The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1897-07-04
AN INVITATION.
The Expensive Banquet That Was Furnished to His
High and Mighty LOrdShip Archbishop
Baldwin of TreVeS.


/ Starkenburg. Her days of widowhood.
however, are surely past, for 1 intend
to marry her to one of my victorious
knights, who will hold the castle for
me-
The Countess of starkenburg," said
| the monk, must surely now be at an
age when the thoughts turn toward
heaven rather than toward matri-
mony."
Il have yet to meet the woman re-
piled the archbishop, gazing upward,
+ who pleads old age as an excuse for
turning away from suitable lover.
I 1t is my misfortune, Gottlefb, that in
/ choosing a wooden cowl rather than an
/ iron headpiece, thou shouldest thus
have lost a chance of advancement.
/ The castle, am told, has well-flled
wine vaults, and an old age in wine is
+ doubtless more to thy taste than the
same quality in woman. tbs pity
thou art not knight, Gottleib.''
THE fault is not beyond the power
ial dispensation, replied the monk
with chuckle.
The elector laughed kindly and
looked down on his comraGe in kindly
fashion, shaking his head.
The wines of castle Starkenburg
are not for thy appreciative palate,
ghostly father. have already selected
I
And what if tsay selection jumps not
with her approval. They tell me the
countess has a will of her own"
1T matters little to me- and 1 give
her the choice merely because l am
loathe to war with a woman. The cas-
tie commands the river and holds the
district. The widow may give it up
peaceably at the altar or forcibly at
| the point of the sword, whichever
method commends itself to her lady
ship. The castle must be in the hands
of one whom l can trust
The conversation here met a startling
interruption. The archbishop and his
guard were trotting rapidly round
promontory, and following the bend of
the river, the nature of the country be-
ing such that it was impossible to see
many hundred feet ahead of them. Sud
denly they came upon troop of armed
and mounted men, standing like statues
before them. The troop numbered an
even score and completely filled the
way between the precipice on their
left and the stream on their right. AL
though armed, every sword was in its
scabbard, with the exception of the
long. two-handled weapon of the lead
er, who stood a few PAGES in advance
of his men, with the point of his sword
resting on the ground. The black
horse, old in campaigns, recognized
danger ahead and stopped instantly
without waiting for the drawing of the
rein. planting his two forefeet firmly
in front with a suddenness of action
that would have endorsed a less alert
rider Before the archbishop could
question the silent host that barred his
way, their leader raised his long sword
until it stood perpendicularly in the
air above his head, and with a loud
voice. in measured tones, as one re-
peats a lesson he has learned by rote,
he cried: My lord, Archbishop. of
Treves, the Countess Lauretta Won
Starkenburg invites you to sup with
her.
In the silence that followed, the lead
er's sword still remained poised IN
trembling in the air. Across the mar
row gorge from the wooded sides of the
opposite mountains, came with mock
ing cadence the echo of the last words
of the invitation, clear and distinct, as
if spoken again by some one concealed
in the forest. A deep frown darkened
the brow of the fighting archbishop
The countess is most kind" he said
slowly. Convey TO her my respectful
admiration, and express my deep regret
that am unable to accept her hospital
ity, as 1 ride tonight 10 my castle az
Cochem."
The leader Of the opposing host sud
denly lowered his appraised sword as if
in salute, but the motion seemed to be
q DrecOncerted signal, for every man
behind him instantly whipped blade
from scabbard and stood there with
naked weapon DISPLAYED. The leader !
raising his sword once more to its for
mer position, repeated in the same loud
and monotonous voice, as if the arch !
bishop had not spoken:
My lord archbishop of Treves. the !
Countess Laurette Won Starkenburg in |
vites you to sup with her.
The intelligent war horse. who had |
regarded the obstructing force with !
head held high, retreated slowly step
by step, until now a considerable dis
lance separated the two companies. The |
captain Of the guard had seen from the |
first that attack or defense were equally l
useless, and, with his men, had also !
given way gradually as the strange col
loquy went on. Whether any of the op-
posing force noticed this or not, they |
made no attempt TO recover the ground |
thus almost imperceptibly stolen from |
them, but stood as if each horse were
rooted TO the spot.
Baldwin, the fighter. whose COM
pressed lips showed how 10th he was to
turn back upon any fee. nevertheless
saw the futility of resistance, and in a
duick, clear whisper, he said hastily:
Back backi If we cannot fight them.
we can az least OUTRAGE hem
The good monk had taken advantage
Of his privilege as a non-combatant to
retreat We'll 10 the rear while the invita-
ton was being given and declined. and
in the succeeding flight now found him
self leading the van. The captain of
the guard threw himself between the
Starkenburg men and the prince of the
church. but the former made no effort
at pursuit, standing where they had
stood from the first until the rounding
promontory hid them from view. Sud-
denly the horse on which the monk
rode stood stock still. and the worthy
man, with cry of alarm, clinging to
the animals name, shot over his head
ana came heavily to the ground The
whole flying troop came 10 a halt. for
mere ahead of them was a band exactly
similar in numbers and appearance to
hat from which they were. galloping. 1t
seemd as if the same troop had heen
by magic across the prom
1ntcry and placed across the way. The
sun shone on the uDlifted blade of the
eader, reminding the archbishop of
ne flaming sword that barred the en-
trance of our first parents to paradise
rhe leader. with ringing voice that had
I touch of menace in it, cried:
My Lord Archbishop of Treves@The
Countess Lourette Won Starkenburg in
rites you TO sup with her"
Trapped, by Cod" muttered the
>lector between his clenched teeth. His
yes sparkled with anger, and the sin
ster light that shot from them had he
ore now made the emperor quail. He
'purred his horse toward the leader.
Who lowered his sword and bowed to
he great disnitary approaching him.
The Countess OF Starkenburg is my
rassal.' cried the archbishop You are
Ter servants, and in much greater de-