Having dressed and finished breakfast, he wrote a letter to the Archbishop of Mayence: 

“My LORD ARCHBISHOP,—­There are some important proposals which I wish to make to the Electors, and as it is an unwritten rule that I should not communicate with them separately, I beg of you to convene a meeting to-morrow, in the Wahlzimmer, at the hour of midday.  Perhaps it is permissible to add, for your own information, that while my major proposition has to do with the relief of Frankfort, the minor suggestions I shall make will have the effect of clearing away obstacles that at present obstruct your path, and I venture to think that what I say will meet with your warmest approval.”

It was so necessary that this communication should reach the Archbishop as soon as possible that Roland became his own messenger, and himself delivered the document at the Archbishop’s Palace.  As he turned away he was startled by a hand being placed on his shoulder with a weight suggesting an action of arrest rather than a greeting of friendship.  He turned quickly, and saw the Lieutenant who had so discourteously used him in the square.  There was, however, no menace in the officer’s countenance.

“Still thrusting your sword at people?”

“Yes, Lieutenant, and very harmlessly.  ’Tis a bloodless combat I wage with the sword.  I praise its construction, and leave to superiors like yourself, sir, the proving of its quality.”

“You are an energetic young man, and we of Mayence admire competence whether shown by mechanic or noble.  Was the letter you handed in just now addressed to his Lordship?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“’Twill be quite without effect.”

“It grieves me to hear you say so, sir.”

“Take my advice, and make no effort to see the Archbishop until after the Election.  I judge you to be a sane young fellow, for whom I confess a liking.  You are the only man in Frankfort who has unhesitatingly told me the exact truth, and I have not yet recovered from my amazement.  Now, when you return to your frugal room in Sachsenhausen you do not attempt to reach it by mounting the stairs with one step?”

“Naturally not, Lieutenant.”

“Very well.  When the Emperor is proclaimed, come you to me.  I’ll introduce you to my superior, and he, if impressed with your weapon, will take you a step higher, and thus you will mount until you come to an officer who may give you an astonishing order.”

“I thank you, Lieutenant, and hope later to avail myself of your kindness.”

The Lieutenant slapped him on the shoulder, and wished him good-luck.  As Roland pushed his way through the crowd, he said to himself, with a sigh: 

“I regret not being Emperor, if only for the sake of young fellows like that.”