"Count," she said, in a calm, sweet voice, "first let me thank you for the kind protection which you have given to a very wretched woman. Pardon me, if I have been compelled, by circumstances, to conceal my name and character; but I still need your aid, and I trust that, though unknown, I may count upon it." "I have merely discharged the duties imposed by the laws of chivalry," replied Erwin; "I am always ready to serve you." "Thank you, my lord. You probably know that His Holiness the Pope Alexander III. has taken refuge in France, and is at present in a monastery on the frontiers of the Empire, not for from Laon. It is there, near to the Father of the faithful, the support of the afflicted and the unhappy, that I am now going." She paused for a reply, and it seemed to Erwin that her voice was familiar, and that he had already heard it at the Court. "I now learn," she resumed, "that the Holy Father, through fear for his personal safety on account of the alliance between France and the Emperor, intends to go to England. Should he do so, I shall lose this opportunity of laying my sorrows at the feet of the Vicar of Jesus Christ. To be so near the only person who can aid me in my misfortunes, and yet not see him, will be an additional trial. You, Count, can relieve my unhappiness by consenting to accompany me to Laon." "What do you ask me to do?" said Erwin. "I cannot leave the Count of Champagne, without violating all the rules of courtesy and incurring my sovereign's displeasure; but I will do all in my power to persuade him to hasten his journey." "Your efforts will be vain. The Count of Champagne is merely a statesman who is influenced by reasons of political expediency, but not by pity for the sufferings of a stranger." "Still I will try." "You will lose your time; but, perhaps, when you see my face, you will consent to do what you have refused to a mere unknown." She raised her veil;--Clemence, Duchess of Saxony, pale and dejected, stood before him, the living image of grief. "Great God!" he cried, "can it be you, noble lady? You, the most powerful princess of the Empire, here, unprotected, without the retinue which belongs of right to the Duchess of Saxony and Bavaria!" "Calm yourself," she answered. "What are rank and dignities? I am nothing now but a poor, divorced wife, who implores your aid and pity." "It is true then? That infamous deed, of which they spoke so cautiously, has really been consummated?" cried Erwin, indignantly. "Duke of Saxony, they call thee 'the Lion,' but thou art only a lion in cruelty! Henry, thou art an unnatural husband, a prince without honor, the disgrace of knighthood!" Rechberg's eyes flashed, and his hand sought his sword-hilt, as though he would chastise the crime. "Restrain yourself, do not blame him," said Clemence. "The fault is entirely theirs who have led him astray, and estranged his heart from the sentiments of duty."