tions, with little
care whether they met with his sovereign's approval or not.

To his surprise, however, Barbarossa listened gravely, but without any
marks of disapprobation.

"I should be wrong," he said, "to make any further opposition to a love
which has survived so many trials. Bonello acted badly, but I have
since learned he is not implicated in this new confederation, although
his refusal may have been really perilous to his own safety, and this
deserves some consideration. I approve of your choice, Erwin, and wish
you every happiness; but the roads are unsafe, and I cannot now give
you the proper escort."

"The insurgents will respect my pilgrim's cape," replied the young man.

It was true, the pious spirit of this age forgot every party feeling in
presence of the crusader's staff, and even Frederic's hatred was
obliged to do this justice to his adversaries.

Rechberg left the Emperor to search for his faithful Gero. As he passed
through the palace he met a nobleman who was entering at the gates. It
was Heribert of Rapallo.

"Have you aught to lay before His Majesty, sir knight?" asked Rechberg.

"Yes, if you will assist me," replied Heribert, who was attracted by
the frank demeanor of our hero; "but I can find no one to present me to
him. I have already spoken fruitlessly to several persons, but it is
absolutely necessary that I communicate to the Emperor a message from
the lady of Castellamare. I must speak with him."

"The lady of Castellamare!" said Erwin, whose heart was beating
violently.

"As you are the only person who has shown me any courtesy, you shall
know the whole affair. Hermengarde, for so the lady is named, has been
betrothed for six years past to the Emperor's cousin, the famous Count
Erwin of Rechberg. But the Count went to Palestine, where, it is said,
he fell a victim to the Saracens; and Bonello, the lady's father, now
wishes her to choose another husband."

"And Hermengarde?" said Erwin, trembling.

"She will obey, provided the Count be really dead, but she still doubts
the fact."

The young man grew pale.

"Count Rechberg!" he spoke wildly as if he scarcely knew the import of
his words. "But I have heard of him; I think that I remember."

"Where then is he? does he live?" inquired Rapallo, with a voice of
mixed joy and sadness.

"He does live."

"God be thanked!"

"Do you know him who seeks Hermengarde's love?" asked Rechberg.

"It is I."

"And yet you would rejo