MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

The sentence pronounced at Rome against Henry IV of Austria spread consternation wherever it went; the resolute prepared for instant action, and the timid looked in vain for a peaceful asylum.  There could be no neutrality, since not to serve the king was to serve his antagonist.  Throughout the empire the stern challenge was ringing:  “Are you for the Pope or for the king?” The gay and reckless champions of the court, the knights of the house of Franconia, and many a bold adventurer, crowded around the royal banner.  Many a haughty prelate, too, seduced by avarice or ambition, urged on the monarch in his mad career.

But the enterprise of Rodolph and the Lord of Hers had been most happily timed, and the chivalry of Suabia were prepared to follow their martial duke at a moment’s warning.  That warning followed shortly after the date of the last chapter.  Gilbert had gained his chamber as the morn was breaking, and had hardly time to review the exciting events of the night, before an attendant announced his father’s arrival.  The Lord of Hers had reached Zurich on his return, just as the tidings from Rome had been received; and without pausing an instant, he hurried across the lake to convey the intelligence to the King of Arles.  The baron was himself too much excited with the momentous results at last developed, and the still more momentous sequel already shadowed forth in the uncertain future, to remark the nervous and somewhat jaded appearance of his son.  His first words, after hastily embracing Gilbert, were: 

“Where is the duke?”

“At Stramen Castle,” replied the youth.

“When did he arrive?”

“Last night,” answered Gilbert, without reflecting that he was, as effectually as possible, giving his father a clue to his hare-brained expedition with Humbert.  It was well for him that the baron was too well satisfied with the information to inquire how it had been obtained; for, incapable of deceiving his parent, he would have been compelled, very reluctantly, to submit a brief account of his connection with Ailred of Zurich, the minnesinger.  A chilly anticipation of the question struck him, just as the words escaped his lips, and his cheek tingled as the blood came creeping against it.  But, to his great relief, his father, without noticing his confusion, turned to a soldier who stood behind him, and thus addressed him: 

“Mount your best horse and ride for life and limb to Stramen Castle!  Here!” continued the baron, taking a fold of parchment from his breast, as the man, prompt to obey without question or hesitation, bowed and was going; “this for his highness, the King of Arles.  Guard it with your life from the enemies of the duke, and if you meet the serfs of Stramen, proclaim your errand.  Away! spare neither spur nor rein!” cried the knight, as the man dashed fearlessly down the hill.