“I quite credit that,” said Cologne, sitting down again, the momentary desire to recall his marching troops, that had arisen when he saw the empty Lahn, dying down when he realized how effectually he had been outwitted.

When the horses were brought across, Father Ambrose, at the request of the Countess, rode back to Sayn, and sent forward the two waiting-women whom she required, and so well did he accomplish his task that they arrived at Schloss Martinsburg before ten of the clock that night.  At an early hour next morning the little procession began its journey up the Rhine, his Lordship and the Countess in front; the six horsemen bringing up the rear.

The lady was in a mood of deep dejection; the regret which Mayence had anticipated as result of imprisonment already enveloped her.  It was only too evident that the Archbishop of Cologne was bitterly disappointed, for he rode silently by her side making no attempt at conversation.  They rested for several hours during midday, arriving at Caub before the red sun set, and now the Countess saw her pinnacled prison lying like an anchored ship in midstream.

At Caub they were met by a bearded, truculent-looking ruffian, who introduced himself to the Archbishop as the Pfalzgraf von Stahleck.

“You take us rather by surprise, Prince of Cologne,” he said.  “It is true that my overlord, the Archbishop of Mayence, called upon me several days ago while descending the Rhine in his ten-oared barge, and said there was a remote chance that a prisoner might shortly be given into my care.  This had often happened before, for my Castle covers some gruesome cells that extend under the river,—­cells with secret entrances not easily come by should any one search the Castle.  It is sometimes convenient that a prisoner of State should be immured in one of them when the Archbishop has no room in his own Schloss Ehrenfels, so I paid little attention, and merely said the prisoner would receive a welcome on arrival.  This morning there came one of the Archbishop’s men from Stolzenfels, and both my wife and myself were astonished to learn that the prisoner would be here this evening under your escort, my Lord, and that it was a woman we were to harbor.  Further, she was to be given the best suite of rooms we had in the Castle, and to be treated with all respect as a person of rank.  Now, this apartment is in no state of readiness to receive such a lady, much less to house one of the dignity of your Lordship.”

“It does not matter for me,” replied the Archbishop.  “Being, as I may say, part soldier, the bed and board of an inn is quite acceptable upon occasion.”

“Oh no, your Highness, such a hardship is not to be thought of.  The Castle of Gutenfels, standing above us, is comfortable as any on the Rhine.  Its owner, the Count Palatine, is fellow-Elector of yours, and a very close friend of my overlord of Mayence, and I am told they vote together whenever my overlord needs his assistance.”