Many of the bishops regulated their conduct by that of the eminent Archbishop of Salzburg, and as long as the feeble and irresolute Victor was not universally acknowledged as Pope, the Emperor could not hope for a complete realization of his ambitious projects. In fact, Victor was as humbly submissive to Frederic's slightest wishes as Alexander III. was inflexibly opposed to them. As powerful and bold as Barbarossa himself, he disdained to play the part of lackey to the Emperor, and refused to enthrall the liberty of the Church and make religion the mere stepping-stone to a despotic prince. Such a man was dangerous to the Emperor's projects, and every effort was made to drive Alexander from the throne of St. Peter. Eberhard was the head of the Papal faction in Germany, and as Conrad was said to possess great influence with the Archbishop, it was most natural to suppose that Frederic would gladly oblige the monk whenever it was in his power to do so. The long expected arrival of the Abbot was promptly noised through the Imperial camp, and scarcely had he returned to the jester's hospitable tent, when he found himself surrounded by the courtiers. Adelbert was one of the foremost, and the prelate strove, by most humble excuses, to atone for his former incivility. Conrad retained his native modesty, and smiled as he witnessed the assiduity of the German nobles. "His Eminence the Bishop regrets that he is not to have the honor of offering you his hospitality," said Adelbert. "But His Majesty has ordered the most sumptuous apartment of his own tent to be prepared for your reception, my lord Abbot. His Eminence has overwhelmed me with well-merited reproaches for my unlucky mistake of this morning. But I could scarcely imagine that so illustrious an Abbot would have been thus disguised beneath a monk's cowl!" "Lord Adelbert, I beg that you will cease these apologies; the mistake is of too little importance to be referred to a second time." "I feel deeply mortified, my lord!" continued Adelbert. "Your celebrated order is welcomed by all, and surely its virtuous superior should have been received with open arms." The abbot began to feel an intense disgust for this obsequious servility, and was well satisfied when he reached the monarch's tent. At the farther side of the square, on which it stood, was planted a tall flagstaff where floated the proud banner of the Emperor. On either side, midway between it and the tent, were two knights in complete armor, who, with drawn swords, mounted guard over the Imperial shield. This was in conformity with a traditional custom, and the duty was shared, in turn, by every noble, spiritual and temporal, of the court. Unlike the rest of the camp, a profound silence replaced the noisy bustle. Warriors in shining mail, and courtiers in rich dresses, stood around the pavilion; but their grave and respectful deportment showed that they were near the presence of their sovereign.