen how easily the trick is done. My over-lord does not choose to chastise you for your insolence to him, but I would have you know there are good blades here ready to meet those of your men, the moment he gives the signal. If you want to appeal to the sword, in God's name have the courage to draw it; if you rest on argument and reason, then keep your seat and address my Lord of Treves with that respect which his position as Prince of the Church demands."