gayety, and the steward rushed in every direction,
arranging and disarranging, ordering, scolding, and hastening on the
preparations.

The chaplain of the castle alone remained calm, in the midst of the
general confusion. Evidently, some unusual occurrence condemned him to
idleness, for his callous hands showed that his occupations were not
purely intellectual. The servants generally abandoned to him everything
which they refused to do, and his appearance was rather that of a
stable-boy than an ecclesiastic. Although he had received but a limited
education, Rainulph felt the impropriety of such behavior, and often
complained that his spiritual functions were not regarded with becoming
reverence. But his murmurs rarely reached the Count's ear, and when
they did, little attention was paid to them; for Haro, always at Court,
knew too well the Emperor's course towards the Pope to be respectful to
his own chaplain.

"Since the Pope," he told him, "obeys Frederic's orders, you must make
up your mind to do as I tell you."

But the chaplain of Rivoli was suddenly aroused from his inactivity by
a shrill voice.

"How is this, sluggard?" cried the angry steward; "the stable is not
swept yet, everything is out of place, and the horses of His Majesty
and the Court will be here directly!"

"I don't care," answered Rainulph; "the manure may stay there; I shall
not touch it!"

The steward could not believe his ears. The conduct of the formerly
submissive chaplain seemed inexplicable.

"Are you mad? Have you not done that work a hundred times?"

"Yes, and more too! You have made me do the most menial drudgery, and I
have complained in vain; but it is different to-day."

"I suppose that you hardly intend to appeal to the Emperor?" sneered
the other. "You will make a fine thing of it. Don't you know, fool,
that the Pope and the bishops are as much the servants of the Emperor
as the chaplains are of the Castellan? I tell you it is the custom!"

"It is a bad custom, an impious custom! Priests were not ordained to
clean out stables, but to discharge their sacred calling."

"Ah! what a noble transport! Wait a minute, till I teach you your
duty!"

At that moment a horseman dashed up, and announced that the prelates
were close at hand. The steward raised his eyes to heaven, tore his
hair, ordered the chaplain to be locked up in one of the towers, and,
entering the castle, mounted upon a turret.

"May all the saints aid me!" he