“Even so, Eminenza. He has refused all the terms of accommodation proffered him by the Archbishop of Trier and other prelates, who went to the very verge of true faith to recall him. He stands steadfast in his blasphemies.” “Then he will return to Wittenberg, and there await the issuing of the Imperial ban?” “Such will happen, unless your Eminence can persuade the Emperor to violate the safe-conduct, and surrender him immediately.” “The Emperor is stubbornly fixed. He declares his word is pledged. ‘He does not wish to blush like Kaiser Sigismund, who surrendered Hus at Constance.’ He will not recall his pledges.” The other prelate shook his head. “Then Mahomet escapes. The ban of the Empire is a fearfully slow weapon. Luther goes back to Wittenberg, and is surrounded by his friends. There are all manner of legal delays. Perhaps armies are raised for him in Saxony. Charles is about to lock horns with Francis. If the first battle goes in favor of the French, the Emperor will dare to do nothing to enrage the Elector of Saxony. A thousand zechins that Luther goes free!” “He shall not,” asserted Forli, with a stamp. “I trust your Eminence can persuade the Emperor, then.” To which the Cardinal answered with a very vulpine laugh. “_Caro amico_, it is a true saying of old Cosimo de’ Medici that ‘you cannot govern a state with paternosters,’ nor save the Church either, as I add. The Emperor is too scrupulous. Good, then, His Holiness’s legate must act without him. My mission here to Worms has been quasi-private. I can readily depart on some pretext and make no tongues chatter. I have often travelled incognito as a French nobleman. It will be very easy to overtake _il grande heretico_ at some dark turn of the road, and carry him off bodily, as easily as, well,--as I shall carry off this unfortunate crazed gentleman. If there is danger of rescue, then,” Forli’s finger passed lightly across his throat, “but you will see how I shall entirely prosper. There will be a bonfire yet in the Piazza di San Pietro.” The second Italian regarded Forli in a kind of hesitant admiration. “You are magnificent, Eminenza, but consider the risk of scandal! The Emperor will be furious.” “The Emperor will know nothing for long. Nothing until our fine friar is safe and snug in Italy or lying with his throat cut. Luther will simply vanish from sight. Good Catholics will hold that his friend the devil has flown off with him. Then at last when the truth leaks out, bah! the Emperor will prove a very sensible man.” “The Cardinal of Forli speaks with the just confidence of an Alexander.” “An Alexander Borgia,” quoth the other, smiling subtlely. “Come, Monsignore, we have much more to talk of, and we will leave this poor gentleman to compose his crazed wits by reading.” CHAPTER XXXIII ILSA VICTRIX