At this wild cheers burst from the men of Treves. Each warrior stood up, and there was a bristling hedge of swords held in the air above their heads. The men of Cologne rose also, but hesitatingly, not actuated by the instantaneous impulse which brought such quick action into play on the other side of the table. The Archbishop of Treves alone remained seated, a cynical smile parting his lips. He raised his hand as if to pronounce benediction, and by a slight motion of it, soothed and quelled the disturbance in a manner almost magical. The swords, seemingly of their own accord, returned to their scabbards, and one by one the wearers seated themselves.
"You see, my Lord," he said, in a low voice, "how quickly a bad example influences those who look on. Your hand to the hilt brought steel into view even before a good half of your own formidable weapon was visible. My trusty captain has asked you, with all a soldier's bluntness, which a champion like yourself will be first to excuse, to be seated. May I, in the utmost humility, associate myself with his desire? The sword, alas, has its uses, still it is but a cumbrous instrument at a dinner table. You were speaking, I think, of withdrawing your men, but in the tumult, I fear, I missed your peroration."
Cologne thrust his weapon back into its scabbard, but he nevertheless remained standing.
"If the tongue were a weapon——"
"It is, in a measure."
"—I would grant that you are master of it," said von Hochstaden.
"I thank you for the compliment, and its generosity gives me hope that we are about to come to an amicable understanding."
"We have already come to an understanding, and if you consider it amicable, the better am I pleased. To-night I withdraw my troops."
"And why?"
"The reasons I have already set down in my communication to you at Treves."