A servitor took away the lame horse; another waited on Father Ambrose in
his small room, which was simple as that of a monastery cell, and as
meagerly furnished. After a slight refection, Father Ambrose received
peremptory command to rest for three full hours, the lady of the Castle
saying it was impossible for her to receive him until that time had
elapsed. The order was welcome to the tired monk, although he knew how
impatient Hildegunde must be to unpack his budget of news, and he fell
asleep even as he gave instructions that he should be awakened at nine.

Descending at that time, the supper hour of the Castle, he found a
dainty meal awaiting him, flanked by a flagon of that rare wine which he
sipped so sparingly.

"I lodged with my brethren in their small and quiet monastery on the
opposite side of the Main from Frankfort, in that suburb of the
workingmen which is called Sachsenhausen. Even if my eyes had not seen
the desolation of the city, with the summer grass growing in many of its
streets, the description given of its condition by my brethren would
have been saddening enough to hear. All authority seems at an end. The
nobles have fled to their country estates, for defense in the city is
impossible should once a universal riot break out, and thinking men look
for an insurrection when continued hunger has worn down the patience of
the people. Up to the present sporadic outbreaks have been cruelly
suppressed, starving men falling mutilated before the sword-cuts of the
soldiers; but now disaffection has penetrated the ranks of the Army
itself, through short rations and deferred pay, and when the people
learn that the military are more like to join them than oppose,
destruction will fall upon Frankfort. The Emperor sits alone in drunken
stupor, and it is said cannot last much longer, he who has lasted too