“Because, your Majesty, I have on several occasions imperilled my life for an Emperor who does not rule, who has refused even to sign my commission as officer of his troops.” “Your commission was never sent to me.” “I beg your Majesty’s pardon, but it was sent three times to you in the cloisters of the Cathedral, and returned three times unsigned.” “Then it is as I suspected,” returned the Emperor, “the monks must have connived at my capture. I have pleasure in confirming your appointment. I am sure that the command could not be in more capable hands. And in further reply to your question, if God permits me to see the light of day, I shall be an emperor who rules.” “It delights my heart to hear you say so. And now I ask, as a favour, that you allow me to deal untrammelled with the Fehmgerichte.” “I grant that most willingly.” By this time they were almost under the shadow of the great wall of the city, and Wilhelm, stopping, said to the Emperor: “I think it well that we now divest ourselves of these disguises.” They had scarcely thrown their cloaks behind the bushes at the side of the road when they were accosted by the guard at the top of the wall. “Halt! Who approaches the gate?” Wilhelm strode forward. “Is Gottlieb at the guard-house or at the barracks?” he asked. “He is at the guard-house,” replied the sentinel, recognising the questioner. “Then arouse him immediately, and open the gates.” “Gottlieb,” said Wilhelm, when once within the walls, “take a score of men with you and surround the first house on the margin of the river up this street. I shall accompany you so that there may be no mistake. Send another score under a trusty leader to the house which stands alone outside of the gates also on the margin of the stream. Give orders that the men are to seize any person who attempts to enter or to come out; kill if necessary, but let none escape you. Let a dozen men escort me to the Palace.” Having seen the Emperor safely housed in the Palace, Wilhelm returned quickly to the place where Gottlieb and his score held guard over the town entrance of the cellars he had quitted. “Gottlieb, are you fully awake?” asked Wilhelm. “Oh, yes, master; awake and ready for any emergency.” “Then send for some of your most stalwart sappers with tools to break through a stone wall, and tell them to bring a piece of timber to batter in this door.” When the men arrived three blows from the oaken log sent the door shattering from its hinges. Wilhelm sprang at once over the prostrate portal, but not in time to prevent the flight of the guard down the stairway. Calling the sappers to the first landing, and pointing to the stone wall on the right: “Break through that for me,” he cried. “Master,” expostulated Gottlieb, “if you break through that wall I warn you that the river will flow in.” “Such is my intention, Gottlieb, and a gold piece to each man who works as he has never wrought before.”