to change my surcoat."

The powerful figure of the young man stood out in bold relief before
the Emperor, who looked upon him with an expression of almost paternal
interest, which softened his stern features.

"How does it happen that we have had no news of you for the last two
years?"

"The Infidels captured me while I was asleep, and for eighteen months I
have been in a dungeon, with scarcely a hope of release, for the ransom
which they demanded was exorbitant."

"I don't blame them," said Frederic, laughing; "you cost them dear
enough. All the pilgrims returning from the Holy Land relate marvels of
your prowess."

"At last the Knights of the Temple stormed the fortress where I was
confined, and delivered me."

"Ah! the Templars!--Valiant warriors! Their courage is wonderful, and
their daring amounts wellnigh to rashness; but how did you get back to
Europe?"

"On a Norman ship, which landed me at Tarentum."

"Well! you will tell me all your adventures when we have more leisure.
I look forward with pleasure to their recital. But you arrived most
opportunely for the celebrations of our late victories. We are to crown
Pascal to-morrow in the Church of St. Peter."

Rechberg made no answer, but his face wore a pained expression.

"As I have just returned from Palestine," he said, after a brief pause,
"I trust, my dear godfather, that you will excuse me from taking part
in Pascal's glorification."

"Very good! I understand," exclaimed the Emperor, with a slight frown.
"The Crusader is not inclined to recognize our Pope! Well, well, be it
so! you shall be entirely free to act in everything which concerns your
conscience."

The two kinsmen continued their conversation until a late hour of the
night.

_CHAPTER LIV_.

_THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY_.

At last the day so anxiously longed for by Barbarossa arrived; the
tents which had been overthrown by the storm were again pitched, and
the Romans completed their preparations for the festival.

Still all hearts appeared to suffer from this fictitious joy; no one
seemed at his ease; a dull presentiment hovered over Rome, where all
felt vaguely that the angel of vengeance was at hand.

A crowd of citizens dressed in holiday attire, was assembled upon the
main road leading from Saint Angelo to the Basilica of St. Peter. The
settled gloom of their features contrasted strikingly with their
brilliant costume, a