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Page 51
Rodolph paused, and Gilbert, struck dumb with surprise, gazed up into
his face.
"It is late, my son," he resumed, "and we must part. Is there anything
you would ask before leaving me?"
"There is to be a tournament to-morrow," the youth faltered out.
"And you would take part, in spite of my discourse," said the duke, with
a smile.
Gilbert's reddening cheeks answered for him.
"I must forbid you to couch lance to-morrow," said Rodolph, tenderly;
"you shall receive your spurs at my hands when I am king, but let me be
the judge of the time. And remember, my son," he added, detaining
Gilbert as the latter was about to retire, "remember what you have seen
this night. When men shall question my motives, and extol or condemn
me, you may say that Rodolph of Suabia was inspired by ambition to seek
the crown, but that when it was within his grasp, he would have turned
from it in disgust, had not conscience and patriotism compelled him to
wear it."
As Gilbert, deeply moved, kissed his hand and withdrew, Rodolph retired
to an oratory into which his apartments opened. He had been there
engaged in prayer for more than an hour, when the Archbishop of Mayence
appeared, and, after a brief adoration, entered the confessional. There,
in the silent hour of midnight, the king knelt before the priest, in
obedience to the voice of that God who bequeathed us a Church to
administer the Sacraments which He appointed for our salvation, and
through which we can only attain it. When Rodolph sat again in his
chamber, his brow was calmer and his eye softer and brighter.
The morning of the twenty-sixth of March dawned calm and bright. A warm
sun suddenly interrupted a long-protracted spell of cold weather, the
snow rapidly disappeared from the fields and streets, and the credulous
saw a happy omen in the genial spring day that broke through the icy
fetters of winter to greet the coronation. A splendid procession moved
to the cathedral, and during the celebration of Solemn High Mass,
Sigefroy, Archbishop of Mayence, crowned and consecrated Rodolph
rightful king and defender of the kingdom of the Franks.
After the ceremony, the nobles assembled to witness the tournament,
where the newly crowned monarch presided with a crowd of barons at his
side. Gilbert stood at some distance from the royal person, and watched
the tilting with all-absorbing interest. Henry of Stramen displayed so
much address and managed his horse with so much skill that Gilbert could
scarce forbear to join in the applause rendered by those around him. So
intent was he upon the lists that a citizen by his side had, unobserved
by him, severed the links of a massive gold chain which he wore around
his neck, and had concealed it in his gown. But a page who had perceived
the theft, throttled the culprit and drew the chain from its
hiding-place. The man was ordered to prison, and Gilbert had forgotten
the occurrence, when the assembly was disturbed by loud cries and
imprecations from without. Gilbert quick as thought passed through the
doorway and stood in the street. The bourgeois of Mayence were zealous
partisans of Henry, and had already scowled upon the honors paid to his
rival. The maltreatment of their townsman had kindled the spark of
discontent to flame. They had attacked the soldiers of Rodolph, who, as
was customary, attended the joust unarmed, and had rescued the thief. As
Gilbert stood watching the tumult, he was singled out as the object of
attack, probably at the direction of the citizen who had suffered in the
attempt to steal his chain. The situation of the young noble, clad only
in a velvet doublet and armed only with a light sword, was extremely
precarious. Yet he did not dream of flight, but for a time kept his
assailants at bay, slowly falling back upon the arena. A number of
soldiers issuing from the pavilion gathered around him, but, shorn of
their weapons, they could only parry without returning the blows of
their adversaries, who were well supplied with stones and clubs.
Gilbert had not left the lists unobserved by Rodolph, who immediately
despatched a page to watch his movements. When informed of his young
friend's danger, he arose and cried in a loud voice:
"Gentlemen, we would not have you meddle in this affray: a party of my
men have gone for their arms, and it will speedily be terminated. But
the son of Albert de Hers is now overpowered by these boors. Let some
one hasten to his rescue!"
Three young knights at once dismounted and passed out: the foremost bore
in his crest a long dark plume.
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