"What I say is
true, and it may be that our meeting, turbulent as it has been, will
prevent you from making a great mistake. He whom you would put on the
throne is not the man you think."
"My dear ward!" cried Cologne, "how can you make such accusations
against him? What should a girl living in seclusion as you live, know of
what is passing in Frankfort."
"It seems strange, Guardian, but it is true, nevertheless. Sit down
again, I beg of you, and you, my Lord of Treves. Even my Lord of Mayence
will, I think, comprehend my abhorrence when such a proposal was made to
me, and I hope, my Lord, you will forgive my outburst of anger just
now."
She heard the trembling Treves mutter:
"Mayence never forgives."
"Now, Father Ambrose, come forward."
"Why?" asked Ambrose, waking from his reverie.
"Tell them your experiences in Frankfort."
"I am not allowed to speak," objected the monk.
"Speak, speak!" cried Cologne. "What, sir, have you had to do with this
girl's misleading?"
"I thought," he said wistfully to his kinswoman, "that I was not to
mention my visit to Frankfort unless my Lord the Archbishop brought up
the subject.
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