The Prince continued to frown, yet bit his lip and repressed an angry retort.
“But,” protested the girl, “would it not be much safer for his Highness to enter the city of Frankfort protected by your army?”
The Archbishop laughed a little.
“My dear Hildegunde, the presence of Prince Roland causes you to overlook a vast difference in the status of you both, but surely the exercise of a little imagination should present to you the true aspect of affairs. You are a free woman, and I hold the document by which you regained your liberty. Do not be deluded, therefore, by the apparent fact that his Highness can raise a clenched fist aloft and defy the heavens. It is not so. He wears fetters on his ankles, and manacles round his wrists. Roland is a prisoner, and must straightway immure himself. Your Highness, before us stands the stately Castle of Sayn, where presently you shall refresh yourself, and be furnished with an untired charger, on which to ride all night, that you may reach the gates of Ehrenfels early to-morrow morning. Once there, place the wine-loving Heinrich out of harm in the deepest dungeon, and take his place as prisoner. It is arranged that the three Archbishops personally escort you to Frankfort in the barge of Mayence, which will land you at the water-steps of the Royal Palace. If it were known that I had been even an hour in your company your chances of reaching the throne would be seriously jeopardized.”
“Surely such haste is unnecessary,” cried the girl. “He can set out to-morrow in one direction while we go in another. He traveled all last night, and for most part of it was paddling a boat containing four people; has ridden almost since daylight, and now to journey on horseback throughout the night is too much for human endurance.”
The grave smile of the Archbishop shone upon her anxiety.
“For lack of a nail the shoe was lost,” he said, “and you know the remainder of the warning. If Prince Roland cares to risk an Empire for a night’s rest, I withdraw my objection.”
The Prince suddenly wheeled his horse, and coming briskly round to the side of the girl, placed a hand on hers.
“A decision, Countess!” he cried. “Give me your decision. I shall always obey you!”
“Oh, the rashness of youth!” murmured the Archbishop.