"I thank your Lordship," said the man, taking the money with great readiness, "this is more to my liking than offers of cudgelling."
"And when you hear that the Emperor has returned to Frankfort I would strongly advise you to go thither, for he is a lover of good qualities wherever found. As for the offer of cudgelling, 'twas but a jest, or at most the outcome of the delay of our custodian."
"Here he is," said the Baron. "I think he will speedily regret his absence."
Across the moonlit river, in a small boat that drifted sideways rapidly in the swift current, a man rowed with sturdy strokes. The two who awaited him stood silently on the bank and watched his approach. The archer had already seated himself with his back to the wall, and was snatching a moment's repose.
As the boatman ceased rowing and allowed his craft to float down to its harbour, the Baron said sternly:
"Get inside as speedily as you may and undo the door. Then I will have a word with you."
A few moments later there was a rattle of chains and bolts, the door was thrown open, and gave the visitors a glimpse of a young man with white face and trembling limbs.
CHAPTER III
LISTENERS HEAR LITTLE GOOD OF THEMSELVES
"Come, archer," said the Baron, "arouse yourself. I have work for you to do."
"Not before the meal, I hope," objected the man, rising to his feet.
"Yes; but it will not detain you long, and the supper shall be spread before your sight, to quicken your hand."
They entered a lower room, long and narrow, meagrely furnished, containing a rough table thrust against the wall next the river, with two benches, on one of which the Emperor seated himself. The trap-door by which the man had ascended was still open and the gurgling sound of flowing water came up. The hound crouched in a corner, and eyed the visitors with lips drawn back from his teeth, uttering a low growl, as if he did not like the situation so suddenly presented to him. The man who was the cause of it all, liked it even less, and stood dumb, as one paralysed with fright.
"Close the trap-door," said the Baron, shortly. The man obeyed the order.
"Set a light in the upper window toward Treves."
The servant disappeared up a ladder, set the light, and returned.
"Place on the table supper for one, and a large flagon of wine."
When this was accomplished, the servant, who had throughout spoken no word, moving mechanically to and fro like one walking in a dream, stood once more before his angry master.
"Take your place with your back against that wall."
The man, breathing hard, but still silent, stood up at the end of the room, his wide eyes fastened in a hypnotism of fear on his master.
"Now, archer, I am ready. Notch a shaft on your string and pin me this deserter though the heart to the wall."
The archer, whose eyes had been riveted on the viands set on the table, impatiently waiting the word to set to, withdrew them with reluctance and turned them towards the victim who stood dumb and motionless at the other end of the room.
"I am as loath to keep good victuals waiting as any man in the Archbishopric, but, my Lord, I have failed to make plain to you the nature of my calling. I am no executioner, but a soldier. If you give yonder fellow a blade in his hand to protect himself, I will be glad to carve him into as many pieces as may please your Lordship, but to draw bow on an unarmed man at ten paces is a misuse of a noble weapon, and the request to do so, were it not that this good flagon yearns for lips to meet it, I would construe it into an insult to myself, warranting a hostile encounter."
"You were not so choice when you proposed to slaughter an innocent man on the walls. Here stands a traitor, who has deserted his post and richly earned his death, yet you "
"The man on the wall, my Lord, was a soldier, at that moment bearing arms and enjoying pay for the risks he ran. When I myself mount guard I make no objection to your German cross-bowmen practising at my body with their bolts, taking whatever chance cares to offer, and holding it commendable that they should thus industriously attempt to perfect their marksmanship, but to send a shaft through a poor devil standing weaponless at arm's length, as one might say, is no work for an English archer, the which I will maintain, though you order this most tempting food back into the larder again."
The Baron scowled at the bowman, who returned his whole regard to the table. The Emperor looked at his friend with a half quizzical smile on his lips, while the speechless victim gazed helplessly at his master.
"Siegfried, a word with you," said the Emperor, pointing to the bench beside him. The Baron crossed over and sat down.
"It is not your intention to have this young man executed, is it?"
"Most assuredly; nothing but an order from the Emperor will save his deservedly forfeited life."
"Then God help him," said Rodolph, "for the Emperor is far away. If, however, my own poor word can avail him, I would gladly see him spared, and this without in any way underrating the heinousness of his crime."
"His desertion might have cost either of us our lives, as you yourself admitted but a short while since. I can forgive anything rather than absence from the post of duty."
"I grant you that if he were not alone here his offence would be unpardonable, if but for the effect on others, but there is none other to make a precedent of leniency. Then there is this to be said, he has had a stern lesson, for if ever man read death in the eye of another he saw it in yours a moment ago, although at first I thought you were jesting. If you spare him, he will therefore be the truer in future and will not soon forget this night, while another who takes his place will still have the lesson to learn. May I question him?"
"Certainly. He is yours, as I am."
"Hark ye, fellow, were you ever out with that boat before?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"You see it is not the first offence. I beg you to let me execute justice upon him," said the Baron.
"A worse man would have denied it," responded Rodolph, eagerly. "He speaks the truth when he knows it prejudices his case. I like the fellow, although he is so badly frightened. Where do you voyage, sirrah?"
"To the Archbishop's palace, my Lord."
"To the Archbishop's palace?" echoed both Rodolph and Siegfried, in a breath. "In the Fiend's name what have you to do with the Archbishop or his Palace?"
The young fellow cleared his throat, and some colour mounted to his pale face.
"My Lord," he stammered, "a maid, who is named Hilda "
"I could have sworn it," cried the Emperor. "Now we have the woman, the riddle unravels itself. What of Hilda, my young gallant?"
"She is tirewoman of the Countess Tekla "
"Ha!" ejaculated the Emperor, a sudden interest coming into his face, while the Baron's frown grew blacker. "You met with Hilda then to-night?"
"Not so, my Lord. I was on my way to meet her when, in the still night, I heard a knock, and fearing it might be at this door I hurried back; alas! that I kept your Lordship waiting."
"Then if I understand you aright, Hilda has now accepted our late rôle."
The man looked at the ground, evidently not comprehending the last remark.
"Hilda is at this moment waiting for you, then," explained Rodolph.
"Yes, my Lord."
The Emperor turned his frank smiling face upon the Baron, who sat with his chin in his hand, grimly regarding the servant, who, now that there seemed hope of rescue, kept his eyes fixed on the floor.
"You see," said Rodolph, "'tis but a simple lover's meeting, and I have known great affairs of State put aside for such. What wonder that the boy forgot his duty and stole away in your skiff to have a few sweet words with the doubtless charming Hilda."