"You are versed in the manners of Treves," said the Emperor, "knowing all of note within its walls—what think you then is going forward at the gate? Is it well for us to attempt entrance now, or are we more likely to pass unnoticed in the press?"
"It is probable that the Archbishop and his train are about to pass outward to his villa or water palace, as some call it. He travels in state, and there are always many onlookers."
"Where is his water palace?"
"On the Moselle, near Zurlauben, a short half-hour's ride from the gate."
"This then gives us excellent opportunity of seeing Arnold von Isenberg, Archbishop of Treves, ourselves unseen in the throng. Shall we wait his coming outside or inside the gate?"
"We were better outside, I think, for then we may enter unquestioned with the press of people when the show is over."
Thus the two horsemen ranged themselves by the side of the road with others also on horseback, merchants, travellers, messengers and the like, while the crowd on foot shifted here and there to find standing room that commanded a view. Mounted men-at-arms rode hither and thither, roughly keeping the way clear and the mob in check, buffeting with their pike-handles those who were either reluctant or slow to move. The clattering of horses' shod hoofs on the stone-paved narrow street within the gate announced the coming of the cortège.
"Off with your hat, fellow," cried one of the men-at-arms, raising his pike. "His Lordship, the Archbishop, comes."
Rodolph's quick hand sought his sword-hilt, but a touch on his arm from his comrade recalled him to a sense of his position. He changed the downward motion of his hand to an upward one, and speedily doffed his cap, seeing now that every one else was uncovered, for the haughty Archbishop allowed no disrespect abroad when he took an airing.