The Duke of Austria had scarcely dismounted, when he was informed that Galdini Sala requested an audience. At the time of the siege of Milan, Galdini’s name had been so often mentioned that the Duke felt almost a sentiment of pride at being thus brought into personal relations with one who had exercised so weighty an influence over the besieged. Consequently, he hastened to the tent where Sala was awaiting him.

The Archdeacon held in his hand a roll of parchment to which a seal was attached. This was the usual form of correspondence between persons of distinction. “With a low bow, Galdini presented the letters, but scarcely had Henry opened the roll and glanced at the seal, when his face assumed an expression of astonishment.

“What do I see? a letter from His Holiness! to me!” he cried. “There must be a mistake here; this letter must be for the Emperor, or the King of France!”

“It is addressed to Henry, Duke of Austria, and is highly important,” said Galdini, respectfully.

The Duke cut the silken thread, and to the great surprise of the prelate, read over the Latin brief; for his studies in the Convent of Fulva had enabled him to do without a secretary.

Clemence at the Papal Court! I thought she was in Germany! His Holiness is enraged at this criminal act scelus et flagitium; yes, it is indeed a crime,” said the Duke, continuing to read, and accompanying the reading with his own commentaries. “The divorce is declared null and void. The Lion is excommunicated and banished. By my faith, these are the words of a true Pope! I must speak to the Duke on the subject. I fear it will be labor in vain!”

“Your Highness will be faithful to the voice of the Holy Father,” replied Sala. “Your Highness alone, among all the princes in the Imperial camp, is worthy of the Pope’s confidence, and he charges you to protest against this sinful deed. It should be the Emperor’s duty to protect the unhappy Duchess, but Frederic is not opposed to the divorce!”

“It is most true; it is a miserable measure of political expediency in the interest of territorial aggrandizement,” said Henry, warmly. “The Emperor’s villainous Chancellor has directed the whole business. My cousin’s daughter lived on the best possible terms with her husband, before the interference of that felon. Ah! princes will not see to what their ambition leads them, until the halter is around their necks.”

“What has all this to do with the divorce?”

“You do not understand the plot,” resumed Henry; “the repudiation of Clemence must make trouble between Saxony and her relations; the union of those two houses would have thwarted all Frederic’s designs against the liberties of the people, the clergy and the nobility.”

“Frederic evidently seeks to assure his supremacy,” said Galdini, endeavoring to excite the Duke to a fuller confession.

“There is no doubt about it. Why does he not assign incumbents to the vacant fiefs? He keeps them for himself. He owns already all the territory from Rottemburg to Besancon. He sows discord among the nobles, adds the fiefs to the crown, and has organized in the Church an army of corrupt Bishops! Tell me, is not that one way of assuring his Imperial supremacy?”

“It seems so to me.”

“That is not all. The Empire is to be divided according to the old Eastern system. One of my followers, who was with Barbarossa during the last crusade, has heard him express his admiration for the Byzantine Empire. Barbarossa needs a capital, another Constantinople, and he has already made his selection. It is Mayence! Wait until he returns to Germany, and you will see whether this city be not deprived of all her liberties, as a punishment for Arnold’s murder, and if he does not make her his capital!”

“But why do you aid him with your troops?”

“Because I am alone in my way of thinking! Besides, I have already spoken frankly to the Emperor, and he is well aware that I will not further his guilty projects. I have spoken frankly to you, that you may repeat my words to the Holy Father. Alexander must not yield; he is the only protector of right and liberty! I am going to fulfil your message, and that, too, in your presence.”

The Duke raised the curtain, and left the tent; a moment afterwards he returned with the Saxon prince.

“This is a messenger from His Holiness, Pope Alexander III.,” said the Austrian; “he has given me this letter.”

And he began to read it off in German.

“This is perfectly useless,” said the Lion; “neither you, my dear Duke, nor Alexander, are called upon for an opinion; the sentence has been pronounced; the affair is concluded.”

“The sentence has been pronounced, and by whom?”

“By Pope Victor, the legitimate chief of Christendom.”

“Is it Henry the Lion who speaks thus?” said the Duke of Austria, with more dissatisfaction than surprise. “No one ever despised Victor more than you have done! Who has ever called him the Imperial puppet as often as you? and yet, to-day, he is for you the chief of Christendom!”

“The last reasons are often the best!”

“Because you need some excuse to justify your misdeeds!”

“Misdeeds? Duke, what does this mean!” said the Lion, with an air of menace.

“Must I then call evil good, and good evil? No, Duke of Saxony, not yet; not even in Frederic’s camp! Do not misunderstand my frankness, Henry; your divorce is a wrong, a crying injustice, a stain upon your name.”

“Your interference in my private affairs is insulting to me, my lord!” said the Lion, sullenly.

“Is not Clemence my relative?”

“Too distant to warrant such excessive interest.”

“The duty of every knight is to defend the rights of helpless woman,” replied the Austrian. “Besides, I am fulfilling the Pope’s mission. He has excommunicated you; is that of no moment?”

“Very well! your message has been delivered; the rest is my own business.”

“What! You will put yourself in opposition to the whole Church, you will endanger your own soul, while you violate the rights of chivalry?”

“Enough of this; spare me these superfluous representations. At my own formal request, the Holy Father has annulled my marriage; neither you, nor any one, even Alexander, can make me reverse my decision.”

As he spoke he turned his back upon the Duke, and hastily left the tent.

“You see there a fair instance of the respect paid to one’s conscience, and the sanctity of marriage, in the Imperial court,” said the Duke, sadly. “Frederic set the first example of a divorce, and he will find scores of imitators.”

“Alas!” Galdini exclaimed.

“I am uneasy for Clemence’s safety. The fate of the unfortunate Empress Adelaide is still unknown; she has disappeared, and Clemence too might be spirited away, if I did not prevent it. I will go to-day, and solicit from the French King a strong escort to conduct her to her relatives. The unfortunate princess will travel through Lorraine and Bavaria to Austria under the protection of my troops. She will there be able to end in peace her blighted existence; for, even should Henry return to kinder sentiments, she can scarcely look for much happiness in her husband’s society.”

Galdini Sala thanked the Duke, and they separated after the latter had repeated his assurance of unalterable fidelity to Pope Alexander.

“Recommend me, my house, and my country to the blessing of His Holiness and comfort poor Clemence.”

Whilst the archdeacon was on his way to the tent where the nobles were assembled, Barbarossa was taking leave of the Count of Champagne, and their parting was so affectionately cordial that Sala was astonished.

“I will soon make a visit to that beautiful castle of yours, of which my cousin appears so fond,” said Frederic to the Count, as he was mounting on his horse.

“I thank your Majesty for the honor you will then favor me with,” said the Count, bowing respectfully and dashing off, followed by his retinue.

Without a moment’s loss of time, the Count of Champagne returned to his castle, and Nevers presented the Imperial despatch to the King.

The same evening Manases and Champagne held a long and secret interview. The Emperor’s letter had greatly embarrassed Louis, for Rinaldo had rather exaggerated Frederic’s warlike language, so that it differed little from a formal declaration of war. The King paced uneasily in his room, cursing the Emperor, the Count of Champagne, and the obstinacy of the Pope. At last he seemed to have made up his mind, and sent for the Chancellor Manases, Alexander’s most bitter enemy.

“This is my opinion,” said the latter, after a perusal of the communication; “if you continue to support Roland, war is inevitable; besides, I have learned from another source, that an alliance is about to be concluded between Frederic and the English King. We consequently are in danger of being attacked on both sides at once.”

The King’s anxiety increased.

“We have fulfilled the duties of a Christian,” he said. “I have defended the Pope as far as I am able. No one can compel me to subject my kingdom to all the horrors of a merciless war.”

The wily courtier expected this conclusion, and it was decided to send a message, couched in very emphatic language, to the Holy Father at Cluny.

The Chancellor recommended that it should be intrusted to a partisan of Alexander, and the Archbishop of Tarantasia was selected. It is probable that some other choice had been made by Manases and the Count of Champagne; for when the prelate arrived at Court, on the next day, the Count announced boldly to the King that Peter neither would nor could bear the despatch.

“Have I then no longer a right to choose my own ambassadors?” asked Louis. “What have you against the Archbishop?”

“This holy man cannot suit you, Sire,” he replied. “He will kiss Alexander’s hand and will address him, with every mark of respect, a request which ought to be communicated as an order. The Pope will be under a false impression; he will refuse to come, and war will break out. Rather send a man in armor with a strong escort, that he may, if needs be, enforce the execution of your orders.”

“Employ violence!” exclaimed the King.

“Why are you astonished, Sire? gentle measures have been tried without result, there is nothing left but compulsion.”

“It would be an unheard of crime to drag the Chief of Christendom, against his will, before a tribunal composed exclusively of his enemies!” said Louis. “I will not permit it!”

“Very well; but in that case, the Count Henry of Troyes and Champagne will keep his oath.”

“One moment, Count, for the love of God! Do not be so hasty, cried the terrified prince. I know your unfortunate oath, but you have scarcely reflected that it would be treason!”

“My oath is an oath even when pledged to an enemy; and yet, Sire, you would make me a perjurer and a felon? Either you will send a proper message to Alexander, or I will go over to the Emperor.”

“Since your Majesty cannot resist the Count’s arguments,” interrupted Manases, “would it not be well to intrust him with this mission? The situation is delicate; it is necessary not to render it still more dangerous.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the King consented.

“Go, in God’s name,” he said; “but I adjure you, on your conscience, respect the Pope, respect the Chief of Christendom.”