Chapter XIII · CASTELLAMARE.

Rechberg's visit to Castellamare opened to him a future replete with new hopes and desires and fond aspirations. He resolved to study attentively the character of his young hostess; and, if the examination proved favorable, to demand her father's consent to their marriage. But he experienced a cruel uncertainty, when he reflected upon the possible opposition of the Emperor.

On her part, the young girl made no secret of her gratitude to the Count. The memory of his kindness to her father rendered her cordiality perfectly natural.

Her attentions to Erwin were delicately prompted by a wish to make his visit as agreeable as possible. With a keen appreciation of the beauties of nature, she knew how to select the fairest landscapes, and would point out to her guest all the most brilliant effects of light and shade among the lofty crags.

After a week had passed in amusements of this kind, on their return from a neighboring excursion, Hermengarde and the Count found the court-yard filled with horses and men-at-arms fraternizing, cordially, with her father's retainers. Evidently some persons of importance had arrived, but the appearance of their steeds denoted that the visit was to be a brief one.

As they crossed the court, Hermengarde remarked a familiar face among the troopers; the man looked up, and, putting down the goblet from which he was drinking, approached with a respectful bow. She at once recognized Cocco Griffi, whom she had known as a confidential servant of the Milanese consul Gherardo Nigri, in whose palace he was often intrusted with many important duties.

"Is that you, Griffi?" she asked. "Whence come you?"

"From Milan."

"And whose suite is this?"

"It belongs to our noble Consul Gherardo Nigri--your old friend,--if I may still venture to call him so?" added Griffi, seeing Hermengarde's expression change.

A marriage between herself and Pietro had long been projected by the heads of the two families; but, in spite of her father's anxiety for their union, it was repugnant to her, and she hurriedly retired to her own apartments, with a heavy heart. Still, for the present, the businesslike appearance of the little troop seemed a guarantee against the realization of her fears.

Gherardo Nigri, the leading spirit of the Milanese Republic, had been hastily recalled from Genoa, where he had been for some time negotiating an alliance, offensive and defensive, between the two cities. The report of the immediate advance of the Emperor's powerful army greatly discouraged him; for, fully penetrating Barbarossa's designs, he foresaw, in a not far distant future, the fall, and perhaps the total destruction, of his proud city. Similar fears agitated all those who had accompanied him to Castellamare. Among them was one, in ecclesiastical costume, whose exterior indicated a personage of importance. This was Galdini Sala, Archdeacon of the Cathedral, and destined, as Archbishop of Milan, afterwards to play an important part in the history of his country. By nature taciturn and reflective,--his eyes usually downcast,--Sala became animated and bold whenever it became necessary to assert the rights of the Church, which alone could resist human passion and the encroachments of Imperial despotism. Consequently, Galdini's opposition to Barbarossa was more than violent.

"The circumstances are most serious," said Bonello; "but we must not forget that God alone is the arbiter of human destiny. Barbarossa seeks to unite in his own person the spiritual and the temporal power; but we have seen others, as bold and powerful as he, fail in the like attempt."

"You are right," replied Gherardo; "no power can subdue the Church. The papacy is eternal,--as immovable as the rock on which it is built, and which, God has promised, shall endure forever. But, alas! dear Guido, what fearful disasters must result from the strife which is now preparing!"

"It would be easy to prove," said Galdini Sala, "that the Church has never had an enemy so dangerous to her peace as this same Barbarossa. From the times of Nero until the conversion of Constantine, the bloody tyrants strove only to tear away her members. Frederic does not tear away; he stifles! his deadly work is the more dangerous, that it is wrought in silence. The Pagans would have overthrown Christianity, in order to prevent their own conversion; but this despot seeks to destroy the order of things which has existed for centuries. The Roman Emperors sought to protect and save their own paganism. Frederic would subvert the Christian world, in order to build up, upon its ruins, his own Imperial omnipotence."

"I am not well versed in history," said Count Biandrate, a secret partisan of Barbarossa; "but I know of other emperors who were decidedly hostile to the Papacy: Henry IV. for example."

"True," replied Sala; "but the Church has saved the world from destruction. The military operations of Henry IV. against her were terrible; his hatred for the Papacy, beyond all bounds; but Barbarossa is still more to be feared. In him you see none of that cruelty which marked Henry's conduct; on the contrary, he appears frank, and generous, and brave, and he well knows how to surround himself with all that can flatter the eyes. So far, he has not attacked the Pope, sword in hand; but he holds his nets ready to throw over Spain and England, Germany and France, in order to ensnare all Christendom in his baneful schism. It is to this end that he never ceases to proclaim his regret for the sorrows of the Holy Church, and his great desire for the acknowledgment of the legitimate Pope, and the downfall of heresy. All hypocrisy, diabolical equivocation!" cried Sala, angrily; "it is he himself who has caused the schism; it is he who has wounded the unity of the Church, in order the more easily to destroy her. He seeks to control everything,--to become the master of the Universe,--and will brook neither a superior nor an equal!"

"Your words, my lord Archdeacon, are harrowing, but they are not exaggerated," said Nigri. "And it is the more to be regretted that many refuse to see their peril. Genoa, through jealousy of Milan, is wilfully blind and will not reflect that the time may come, when she too will feel the yoke. Barbarossa is skilful in taking advantage of these dissensions between us Lombards. His policy is to destroy, one by one, our cities; so that Italy may count none but insignificant villages, submissive to his Imperial supremacy."

"According to my belief," said Guido, "I repeat what I have already declared:--God alone holds the destinies of the world in his power. What Barbarossa tries now, many others have attempted, but the efforts of all have proved abortive; Frederic will not be more successful. Then, dear friends, trust in God, and do your duty; the rest will come in good time."

At these words he raised his goblet, the others imitated his example; but in spite of his efforts, the meeting was disheartened and depressed, and shortly after the consul observed that it was time to think of their journey.

"We have no time to lose," said he, "for there is much to be done in Milan; it will be hard enough to resist the attack."

They mounted to return to the city, and Bonello watched from the window, the little troop as it wound through the valley.

"Farewell, dear Gherardo," said he sadly; "perhaps this has been our last meeting! How gladly they hasten to shed their hearts' blood for their liberty, their Church, and their country! while I, unhappy wretch! am doomed by my promise, to sloth and inaction!"

The cavalcade disappeared from his gaze, and he reentered the family room, when Count Rechberg communicated his intention of leaving the castle on the following day.

"Why this haste, Count?" said Guido. "I trust that you have had no cause to regret your visit?"

"Oh! by no means, but I must go. The Emperor granted me only eight days' leave of absence, and I must not exceed them."

"You have no cause for such haste," resumed the Lombard, sadly. "Milan is well supplied with everything, and her fortifications are strong. Months may elapse before Barbarossa can take the city."

"The Emperor's will is energetic," replied Erwin.

"Oh! I well know that iron will!" said Guido. "Frederic will destroy the works, and reduce the citadel by famine; but still before this happens, many weary days will pass. Some months hence, you will still be in time for the fighting. Stay with us. We will go to Genoa together, and look upon the wonders of that proud city; we will visit her churches, her magnificent palaces, her dock-yards, and her fleet; there is much there to repay you for the journey, and, if you wish it, we can cross over to Corsica."

But nothing could influence the youth's resolve, although it was with deep regret that he left Bonello and his daughter; both of whom reiterated their warmest thanks.

"Permit me, dear Count, to offer you a trifling souvenir," said the lord of the castle, drawing a heavy gold chain from a casket. "Wear this in remembrance of me, and may our friendship ever remain as pure and true as this noble metal! Have you nothing, Hermengarde, to give to our worthy friend?"

At these words, the young girl took from one of her waiting-women a richly chiselled cup of gold, on whose cover was sculptured St. George trampling upon the Dragon.

"Deign to accept this slight mark of our friendship and gratitude!" said she.

"I trust, my dear Count, that we shall meet again ere long," added Guido. "Milan is not far distant, and an excursion to our mountains will break the monotony of your camp-life."

"I will gladly avail myself on every possible occasion of your invitation," answered Rechberg. "Farewell, dear Bonello; God keep you, noble lady!"

And as she extended him her hand, he knelt and kissed it.

Guido accompanied his guest to the court-yard, and in a few moments, the hoofs of the knight's charger were ringing upon the drawbridge of the castle.