constant struggle between duty and temptation rendered his position a
painful one, and he regretted a hundred times his acceptance of the
mission in which he was now engaged.

One day, in the midst of a profound revery, he heard a light rap at the
door of his apartment.

"Come in!" he cried.

A veiled woman entered, but although she remained covered, Rechberg
recognized her as one of the attendants of the unknown lady whom
Antonio had intrusted to his care. Our hero was ignorant of her rank
and position, for he had never seen her face; and she always remained
in her tent, or else was so deeply veiled that he could neither
distinguish her features nor even the sound of her voice. He often rode
by her side, less through curiosity than as a chivalrous duty; still it
was impossible to penetrate the mystery which enveloped her, and one
thing alone was evident, that she was the victim of some crushing
misfortune.

Now at last, the lady had sent to request his visit, and Rechberg
followed the messenger through many tortuous streets to a house which
seemed chosen with an especial view to retirement and melancholy, and
it was not without emotion that Erwin entered the apartment, where,
surrounded by her attendants, the lady was reclining upon a divan. Upon
his entrance, she rose and advanced a step to reply to his courteous
bow, and then motioned him to a seat. There was a long silence, during
which Erwin looked attentively at the lady, whose stature and dignified
deportment announced to be of high position.

"Count," she said, in a calm, sweet voice, "first let me thank you for
the kind protection which you have given to a very wretched woman.
Pardon me, if I have been compelled, by circumstances, to conceal my
name and character; but I still need your aid, and I trust that, though
unknown, I may count upon it."

"I have merely discharged the duties imposed by the laws of chivalry,"
replied Erwin; "I am always ready to serve you."

"Thank you, my lord. You probably know that His Holiness the Pope
Alexander III. has taken refuge in France, and is at present in a
monastery on the frontiers of the Empire, not for from Laon. It is
there, near to the Father of the faithful, the support of the afflicted
and the unhappy, that I am now going."

She paused for a reply, and it seemed to Erwin that her voice was
familiar, and that he had already heard it at the Court.

"I now learn," she resumed, "that the Holy Father, through