“Such indeed is my opinion, daughter.”

“Then is it not your duty at once to acquaint the three Archbishops with what you have already told me, so that the disaster of his election may be avoided?”

“It is a matter to which I gave deep thought during my journey thither, and I also invoked the aid of Heaven in guiding me to a just conclusion.”

“And that conclusion, Father?”

“Is to say nothing whatever about my experiences in Frankfort.”

“Why?”

“Because it is not given to a humble man like myself, occupying a position of no authority, to fathom what may be in the minds of those great Princes of the Church, the Archbishops.  In effect they rule the country, and it is possible that they prefer to place on the throne a drunken nonentity who will offer no impediment to their ambitions, rather than to elect a moral young man who might in time prove too strong for them.”

“I am sure no such motive would actuate the Archbishop of Cologne.”

“His Lordship of Cologne, my child, dare not break with their Lordships of Treves and Mayence, so you may be sure that if these two wish to elect Prince Roland Emperor, nothing I could say to the Archbishop of Cologne would prevent that choice.”

“Oh, I had forgotten, in the excitement of listening to your adventures, but talking of the Archbishop reminds me his Highness of Cologne will visit us to-morrow, and he especially wishes to see you.  You may imagine my anxiety when I received his message a few days ago, knowing nothing of your whereabouts.”

“Wishes to see me?” ejaculated Father Ambrose, wrinkling a perplexed brow.  “I wonder what for.  Can he have any knowledge of my visit to Frankfort?”

“How could he?”

“The Archbishops possess sources of enlightenment that we wot not of.  If he charges me with being absent from my post, I must admit the fact.”

“Of course.  Let me confess to him as soon as he arrives; your journey was entirely due to my persistence.  I alone am to blame.”

The old man slowly shook his head.

“I am at least equally culpable,” he said.  “I shall answer truthfully any question asked me, but I hope I am not in the wrong if I volunteer no information.”

The girl rose.

“You could do no wrong, Father, even if you tried; and now good-night. 
Sleep soundly and fear nothing.  On the rare occasions when the good
Archbishop was angry with me, I have always managed to placate him, and
I shall not fail in this instance.”

Father Ambrose bade her good-night, and left the room with the languid air of one thoroughly tired.  As the young Countess stood there watching his retreat and disappearance, her dainty little fist clenched, and her eyebrows came together, bringing to her handsome face the determined expression which marked the countenances of some of her Crusader ancestors whose portraits decorated the walls.