A great concourse of people greeted their arrival at Coblentz, and if vociferous shouts and hurrahs are signs of popularity, the Archbishop had reason to congratulate himself upon his reception.  The prelate bowed and smiled, but did not pause at Coblentz, and, to the evident disappointment of the multitude, continued his way up the Rhine.  When the little cavalcade drew away from the mob, the Countess spoke: 

“I had no thought,” she said, “that Coblentz contained so many inhabitants.”

“Neither does it,” replied the Archbishop.

“Then is this simply an influx of people from the country, and is the conclave of the Archbishops of such importance that it draws so many sightseers?”

“The Court held by the Archbishops on this occasion is very important.  I suspect, however, that those are no sightseers, for the general public is quite unaware that we meet to-day.  They who cheered so lustily just now are, I think, men of Treves.”

“Do you mean soldiers?”

“Aye.  Soldiers in the dress of ordinary townsmen, but I dare say they all know where to find their weapons should a war-cry arise.”

“Do you imply that the Archbishop of Treves has broken his compact?  I understood that your escort was limited to the few men following you.”

His Lordship laughed.

“The Archbishop of Treves,” he said, “is not a great strategist, yet I surmise he is ready in case of trouble to seize the city of Coblentz.”

“What trouble could arise?”

“The present moment is somewhat critical, for the Emperor lies dying in Frankfort.  We three Electors hope to avoid all commotion by having our plans prepared and acting upon them promptly.  But the hours between the death of an Emperor and the appointment of his successor are fateful with uncertainty.  I suppose the good Sisters at Nonnenwerth taught you about the Election of an Emperor?”

“Indeed, Guardian, I am sorry to confess that if they did I have forgotten all about it.”

“There are seven Electors; four high nobles of the Empire and three Archbishops, Lords Temporal and Lords Spiritual.  The present Count Palatine of the Rhine is, like my friend Treves, completely under the dominion of the Archbishop of Mayence, so the three Lords Spiritual, with the aid of the Count Palatine, form a majority of the Electoral Court.”

“I understand.  And now I surmise that you assemble at Stolzenfels to choose our future Emperor.”

“No; he has already been chosen, but his name will not be announced to any person save one before the Emperor dies.”

“Doubtless that one is the Count Palatine.”

“No, Countess, he remains ignorant; and I give you warning, Madam, I am not to be cross-questioned by indirection.  You should be merciful:  I am but clay in your hands, yet there is certain information I am forbidden to impart, so I will merely say that if the Archbishop happens to be in good-humor this afternoon, he is very likely to tell you who will be the future Emperor.”