your words, my lord Chancellor! If I still hesitate, it is because of the crying injustice of which poor Clemence would be the victim. She is a noble woman!"
"Doubtless, and I pity her sincerely; but are the tears of a woman to baffle your projects for glory and dominion?"
This remark terminated the discussion. The proud aspirations of Barbarossa for universal Empire smothered every other feeling. He loved power and fame, and to them he sacrificed every other sentiment.
"But the Duke's assent to our projects is by no means certain," said he, less to discuss the subject than as & mark of his discontent.
"I will take care of that," said the Chancellor; "the Lion must be speedily influenced to an open rupture!"
CHAPTER IX.
FILIAL DEVOTION
The oftener Bonello saw his daughter, the more unwilling he became to die. Alas! what will become of her, poor orphan, he thought. Then again, at times, he turned to his project of her marriage with Nigri, and felt reassured. But Pietro had so deeply wounded her feelings by his violent and inconsiderate outburst, that he no longer desired that union for his child. She might perhaps seek shelter in a convent! Yet, in those times of civil strife, the walls of a cloister were but an insecure protection! Whilst he lamented in the bitterness of his thought, Pietro Nigri recommenced his wild harangue on the subject of the expected pardon.
"I should be sorry, sir knight, to allow Frederic to suppose for an instant that I feared death."
"Our positions are very different, young man," replied Bonello. "The cares and sentiments of a father are often more potent than the chivalrous heroism of a youth!"
"You should be able to master your emotions," said Nigri. "The ties of mere human affection should be as nothing compared with the duties which we owe to our country. If we fear the rope and the scaffold, – if the approach of death is to excite our tears, – we will deserve, by our weakness, to bear the German yoke."
"You really do yourself injustice, Pietro!" said the prisoner, glancing towards the window where his daughter stood, anxiously awaiting the return of the Abbot. At last she perceived some horsemen approaching the eminence on which the fortress was built. It even seemed to her that she could distinguish the monk's robe; but what meant those armed men? Were they the Abbot's escort? Her heart beat violently. They drew up at the foot of the hill, and the prelate, leaving his attendants, ascended with hasty steps the path which led to the Castle.
"It is he! – he is coming-he is coming," cried Hermengarde, excitedly. "See how the holy man hastens. No! his is not the air of a messenger of evil; it is mercy and pardon that he will announce! My father! – oh, my father!" said she, embracing Bonello, and smiling through her tears.
"You are right, perhaps, my child; but wait a moment."
"Oh! do not doubt it, it is certain! You are pardoned; a voice from within tells me that I am right!"
The key grated in the lock, and the Abbot entered with a solemn and dejected mien.
"I have come in person," he said, "to communicate the result of my mission. I have only partially succeeded. Sir Knight. But the Emperor has respited you for to-day."
The prisoner was not for an instant deceived by the mild form under which the Abbot veiled his failure. But the childish sentiments of Hermengarde did not take in at once the dread truth.
"Holy Father," said she, "your vague words alarm me. I implore you, tell me clearly if the Emperor has pardoned my father?"
The prelate looked sadly at the young girl.
"At first the Emperor positively refused to listen to my prayers for mercy; however, by my persistent supplications I have attained a satisfactory result."
"Ah! only for to-day!"
"We may feel perfectly easy, dear child. To-day not a hair of your father's head will be harmed!"
"But to-morrow! – Great God! what may happen tomorrow?" she cried, with anguish.
"Trust in God, my child," said the monk; "he alone is master of the future."
"Oh! unhappy creature that I am. – You hesitate to tell me the fearful truth! – You dread my tears! – Do you not see, dearest Father, that my eyes are dry? – that I am calm and resigned? – For God's sake, speak to me!" cried Hermengarde. "This uncertainty is worse than death! I am strong enough to bear anything but that, – we have no time to lose in idle tears now. The few short hours that are left us must be spent in trying to avert to-morrow's fearful doom!"
Hermengarde spoke earnestly, and her touching distress suggested a last hope to the good Abbot.
"Your pleadings may soften the Emperor, my child," he said. "I will gladly use my influence to get you to his presence. – You may be more successful than I."
"You have failed! Then, indeed, all hope is lost," she cried, despairingly.
"Calm yourself, my child," said Guido, "all is not lost yet."
"Oh! I am calm, my Father; my mind is entirely composed. – Reverend Sir, take me at once, I beseech you, to the Emperor!"
And with wonderful stoicism she began her preparations; for though her heart was wellnigh breaking within her, she had summoned all her courage for this one last effort.
"Pietro," said she, after a moment's hesitation, "will you not come with me?"
"Pardon me, noble lady, if I cannot accede to your request; the sight of the tyrant has always been insupportable to me. – What will it be now, when I behold you a suppliant at his feet?"
"Ah! Pietro, do not refuse me the support of your arm!"
"Fear not, my daughter," said the Abbot; "I will not leave you for an instant. This young man appears too much excited, and we must act with the greatest calmness!"
Hermengarde seized the prelate's hand, and they immediately left the tower.
Conrad's retinue was composed of gentlemen of the Imperial household, for Barbarossa always treated with great distinction all those whose favor he wished to gain. As they descended the hill, Hermengarde's beauty attracted the admiration of the knights, one of whom dismounted as she approached, and respectfully held the stirrup for her to mount. For her remarkable loveliness could not fail to conciliate the kind feelings of all those who in that chivalric age treated woman with such distinguished courtesy. The little band moved slowly along the main road to the Imperial tent, for such was the bustle and movement that their progress was more than once arrested by the crowd. Although for the first time within the precincts of a camp, Hermengarde scarcely remarked the tumult, nor noticed the looks of open admiration which her beauty called forth from all, so entirely was she a prey to her own sad thoughts. As they passed the tent of Henry the Lion, they met, the Chancellor Rinaldo, who, richly dressed and surrounded by a brilliant retinue, was about to pay a visit to the Duke.
"Whither go you thus, my lord Abbot?" he asked; "ah, well! I see you are not easily discouraged; and in truth," he added, bowing to the young girl, "your protegée is worthy of your best efforts, to which I sincerely wish you every success."
"The result would most certainly be successful, my lord," said Conrad, "if my slight influence was but backed by you."
Rinaldo said nothing, but as he gazed
