“I answered that it did not matter at all, but desired him to order my wrists released, which was done.”

“I must say,” commented Roland, “that the Archbishop of Mayence is well served by his officers.  Your examiner was a wise man.”

“Yes,” replied Greusel, “but nevertheless, I am telling my story here in Frankfort.”

“No difference for that, because, as I have said, we can do nothing.  Still, it is a blessing your examiner could not guess what you overheard in the other tent.  He let you go thinking you had seen and learned nothing, and in doing so warded off a search party to-morrow.”

XXI

A SECRET MARRIAGE

Blessed is he that expects nothing, for he shall not be disappointed.  Roland walked with Greusel across the bridge and through the streets to the entrance of the Rheingold, and there stopped.

“I shall not go down with you,” he said.  “You have given me much to think of, and I am in no mood for a hilarious meeting.  Indeed, I fear I should but damp the enthusiasm of the lads.  Continue your good work to-morrow, and report to me at my room.”

With this Roland bade Greusel good-night and turned away.  He walked very slowly as far as the bridge, and there, resting his arms on the parapet, looked down at the dark water.  He was astonished to realize how little he cared about giving up the Emperorship, and he recalled, with a glow of delight, his recent talk in the garden with Hildegunde, and her assurance that she lacked all ambition to become the first lady in the land so long as they two spent their lives together.

The bells of Frankfort tolling the hour of ten aroused him from his reverie, and brought down his thoughts from delicious dreams of romance to realms of reality.  The precious minutes were passing over his head swiftly as the drops of water beneath his feet.  There was little use of feeding Frankfort if it must be given over to fire and slaughter.

With a chill of apprehension he reviewed the cold treachery of Mayence, willing to levy the horrors of civil war upon an already stricken city so long as his own selfish purposes were attained.

“And yet,” he said to himself, “there must be good in the man.  I wish I knew his history.  Perhaps he had to fight for every step he has risen in the world.  Perhaps he has been baffled and defeated by deception; overcome by chicanery until his faith died within him.  My faith would die within me were it not that when I meet a Mayence I encounter also the virtue of a Cologne, and the bluff honesty of a Count Palatine.  How marvelous is this world, where the trickery of a Kurzbold and a Gensbein is canceled by the faithfulness unto death of a Greusel and an Ebearhard!  Thus doth good balance evil, and then—­and then, how Heaven beams upon earth in the angel glance of a good woman.  God guide me aright!  God guide me aright!” he repeated fervently, “and suppress in me all anger and uncharitableness.”