“Hilda, will you marry me in spite of the Archbishops?”
“Roland, will you forego kingship for my sake?”
“Yes; a thousand times yes!”
“You said ‘For the Empress; not for the Empire,’ but if I am no Empress, you will as cheerfully wed me?”
“Yes.”
“Then I say yes!”
He caught her in his arms, and they floated into the heaven of their first kiss, an ecstatic melting together. Suddenly she drew away from him.
“There is some one coming,” she whispered.
“Nothing matters now,” said Roland breathlessly. “There is no one in the world to-day but you and me.”
Hildegunde drew her hands down her cheeks, as if to brush away their tell-tale color and their warmth.
“’Tis like,” said Roland, “that you marry a poor man.”
“Nothing matters now,” she repeated, laughing tremulously. “I am said to be the richest woman in Germany. I shall build you a forge and enlist myself your apprentice. We will paint over the door ’Herr Roland and wife; sword makers.’”
Two men appeared at the end of the alley, and stood still; the one with a frown on his brow, the other with a smile on his lips.
“Oh!” whispered the Countess, panic striking from her face the color that her palms had failed to remove, “the Archbishop and the Count Palatine!”
His Lordship strode forward, followed more leisurely by the smiling Count.
“Prince Roland,” said Cologne, “I had not expected this after our conference of last night.”
“I fail to understand why, my Lord, when my parting words were ’Tell your porter to let me in without parley.’ That surely indicated an intention on my part to visit the Palace.”
“Your Highness knows that so far as I am concerned you are very welcome, and always shall be so, but at this juncture there are others to consider.”
Roland interrupted.
“Read this letter, my Lord, and you will learn that I am here with the full concurrence of that generous Prince of the Church, Mayence.”
Cologne, with knitted brow, scrutinized the communication.
“Your Highness is most courageous, but, if I may be permitted, just a trifle too clever.”
“My Highness is not clever at all, but merely meets a situation as it arises.”
“Prince Roland,” said the Countess, her head raised proudly, “may I introduce to you my friend, and almost my neighbor, the Count Palatine of the Rhine?”
“Ah, pardon me,” murmured the Archbishop, covered with confusion, but the jovial Count swept away all embarrassment by his hearty greeting.
“Prince Roland, I am delighted with the honor her ladyship accords me.”
“And I, my Lord, am exceedingly gratified to meet the Count Palatine again.”
“Again?” cried the Count in astonishment, “If ever we had encountered one another, your Highness, I certainly should not have been the one to forget the privilege.”