Removing his hat, the Prince entered into the silence on tiptoe, and
kneeling before the altar, prayed devoutly for direction, asking the
Almighty to turn the thoughts of His servant, Mayence, into channels
that flowed towards peace and the relief of this unhappy city.
As he rose to his feet a weight lifted from his shoulders, and the
buoyancy of youth drove away the depression that temporarily overcame
him on hearing of the army threatening Frankfort. His plans were honest,
his methods conciliatory, and the path now seemed clear before him. The
monk in charge, who had been kneeling in a dark corner near the door,
now came forward to intercept him.
"Will your Highness deny me in the chapel as you did upon the bridge?"
Roland stopped. In the gloom he had not recognized the ghostly Father.
"No, Father Ambrose, and I do now what I should have done then. I pray
your blessing on the enterprise before me."
"My son, it is willingly given, the more willingly that I may atone in
part my forgetting of the Holy Words: 'Judge not, that ye be not
judged.
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