"Surely, surely," cried von Hochstaden, "and that at once. My Lord of Treves, it is your men who compose the line near the village, therefore I beseech you to give the order. I would immediately give it myself," he added, turning to von Brunfels, "but I have little authority in the camp, and I might not be obeyed. If your laden horses will approach the castle from the other side, I will bestow instruction upon my Captain there to permit them to pass."
The Archbishop of Treves looked on in sullen silence and made no observation, but neither did he take the action required of him. A messenger entered breathless with the news that a force flying the imperial flag had broken the line near the village, and that a convoy of burdened animals was now mounting the slope towards the gates of the castle. The Archbishop of Cologne wrung his hands, and, almost on the verge of tears, bemoaned the unfortunate occurrence, calling on Heaven and all present to witness that he was not the cause of it. The impassive mask of the Archbishop of Treves gave no indication regarding the nature of the thoughts that were passing through his mind.
"My Lords," said von Brunfels impressively, "whoever is to blame, the action I feared has taken place, while we were wasting precious moments in useless talk. The second part of my mission is still to be accomplished, and I wish it a better ending than that which has attended the first. I command you, in the name of the Emperor, to appear together before him at high noon in the royal tent now erected on this plain. You will come prepared to answer truthfully all questions put to you, and his Majesty will listen patiently to whatever explanation you are pleased to offer for your grave infraction of the Feudal Law. I entreat you to believe that nothing but instant and abject submission will be of avail."
"His Majesty shall have it from me," earnestly alleged the Archbishop of Cologne.
The Archbishop of Treves made no comment, but gravely inclined his head, as the envoy of the Emperor took his departure.
CHAPTER XLI. "WHY HAVE YOU DARED TO LEVY WAR?"
Large as was the tent of the Archbishops, it could not compare in size or splendour with the imperial pavilion. This canopy was not square like the shelter of their august Lordships, but oval in shape, and over its peaked roof flew the great standard which signified not only that the erection stood on imperial soil, but also indicated the personal presence of the Emperor under its folds. For the time being, that pavilion was the capital of the land. In it were collected the head of the State and his favoured councillors.
At each of the numerous stakes which held in place the many ropes supporting the roof, stood a soldier, his tall weapon perpendicular beside him, and these lances, on whose glittering points the high sun sparkled, formed a palisade around the tent. Approach to the royal pavilion was only possible down a long avenue composed of mounted men, who sat impassive in two extended lines under the hot sun.