All this passed through the mind of Mayence, and his decision had been arrived at before Treves recovered his composure.
“It gives me great pleasure,” said the Elector of Mayence, firmly suppressing the malignancy of his glance towards the man seated on his left,—“it gives me very great pleasure indeed to second so admirable a nomination, the more so that I am thus permitted to offer my congratulations to an esteemed colleague and a valued friend. My Lord of Treves, I trust that you will make this nomination unanimous, for, to my delight, his Lordship of Cologne anticipated, by a few moments the proposal I was about to submit to you.”
“My Lord,” stammered Treves, finding his voice with difficulty, “I—I—of course will agree to whatever the Court decides. I—I thank you, my Lord, and you too, my brother of Cologne.”
“Then,” cried Mayence, almost joyfully, “the task for which we are convened is accomplished, and I declare this Court adjourned.”
He rose from his chair. The overjoyed Prince at his right took no thought of the fact that their chairman had not called upon the lady that she might receive the decision of the conclave and answer the questions to be put to her, but Cologne perceived the omission, and knew that from that moment Mayence would set his subtility at work to nullify the nomination. Even though his bombshell had not exploded, and the two other Electors were apparently greater friends than ever, Cologne had achieved his immediate object, and was satisfied.
Through the open windows came the sound of the steady tramping of disciplined men, and the metallic clash of armor and arms in transit.
“Ah, now,” cried Mayence, “we will enjoy the advantage of reviewing the brave troops of Cologne. Lead the way, my Lord of Treves. You know the Castle better than we do.”
The proud Treves, treading on air, guided his guests to the northern balcony.