“May I ask you,” said Mayence, addressing Treves, “to conduct me to the flat roof of your Castle?  Will you accompany us?” he inquired of Cologne.

Cologne and Treves being for once in agreement, the latter led the way, and presently the three stood on the broad stone plateau which afforded a truly striking panorama of the Rhine.  The July sun sinking in the west transformed the river into a crimson flood, and at that height the cool evening breeze was delicious.  Cologne stood with one hand on the parapet, and gazed entranced at the scene, but the practical Mayence paid no attention whatever to it.

“Your troublesome guest, Treves, has one more request to make, which is that you order his flag hoisted to the top of that pole.”

Treves at once departed to give this command, while Cologne, with clouded brow, turned from his appreciation of the view.

“My Lord,” he said, “you have requested the raising of a signal.”

“Yes,” was the reply.

“A signal which calls your men from the Lahn to the landing at Stolzenfels?”

“Yes,” repeated Mayence.

“My Lord, I have kept my promise not only to the letter, but in the spirit as well.  My troops are marching peaceably away, and will reach their barracks some time to-morrow.  Although I exacted no promise from you, you implied there was a truce between us, and that your army, like my company, was not to be called into action of any kind.”

“Your understanding of our pact is concisely stated, even though my share in that pact remained unspoken.  A truce, did you say?  Is it not more than that?  I hoped that my seconding of the nomination you proposed proved me in complete accord with your views.”

“I am not in effect your prisoner, then?”

“Surely not; so contrary to the fact is such an assumption that I implore you to accept my hospitality.  The signal, which I see is now at the mast-head, calls for one barge only, and that contains no soldier, merely a captain and his ten stout rowers, whom you may at this moment, if you turn round, see emerging from the mouth of the Lahn.  I present to you, and to the Countess von Sayn, my Schloss of Martinsburg for as long as you may require it.  It is well furnished, well provisioned, and attended to by a group of capable servants, who are at your command.  I suggest that you cross in my barge, in company with the Countess and her kinsman, the Reverend Father.  You agree, I take it, to convoy the lady safely to her temporary restraint in Pfalz.  It was her own request, you remember.”

“I shall convoy her thither.”

“I am trusting to you entirely.  The distance is but thirteen leagues, and can be accomplished easily in a day.  Once on the other side of the river she may despatch her kinsman, or some more trustworthy messenger, to her own Castle, and thus summon the two waiting-women who will share her seclusion.”

“Is it your intention, my Lord, that her imprisonment shall—?”