“By the beard of my father! I shall not respect it,” cried Von Frundsberg. “I do not serve the Emperor!” “Neither do we,” added Zueker, Maramaldo, and the Italian leaders. “We have received no pay from him. We serve the brave Bourbon.” “But the Duke de Bourbon only derives his authority from the Emperor,” said Lannoy; “and I offer you payment for your troops.” “That will not suffice,” cried Von Frundsberg, fiercely. “We have not crossed the Po, and marched thus far through Italy, to retire because the Emperor at the last moment has thought fit to conclude a truce with the Pope. The truce is not binding upon us. We have nothing to do with it. As to the paltry payment offered by your highness, we scout it. No sum could induce us to turn back, We are the sworn enemies of Antichrist. We will destroy the idolatrous city. We will plunder the Vatican and Saint Peter's of their treasures.” “Is it possible your highness can tolerate this horrible impiety?” said Lannoy to Bourbon. “At least, the Spanish soldiers will obey me. I shall take them with me to Rome for the defence of the city against this meditated attack. Bid them come with me in the Emperor's name,” he added to Del Vasto. “I fear the attempt will be vain,” returned the marquis. “Try them,” said Bourbon. “If they choose to depart, I shall not hinder them.” On this, Del Vasto quitted the tent, but he had not been gone many minutes when a great disturbance was heard outside, and he returned with looks of alarm. “You have met with ill success, I fear, my lord?” said Lannoy. “I could scarce have met with worse,” rejoined the marquis. “The soldiers utterly refuse to obey me. They will not respect the truce. They will not protect the Pope. They are determined to sack Rome. They say they know no other leader than Bourbon, Your highness must fly. The soldiers are so infuriated against you that I fear they will do you injury.” “How should I fly?” cried Lannoy, trembling. I put myself under your highness's protection,” he added to Bourbon. “Fear nothing,” said Bourbon. “I will be answerable for your safety.” As he spoke, a number of Spanish soldiers burst into the tent, shouting out, “Death to Lannoy! Death to the Pope's general!” “How dare you force your way thus into my presence?” cried Bourbon, confronting them fiercely, and speaking in a stern authoritative tone. “Hence, mutinous rascals, or you shall be punished.” “Deliver up the Viceroy to us, and we will go at once,” said the foremost of the band. “Ha! dare you parley with me?” cried Bourbon. “Away, I say, at once, or----” On this the soldiers retired, but they cast menacing glances at Lannoy as they went, and the tumult outside the tent continued. “It would have been well if your highness had ascertained the disposition of the army before venturing among them,” remarked Von Frundsberg. “They will not be balked of their plunder.” “Your highness has promised me your protection,” said Lannoy, appealing to Bourbon.