brought. Growing angry at this delay, he gave orders that
the bolts and bars should be wrenched from the gates, and efforts to do
this were begun.

While this was going on, the archbishop was in deep affliction. He had
just learned that the king was in Utrecht with an army, and imagined
that he had come with hostile purpose, and had taken the city through
the carelessness of the porters. Followed by his clergy, he hastened to
where the king was trying to force a passage through the gates, and
addressed him appealingly, reminding him that justice and equity were
due from kings to subjects.

"Your armed bands, I fear, have taken this city," he said, "and you have
ordered the locks to be broken that you may expel the inhabitants, and
replace them with persons favorable to your own interests. If you
propose to act thus against justice and mercy, you injure me, your
chancellor, and lessen your own honor. I exhort you, therefore, to
restore me the city which you have unjustly taken, and relieve the
inhabitants from violence."

The king listened in silence and surprise to this harangue, which was
much longer than we have given it. At its end, he said,--

"Venerable pastor and bishop, you have much mistaken my errand in
Utrecht. I come here in the cause of justice, not of violence. You know
that it is the duty of kings to repress wars and punish the disturbers
of peace. It is this that brings us here, to put an end to the private
war which we learn is being waged. As it stands, we have not conquered
the city, but it has conquered us. To convince you that no harm is meant
to Bishop Henry and his good city of Utrecht, we will command our men to
repair to their hostels, lay down their arms, and pass their time in
festivity. But first the purpose for which we have come must be
accomplished, and this private feud be brought to an end."

That the worthy archbishop was delighted to hear these words, need not
be said. His fears had not been without sound warrant, for those were
days in which kings were not to be trusted, and in which the cities
maintained a degree of political independence that often proved
inconvenient to the throne. As may be imagined, the keys were quickly
forthcoming and the gates thrown open, the king being relieved from his
involuntary detention, and given an opportunity to bring the bishop's
battle to an end.

He was too late; it had already reached its end. While King William was
striving to get out of