Part 19 (1/2)
This command was so promptly obeyed that Wilhelm could scarcely believe they had won so easily to the outer air. The house stood alone on the bank of the river at the end of a long garden which extended to the road. Facing the thoroughfare and partly concealing the house from any chance straggler was a low building which Wilhelm remembered was used as a wayside drinking-place, in which wine, mostly of a poor quality, was served to thirsty travellers. The gate to the street appeared deserted, but as the two approached by the walk leading from the house, a guard stood out from the shadow of the wall, scrutinised for a moment their appearance, then saluting, held the gate open for them.
Once on the road, the two turned towards the city, whose black wall barred their way some distance ahead, and whose towers and spires stood out dimly against the starlit sky. A great silence, broken only by the soothing murmur of the river, lay on the landscape. Wilhelm cast a glance aloft at the star-sprinkled dome of heaven, and said:
”I judge it to be about an hour after midnight.”
”It may be so,” answered the Emperor, ”I have lost all count of time.
”Has your Majesty been long in prison?”
”That I do not know. I may have lain there two days or a dozen. I had no means of measuring the length of my imprisonment.”
”May I ask your Majesty in what manner you were lured into the halls of the Fehmgerichte?”
”It was no lure. While I lay asleep at night in the cloisters by the Cathedral I was bound and gagged, carried through the dark streets helpless on a litter and finally flung into the cell in which you found me.”
”May I further inquire what your Majesty's intentions are regarding the fulfilment of the duties imposed upon you by your high office?”
There was a long pause before the Emperor replied, then he said:
”Why do you ask?”
”Because, your Majesty, I have on several occasions imperilled my life for an Emperor who does not rule, who has refused even to sign my commission as officer of his troops.”
”Your commission was never sent to me.”
”I beg your Majesty's pardon, but it was sent three times to you in the cloisters of the Cathedral, and returned three times unsigned.”
”Then it is as I suspected,” returned the Emperor, ”the monks must have connived at my capture. I have pleasure in confirming your appointment.
I am sure that the command could not be in more capable hands. And in further reply to your question, if G.o.d permits me to see the light of day, I shall be an emperor who rules.”
”It delights my heart to hear you say so. And now I ask, as a favour, that you allow me to deal untrammelled with the Fehmgerichte.”
”I grant that most willingly.”
By this time they were almost under the shadow of the great wall of the city, and Wilhelm, stopping, said to the Emperor:
”I think it well that we now divest ourselves of these disguises.”
They had scarcely thrown their cloaks behind the bushes at the side of the road when they were accosted by the guard at the top of the wall.
”Halt! Who approaches the gate?”
Wilhelm strode forward.
”Is Gottlieb at the guard-house or at the barracks?” he asked.
”He is at the guard-house,” replied the sentinel, recognising the questioner.
”Then arouse him immediately, and open the gates.”