"The fool!" whispered Faustina to Messalinda, with a glance in the direction where Yolande sought to efface herself--"to hint at death to a king who would like to believe himself immortal as a god."
"Ay," retorted Messalinda, "and to hint it now when they say that the plague creeps abroad."
Robert now addressed the obsequious prelate: "My lord archbishop, escort this coffer into the chapel and give your ceremonial rein. Attend him, lords and ladies," he continued, turning to his retinue; "for ourselves we will linger awhile in this sunlight, having some thoughts of weight to change with the Lord Hildebrand. We will bless you with our presence by-and-by."
Obedient to the King's somewhat contemptuous dismissal, all those that had accompanied Robert to the summit of the mountain now made haste to leave him alone with his favorite. Priests and courtiers, ladies and soldiers, a glittering line, ascended the stone steps that led to the chapel and disappeared within its doors. The rear of the procession was brought up by the King's Varangian body-guard, under the captain, Sigurd Olafson, a young Norseman, whose yellow hair and bright blue eyes made him a conspicuous figure in the thick of so many Southern forms and faces.
When the church doors had closed upon the last of the company, Robert turned a smiling face upon his friend.
"Do you think, Hildebrand," he questioned, "that I came here for this mummery in my father's monument?"
"I never question your Majesty's thoughts or deeds," Hildebrand answered, deferentially. "They are oracles and miracles to your slave."
The King's face yielded a ready brightness to a flattery that never staled.
"I will tell you my true purpose instantly," he said. "But first I have a task for you."
He took Hildebrand by the arm and drew him through the first fringe of the pine wood to the space where Theron's home stood, the mosque with its circle of pillars.
Hildebrand eyed the two beautiful ruins with frank indifference.
"Some pagan pillars," he answered, "and the praying-place of the followers of Mahomet."
"It is to my mind a lovelier shrine than the gaudy box we have just been gaping at," Robert said; and then went on, answering the surprise in his companion's face: "You shall learn why by-and-by. In the mean time know that it is the dwelling of Theron the executioner."