"Nothing has been heard from the Archbishop, I trust," said the Countess.
"There is little to fear from him until late to-morrow, and not even then unless your escape was discovered early to-day – a most unlikely event."
"But might not the pursuers ride all night?"
"A difficult and hazardous task they would set themselves in passing through the forest in the dark, and slow work even if successfully accomplished."
"Then we need have no apprehension if we can get clear of Cochem before the pursuers from Treves arrive at Bruttig?"
"Once quit of Cochem, pursuit will be futile. My plan is to keep a sharp look-out for the drifting boat. Conrad will secure it if possible, and we will get away from Cochem to-night, if we can leave the castle; but I know nothing of its conformation, nor of how it is guarded."
The Countess shook her head. "I am afraid it will be difficult to leave Cochem at night," she said. "The castle is always well and strictly guarded, and occupies an almost inaccessible position on the top of a hill."
"There is nothing for it then but to go with this escort to Cochem, and trust to Providence and our own ingenuity thereafter. I may have something to suggest when I have seen the place."
The increasing roughness of the road made conversation more and more difficult. An hour's riding and a turn in the river brought them in sight of the grand castle of Cochem, its numerous pinnacles glittering in the last rays of the setting sun. It was another hour before the cavalcade arrived opposite the place. A trumpeter of the troop blew a bugle blast that was echoed back from the rock-ribbed conical hill on which the castle stood. The signal was answered by another from the ramparts of the fortification itself, and presently a boat put out from the foot of the rock. In this boat the Countess and her attendant were placed, while those on horseback set their steeds to the swift current and landed some distance below, at the lower end of the little village that clustered from the foot of the hill, extending down the valley. The Countess mounted her dripping horse, and the troop rode slowly up a winding path that partly encircled the vine-clad hill, and at last arrived at the northern gate, which was the chief entrance to the castle. Here, after a brief parley, the portcullis was raised and the party admitted to a large courtyard that hung high above the Moselle, overlooking a long stretch of the river as it flowed toward the Rhine.
The custodian of the castle received his distinguished guest with that humble deference which befitted her lofty station, assisting her to dismount and evidently entertaining not the remotest suspicion that the visit was unauthorised. The Countess enacted her part well.
"I commend to your care," she said, imperiously, "my Lord Rodolph, who has conducted me from Treves. Until the Archbishop himself arrives you are to hold yourself entirely at his orders."
The custodian bowed low, first to the Countess and then to Rodolph.
"How soon may we look for his Highness the Archbishop?" he asked.
"You will most likely hear from him to-morrow. Is my suite of apartments ready?"
"They are now being prepared as speedily as possible; but as no messenger brought us word of your coming, I hope your Ladyship will pardon the delay," answered the custodian, with some trepidation.
The Countess made no reply, but with her whip beckoned Rodolph to her side.
"Do the troopers remain in the castle, or return to Bruttig to-night?"
"I have told their officer to keep them here until morning. If a messenger from the Archbishop arrives at Bruttig sooner than we look for, he will likely remain there until this officer returns. The Archbishop would count on the Captain being at his post, and it is not likely that the messenger's instructions would run further than Bruttig, which will give us further time."
"Will you then give your commands to the custodian regarding the disposal of the men? I think he will obey you; but it is well to discover this by bestowing orders first that are unimportant, before we put our power to a supreme test."
Rodolph gave directions, which, to his relief, were instantly obeyed. The custodian escorted Countess Tekla into the castle, while Rodolph walked round the courtyard to get some idea of the lay of the land and the construction of the fortifications. The view down the river was magnificent, as also was the outlook up the Endertsbach valley, with the huge round tower of Count Winneburg's castle standing out against the evening sky, built on a hill nearly equal in height to the one crowned by Schloss Cochem.
Rodolph's short examination of the castle's position speedily showed him that it was a place difficult to get into or escape from. To steal away at night was hardly practicable, unless one had a ladder of ropes, while to escape by day was equally hopeless, as a fugitive could be seen for miles in any direction until he was lost in the forest.
As the Emperor stood at the corner of the elevated terrace, gazing down the river, he became aware of some one's approach, and a moment later the deferential voice of the aged custodian broke the silence.
"A goodly sight, my Lord," he said, "and although I have looked at it for many a year, it never becomes less lovely to my eyes. It is rarely the same, varying with every change in the atmosphere, but always beautiful."
"It is indeed a marvelous view, and not to be the less enjoyed because your position up here is well nigh impregnable," answered Rodolph.
"Altogether so, I think," replied the custodian, with the pride of an old retainer in his castle and a belief in its unassailableness, the result of many futile assaults he had seen. "Before Cochem falls the souls of hundreds of its assailants will seek a final abiding place, in bliss or other where, as God wills."
"Does the road we came by from Bruttig, follow the river further down?"
"No, my Lord, it ends opposite the castle. On this side, however, there is a path that follows the river from village to village, but how far it goes, I do not know, for I never explored it to the end."
"Are there many castles between here and the Rhine?"
"Only three or four, some standing back from the river in the valleys that run into the Moselle. The chief castle is that of the Black Count, robber and marauder that he is, and it is called Thuron. Were it less strong, I think the good Archbishop would have smoked him out long ere this. Count Heinrich has a chain across the river, stopping all honest traffic until tribute is paid, and if there is any cavilling about it, he takes the whole cargo and casts the merchant into a dungeon to teach him respect for the nobility, as he says. But some day there will be a reckoning, for Black Heinrich, while compelling due respect to be paid by all inferiors, is himself most disdainful to those above him."
"Flouts he the Emperor, then?"
"Oh, the Emperor!" said the custodian, with a shrug of his shoulders, that might have been held contemptuous, "the Emperor is but a name, and commands scant respect along the Moselle. He is some young man recently elected, who loves better the dallying of his Court than the risking of good stout blows in the field. They tell me he comes from a noble family in Switzerland, and is not of Germany at all, and I warrant the Archbishop does not wait to ask his leave if he wishes to pull down a castle about the ears of a truculent Baron."
"Then it seems to me our friend, the Archbishop, may be accused of the same want of respect for higher authority that you lay at the door of Count Heinrich the Black."
"The worthy Archbishop, God bless him, recognises no over-lord but the Pope himself and I have sometimes doubted whether Arnold von Isenberg paid very much attention even to his Holiness; but then I am letting my tongue run away with me, and am talking of what concerns me not."
"It will do you no harm as long as I am the sole listener. Does Castle Thuron stand on this side of the river or on the other?"
"On the other. It crowns a hill somewhat similar to this and as high, but it is as unlike Cochem as one castle can be unlike another, for this is part palace