here at last," began the Archbishop, coldly. "It is full time you arrived. Your bride has fled."
"Fled? The Countess Tekla?"
"You have no other, I trust," continued the Prince of the Church, in even, unimpassioned tones. "My first thought on learning she was missing made me apprehensive that the girl had anticipated the marriage ceremony by flying to your notoriously open arms, and I expected to be asked to bless a bridal somewhat hastily encompassed; but I assume from your evident surprise that she has been given the strength to resist temptation which takes the form of your mature and manly virtues."
The sword cut across Count Bertrich's face reddened angrily as he listened to the sneering, contemptuous words of the Archbishop, but he kept his hot temper well in hand and said nothing. The manner of his over-lord changed, and he spoke sharply and decisively, as one whose commands admit neither question nor discussion.
"Last night the Countess Tekla took it upon herself to disappear. The guards say she passed them going outward about ten o'clock, and no one saw her return. This leads me to suspect that, with childish craftiness, the passing of the guards was merely a ruse on her part, intended to mislead, and so although I pay little attention to such a transparent wile, I have taken all precautions and have already acted on the clue thus placed in my hands, for there is every chance that the girl is indeed a fool; we usually err in ascribing too much wisdom to our fellow creatures. Regarding the proposed marriage, which, strange and unaccountable as it may appear to me, and must appear to you, the Countess seemed to view with little favour, she threatened to appeal to the Emperor and also to his Holiness the Pope." On mentioning the name of the latter, the Archbishop slightly inclined his head. "I take small account of the Emperor, but have nevertheless sent a body of fleet troopers along the Frankfort road in case she meant what she said, which I suppose may sometimes happen with a woman. They know not whom they seek, but have orders to arrest and bring back every woman they find, therefore we are like to have shortly in Treves a screaming bevy of females, enough to set any city mad. I have thrown out a drag-net, and we shall have some queer fish when it is pulled in. But to you and to you alone, Count Bertrich, do I reveal my mind; see therefore that you make no mistake. The fool has taken to the water and is now committed to the sinuous Moselle.
"She said nothing in her protests about her uncle of Thuron, and unless I am grievously misled, the crooked talons of the black vulture are in this business. He has doubtless provided boat and crew, and they are making their way down the river in the night, concealing themselves during the day. They will avoid Bruttig and Cochem. Make you therefore for Bruttig with what speed you may, sparing neither horse nor man; yourself I know you will not spare. If nothing has been heard of them there, order a chain across the river that will stop all traffic and set a night guard upon it; then press on to Thuron across the country by the most direct line you can follow, coming back up the river to intercept them, for their outlook will be entirely directed toward what is following them. If, in spite of all our precautions, the girl reaches Thuron, seek instant entrance to the castle and audience with the Black Count. Demand in my name, immediate custody of the body of Countess Tekla; if this is refused, declare castle and lands forfeit and Heinrich outlaw. Retire at once to Cochem, where I shall join you with my army. And now to horse and away. Success here depends largely on speed."
Count Bertrich made no reply but sank on one knee, rose quickly and left the room. The expression on his face as he passed through the multitude in the great hall was not such as to invite inquiry, and no one accosted him.
"There is war in that red scar of Bertrich's," said an officer to another.
Outside the Count flung himself on his horse, gave a brief word of command to his waiting troop, and galloped away at the head of his men.
He made no attempt to pursue the extremely crooked course of the upper river, but, knowing the country well, he left the Moselle some distance below Treves, and, taking a rude thoroughfare that was more path than road, followed it up hill and down dale through the forest. He was determined to reach Bruttig that night, hoping to finish the journey by moonlight, taking advantage of the long summer day and riding as hard as horseflesh could endure. When the day wore on to evening Bertrich saw that he had set to himself no easy task, for in the now pathless forest, speedy progress became more and more difficult, and when the moon rose, the density of the growth overhead allowed her light to be of little avail. Several times a halt was sounded and the bugle called the troop together, for now all attempt at regularity of march had been abandoned, but on each occasion the numbers thus gathered were fewer than when the former rally was held. In spite of his temporary loss of men, Bertrich, with stubborn persistence, determined to push on, even if he reached Bruttig alone. For an hour they pressed northward to find the river which they now needed as a guide, knowing they would come upon it at Bruttig or at least some short distance above or below it, but before the Moselle was reached they suddenly met an unexpected check. The outposts of an unseen band commanded them to stop and give account of themselves.
"Who dares to bar the way of the Archbishop's troops?" demanded Count Bertrich.
"It is the Archbishop's troops that we are here to stop. Will you fight or halt?" was the answer.
Bertrich, with his exhausted men and jaded horses, was in no condition to fight, yet was he most anxious to pursue his way, and get some information of his whereabouts, so he spoke with less imperiousness than his impulse at first prompted.
"I am Count Bertrich, commanding a division of his Lordship's army. I am on a peaceful mission, and, when I left his Lordship this morning, he had no quarrel with any. There has been some misunderstanding, and I should be loath to add to it by drawing sword unless I am attacked."
"You shall not be molested if you stay where you are. If, however, you attempt to advance, our orders are to fall upon you," said a voice from the darkness.
Noticing that the voice which now spoke was not the one that had first challenged, Count Bertrich said,
"Are you in command, or am I speaking to a sentinel?"
"I am in command."
"Then who are you and whom do you serve?"
"Doubtless you are well aware whom I serve?"
"I know no more than the Archbishop himself."
"That I can well believe, and still would not hold you ignorant."
"We are talking at cross purposes, fellow. There must be, as I have said, some mistake, for the domains of the Archbishop are in a state of peace. There is no secret about my destination as there is none about the name which I have rendered to you. I am bound for Bruttig and hope to reach there before day dawns."
"My master knew of your destination and that is why I am here to prevent you reaching it."
"What you allege is impossible. None knew of my destination save the Archbishop and myself, and I have ridden from Treves with such use of spur that news of my coming could not have forestalled me. Again I ask you whom you serve."
"That you doubtless guess, for you know whom you are sent against, and why you ride to Bruttig."
"You speak in riddles; what have you to fear from plain answers?"
"I fear nothing. My duty is not to answer questions but to arrest your progress toward Bruttig. If you have questions to ask, ask them of Count Beilstein."
"Oh ho! Then it is to Count Beilstein I owe this midnight discourtesy. I thank you for that much information, which is to me entirely unexpected. Where is the Count?"
"He is at Bruttig."
"How
