The girl gave an exclamation of surprise.

“To tell me?  Why should he do so?”

“I said I was not to be cross-examined any further.  I tremble now with apprehension lest I have let slip something I should not, therefore we will change the subject to one of paramount importance; namely, our midday meal.  I intended to stop at Coblentz for that repast, but the Archbishop of Treves, whose guests we are, was good enough to accept a menu I suggested, therefore we will sit at table with him.”

“You suggested a menu?”

“Yes; I hope you will approve of it.  There is some excellent Rhine salmon, with a sauce most popular in Treves, a sauce that has been celebrated for centuries.  Next some tender venison from the forest behind Stolzenfels, which is noted for its deer.  There are, beside, cakes and various breads, also vegetables, and all are to be washed down by delicate Oberweseler wine.  How does my speis-card please you, Countess?”

“I am committing it to memory, Guardian, so that I shall know what to prepare for you when next you visit my Castle of Sayn.”

“Oh, this repast is not in my honor, but in yours.  I feared you might object to the simplicity of it.  It is upon record that this meal was much enjoyed by a young lady some centuries ago, at this very Castle of Stolzenfels, shortly after it was completed.  Indeed, I think it likely she was the noble castle’s first guest.  Stolzenfels was built by Arnold von Isenberg, the greatest Archbishop that ever ruled over Treves, if I may except Archbishop Baldwin, the fighter.  Isenberg determined to have a stronghold on the Rhine midway between Mayence and Cologne, and he made it a palace as well as a fortress, taking his time about it—­in all seventeen years.  He began its erection in 1242, and so was building at the time your ancestress Matilda ceded Linz to the Archbishop of Cologne, therefore I imagine Cologne probably wished to have a stronghold within striking distance of Treves’ new castle.

“One of the first to visit Stolzenfels was a charming young English girl named Isabella, who was no other than the youngest daughter of John, King of England.  Doubtless she came here with an imposing suite of attendants, and I surmise that the great prelate’s castle saw impressive pageants and festivities, for the chronicler, after setting down the menu whose excellence I hope to test to-day, adds: 

“’They ate well, and drank better, and the Royal maiden danced a great deal.’

“Her brother then occupied the English throne.  He was Henry III., and of course much attention was paid over here to his dancing sister.”

“Why, Guardian, what you say gives a new interest to old Stolzenfels.  I have never been within the Castle, but now I shall view it with delight, wondering through which of the rooms the English Princess danced.  Why did Isabella come from England all the way to the Rhine?”

“She came to meet the three Archbishops.”