The Empress had been sitting by the table with her arm resting upon it, her fingers toying unconsciously with the knife while she spoke, and now as her remarks reached their conclusion her eyes fell upon its hilt and slender blade. With an exclamation almost resembling a scream the Empress sprang to her feet and allowed the dagger to fall clattering on the floor.
“Where did that come from?” she cried. “Is it intended for me?” and she shook her trembling hands as if they had touched a poisonous scorpion.
“Where it comes from I do not know, but it is not intended for your Majesty, as this scroll will inform you.”
Brunhilda took the parchment he offered and held it at arm’s length from her, reading its few words with dilated eyes, and Wilhelm was amazed to see in them the fear which they failed to show when she faced the three powerful Archbishops. Finally the scroll fluttered from her nerveless fingers to the floor and the Empress sank back in her chair.
“You have received two other warnings then?” she said in a low voice.
“Yes, your Majesty. What is their meaning?”
“They are the death warrants of the Fehmgerichte, a dread and secret tribunal before which even emperors quail. If you obey this mandate you will never be seen on earth again; if you disobey you will be secretly assassinated by one of these daggers, for after ignoring the third warning a hundred thousand such blades are lying in wait for your heart, and ultimately one of them will reach it, no matter in what quarter of Germany you hide yourself.”
“And who are the members of this mysterious association, your Majesty?
“That, you can tell as well as I, better perhaps, for you may be a member while I cannot be. Perhaps the soldier outside this door belongs to the Fehmgerichte, or your own Chamberlain, or perhaps your most devoted lieutenant, the lusty Gottlieb.”
“That, your Majesty, I’ll swear he is not, for he was as amazed as I when he saw the dagger at the barracks.”