“The Archbishop will probably be content to take the risk of that.” “Are you commissioned to speak for the Archbishop?” “I am.” “Are you one of the Archbishop’s men?” “My disposition towards him is friendly; I cannot say that I am one of his men.” “Granting, then, that I took service with the Archbishop to save my life, what would he expect me to do?” “To obey him in all things.” “Ah, be more explicit, as the examiner said. I am not a man to enter into a bargain blindly. I must know exactly what is required of me.” “It is probable that your first order would be to march your army from Frankfort to Treves. Would the men follow you, do you think?” “Undoubtedly. The men will follow wherever I choose to lead them. Another question. What becomes of the Emperor in case I make this bargain?” “That question it is impossible at the present moment, to answer. The Court of the Holy Fehm is now awaiting my return, and when I take my place on the bench the Emperor will be called upon to answer for his neglect of duty.” “Nevertheless you may hazard a guess regarding his fate.” “I hazard this guess then, that his fate will depend largely upon himself, just as your fate depends upon yourself.” “I must see clearly where I am going, therefore I request you to be more explicit. What will the Court demand of the Emperor that he may save his life?” “You are questioning me touching the action of others; therefore, all I can do is merely to surmise. My supposition is that if the Emperor promises to abdicate he will be permitted to pass unscathed from the halls of the Fehmgerichte.” “And should he refuse?” “Sir, I am already at the end of my patience through your numerous questions,” and as the voice rose in something approaching anger, Wilhelm seemed to recognise its ring. “I came here, not to answer your questions, but to have you answer mine. What is your decision?” “My decision is that you are a confessed traitor; die the death of such!” Wilhelm sprang forward and buried the dagger of the Fehmgerichte into the heart of the man before him. His action was so unexpected that the victim could make no motion to defend himself. So truly was the fierce blow dealt that the doomed man, without a cry or even a groan, sank in his death collapse at the young man’s feet in a heap on the floor. Wilhelm, who thought little of taking any man’s life in a fair fight, shuddered as he gazed at the helpless bundle at his feet; a moment before, this uncouth heap stood erect, a man like himself, conversing with him, then the swift blow and the resulting huddle of clay. “Oh, God above me, Over-lord of all, I struck for my King, yet I feel myself an assassin. If I am, indeed, a murderer in Thy sight, wither me where I stand, and crush me to the ground, companion to this dead body.”