Frankfort was transformed as if a magician had waved his wand over it.  The streets swarmed with people.  Farmers’ vehicles of every description added to the confusion, and Roland frowned as he noticed how badly organized had been the preparations for coping with this sudden influx of food, but he also saw that the men of Mayence had taken a hand in the matter, and were rapidly bringing method out of chaos.  The uniforms of Cologne or Treves were seldom seen, while the quiet but firm soldiers of Mayence were everywhere ordering to their homes those already served, and clearing the way for the empty-handed.

At last Roland reached the Palace of Cologne, through a square thronged with people.  Within he found his mother and the Countess, seated in a room whose windows overlooked the square, watching the stirring scene presented to them.  Having saluted his mother, he greeted the girl with a quiet pressure of the hand.

“What is the cause of all this commotion?” asked the Empress.

Roland tapped his breast.

“I am the cause, mother,” and he related the history of the relief committee, and if appreciation carries with it gratification, his was the advantage of knowing that the two women agreed he was the most wonderful of men.

“But indeed, mother,” continued Roland, “I selfishly rob you of the credit.  The beginning of all this was really your gift to me of five hundred thalers, that time I came to crave your assistance in procuring me this document I still carry, and without your thalers and the parchment, this never could have happened.  So you see they have increased like the loaves and fishes of Holy Writ, and thus feed the multitude.”

Her Majesty arose, smiling.

“Ah, Roland,” she said, kissing him, “you always gave your mother more credit than she deserved.  It wrung my heart at the time that I was so scant of money.”  Then, pleading fatigue, the Empress left the room.

“Hilda!” cried the young man, “when you and I discuss things, those things become true.  Yesterday we agreed that the Imperial throne was not so enviable a seat as a chair by the domestic hearth.  To-day I propose to secure the chair at the hearth, and to-morrow I shall freely give up the Imperial throne.”

The girl uttered an exclamation that seemed partly concurrence and partly dismay, but she spoke no word, gazing at him intently as he strode up and down the room, and listening with eagerness.  Walking backwards and forwards, looking like an enthusiastic boy, he very graphically detailed the situation as he had learned it from Greusel.

“Now you see, my dear, any opposition to the Archbishop of Mayence means a conflict, and supposing in that conflict our friends were to win, the victory would be scarcely less disastrous than defeat.  I at once made up my mind, fortified by my knowledge of your opinion on the subject, that for all the kingships in the world I could not be the cause of civil dissension.”