“That is true,” commented Cologne.

“My overlord sent word that anything I needed for the accommodation of her ladyship, he recognizing that my warning had been short, I should requisition from the Count Palatine, so at midday I went up to call upon him, not saying anything, of course, about State prisoners, male or female.  The moment he heard that you, my Lord, were visiting this neighborhood, he begged me to tender to you, and to all your companions or following, the hospitality of his Castle for so long as you might honor him with your presence.”

“The Count Palatine is very gracious, and I shall be glad to accept shelter and refreshment.”

“He would have been here to greet your Highness, but I was unable to inform him at what hour you would arrive, so I waited for you myself, and will be pleased to guide you to the gates of Gutenfels.”

The conversation was interrupted by a great clatter of galloping horses, descending the hill with reckless speed, and at its foot swinging round into the main street of the town.

“Ha!” cried the amateur jailer, “here is the Count Palatine himself;” and thus it is our fate to meet the fourth Elector of the Empire, who, added to the three Archbishops, formed a quorum so potent that it could elect or depose an Emperor at will.

The cavalry of the Count Palatine was composed of fifty fully-armed men, and their gallop through the town roused the echoes of that ancient bailiwick, which, together with the Castle, belonged to the Palatinate.  The powerful noble extended a cordial welcome to his fellow-Elector, and together they mounted to the Castle of Gutenfels.

At dinner that night the Count Palatine proved an amiable host.  Under his geniality the charming Countess von Sayn gradually recovered her lost good spirits, and forgot she was on her way to prison.  After all, she was young, naturally joyous, and loved interesting company, especially that of the two Electors, who were well informed, and had seen much of the world.  The Archbishop also shook off some of his somberness; indeed, all of it as the flagons flowed.  Being asked his preference in wine, he replied that yesterday he had been regaled with a very excellent sample of Oberweseler.

“That is from this neighborhood,” replied the Count.  “Oberwesel lies but a very short distance below, on the opposite side of the river, but we contend that our beverage of Caub is at least equal, and sometimes superior.  You shall try a good vintage of both.  How did you come by Oberweseler so far north as Stolzenfels?”

“Simply because I was so forward, counting on the good nature of my friend of Treves, that I stipulated for Oberweseler.”

“Ah!  I am anxious to know why.”

“For reasons of history, not of the palate.  A fair English Princess was guest of Stolzenfels long ago, and this wine was served to her.”

“In that case,” returned the Count, “I also shall fall back on history, and first order brimming tankards of old Caub.  Really, Madam,” he said, turning to Hildegunde, “we should have had Royalty here to meet you, instead of two old wine-bibbers like his Highness and myself.”