"She came to meet the three Archbishops."

"Really? For what purpose?"

"That they might in ecclesiastical form, and upon the highest
ecclesiastical authority, announce her betrothal."

"Announce in Stolzenfels the betrothal of an English Princess, the
daughter of one king and sister of another! Did she, then, marry a
German?"

"Yes; she married the Emperor, Frederick II.; Frederick of
Hohenstaufen."

Slowly the girl turned her head, and looked steadfastly at the
Archbishop, who was gazing earnestly up the road as if to catch a
glimpse of the Castle which had been the scene of the events he related.
Her face became pale, and a questioning wonder rose in her eyes. What
did the Archbishop really mean by this latest historical recital? True,
he was a man who had given much study to ancient lore; rather fond of
exhibiting his proficiency therein when he secured patient listeners.
Could there be any secret meaning in his story of the English Princess
who danced? Was there any hidden analogy between the journey of the
English Isabella, and the short trip taken that day by Hildegunde of
Sayn? She was about to speak when the Archbishop made a slight signal
with his right hand, and a horseman who had followed them all the way
from Coblentz now spurred up alongside of his Lordship, who said sharply
to the newcomer: