“That is the fellow who threw the Archbishop over his head,” while the other, glancing at him, said: “By the Coat, he seems capable of upsetting the three of them, and I, for one, wish more power to his muscle should he attempt it.” The Count shrank against the tapestried walls, hot with anger, wishing himself a dwarf that he might escape the gaze of so many inquiring eyes. Just as the scrutiny was becoming unbearable, his companion touched him on the elbow, and said in a low voice: “Count Winneburg, follow me.” He held aside the tapestry at the back of the Count, and that noble, nothing loth, disappeared from view behind it. Entering a narrow passage-way, they traversed it until they came to a closed door, at each lintel of which stood a pikeman, fronted with a shining breastplate of metal. The Count’s conductor knocked gently at the closed door, then opened it, holding it so that the Count could pass in, and when he had done so, the door closed softly behind him. To his amazement, Winneburg saw before him, standing at the further end of the small room, the Emperor Rudolph, entirely alone. The Count was about to kneel awkwardly, when his liege strode forward and prevented him. “Count Winneburg,” he said, “from what I hear of you, your elbow-joints are more supple than those of your knees, therefore let us be thankful that on this occasion there is no need to use either. I see you are under the mistaken impression that the Emperor is present. Put that thought from your mind, and regard me simply as Lord Rudolph--one gentleman wishing to have some little conversation with another.” “Your Majesty--” stammered the Count. “I have but this moment suggested that you forget that title, my Lord. But, leaving aside all question of salutation, let us get to the heart of the matter, for I think we are both direct men. You are summoned to Frankfort because that high and mighty Prince of the Church, the Archbishop of Treves, has made complaint to the Emperor against you alleging what seems to be an unpardonable indignity suffered by him at your hands.” “Your Majesty--my Lord, I mean,” faltered the Count. “The indignity was of his own seeking; he sat down in my chair, where he had no right to place himself, and I--I--persuaded him to relinquish his position.” “So I am informed--that is to say, so his Majesty has been informed,” replied Rudolph, a slight smile hovering round his finely chiselled lips. “We are not here to comment upon any of the Archbishop’s delinquencies, but, granting, for the sake of argument, that he had encroached upon your rights, nevertheless, he was under your roof, and honestly, I fail to see that you were justified in cracking his heels against the same.” “Well, your Majesty--again I beg your Majesty’s pardon--” “Oh, no matter,” said the Emperor, “call me what you like; names signify little.” “If then the Emperor,” continued the Count, “found an intruder sitting on his throne, would he like it, think you?”