Good-night. I thank you, my
Lord, for your courtesy," and the energetic youth disappeared before the
slow-thinking Archbishop could call up words with which to reply.
Cologne did not immediately rejoin his guests, but stood a very figure
of perplexity, muttering to himself:
"If our friend Mayence thinks that youngster is to be molded like soft
clay, he is very much mistaken. I hope Roland will not cause him to feel
the iron hand too soon. I wonder why Mayence is delaying the Election?
Can it be that already he distrusts his choice, or is it the question of
a wife?"
Meanwhile the front door of the Archbishop's Palace had clanged shut,
and Roland strode across the square careless or unconscious of spies,
looking neither to the right nor to the left. He made his way speedily
to the Fahrgasse, walking down that thoroughfare until he came to Herr
Goebel's door, where he knocked, and was admitted. Ushered into the room
where he had parted from the merchant, he found Herr Goebel seated at
his table as if he had never left it.
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