The orange marble pillars glowing in the light of a hundred lamps gave the chamber a dazzling brightness; the windows were screened by scarlet silk curtains, and crystal bowls of purple flowers stood on the serpentine floor.

On a low gilt couch against the wall sat Theirry, his gold armour half concealed by a violet and ermine mantle; round his close dark hair was a wreath of red roses, and the long pearls in his ears glimmered with his movements.

Opposite him on a throne supported by basalt lions was Michael II, robed in gold and silver tissues under a dalmatica of orange and crimson brocade.

“It is done,” he said in a low eager voice, “and tomorrow I crown you in St. Peter’s church; Theirry, it is done.”

“Truly our fortunes are marvellous,” answered Theirry, “today — when I heard the Princes elect me — an unknown adventurer! — when I heard the mob of Rome shout for me — I thought I had gone mad!”

“It is I who have done this for you,” said the Pope softly.

Theirry seemed to shudder in his gorgeous mail.

“Are you afraid of me?” the other asked. “Why do you so seldom look at me?”

Theirry slowly turned his beautiful face.

“I am afraid of my own fortunes — I am not as bold as you,” he said fearfully. “You never hesitated to sin.”

The Pope moved, and his garments sparkled against the gleaming marble wall.

“I do not sin,” he smiled. “I am Sin — I do no evil for I am Evil — but you”— his face became grave, almost sad —“you are very human, better had it been for me never to have met you!” He placed his little hands either side of him on the smooth heads of the basalt lions. “Theirry — for your sake I have risked everything, for your sake maybe I must leave this strange fair life and go back whence I came — so much I care for you, so dearly have I kept the

vows we made in Frankfort — cannot you meet with courage the destiny I offer you?” Theirry hid his face in his hands.

The Pope flushed, and a wild light sparkled in his dark eyes.

“Was not your blood warmed by that charge at Tivoli? When knight and horse fell before your spears and your host humbled an Emperor, when Rome rose to greet you and I came to meet you with a kingdom for a gift, did not some fire creep into your veins that might serve to heat you now?”

“A kingdom!” cried Theirry, “the kingdom of Antichrist. The victory was not mine — the cohorts of the Devil galloped beside us and urged us to unholy triumph — Rome is a place of horror, full of witches, ghosts and strange beasts!

“You said you would be Emperor,” answered the Pope. “And I have granted you your wish, if you fail me or betray me now...it is over — for both of us.”

Theirry rose and paced the chamber.

“Ay, I will be Emperor,” he cried feverishly. “Theirry of Dendermonde crowned by the Devil in St. Peter’s church — why should I hesitate? I am on the road to hell, to hell...” The Pope fixed ardent eyes on him.

“And if ye fail me ye shall go there instantly.”

Theirry stopped in his pacing to and fro.

“Why do you say to me so often, ‘do not fail me, do not betray me’?”

Michael II answered in a low voice.

“Because I fear it.”

Theirry laughed desperately.

“To whom should I betray you! It seems that you have all the world!”

“There is Jacobea of Martzburg.”

“Why do you sting me with that name!”

“Belike I thought ye might wish to make her your Empress,” said the Pope in sudden mockery. Theirry pressed his hand to his brow.

“She believes in God...what is such to me?” he cried.

“The other day you lied to me, saying you knew not where she was — and straightway ye visited her.”

“This is your spy’s work, Ursula of Rooselaare.”

“Maybe,” answered the Pope.

Theirry paused before the basalt throne.

“Tell me of her. She follows me — I— I— know not what to think, she has been much in my mind of late, since I—” He broke off, and looked moodily at the ground. “Where has she been these years — what does she mean to do now?”

“She will not trouble you again,” answered Michael II, “let her go.”

“I cannot — she said I had seen her face —”

“Well, if you have? — take it from me she is not fair.”

“I do not think of her fairness,” answered Theirry sullenly, “but of the mystery there is behind all of it —— why you never told me of her before, and why she haunts me with witches in her train.”

The Pope looked at him curiously.

“For one who has never been an ardent lover ye dwell much on women — I had rather you thought on battles and kingdoms — had I been a — were I you, dancer and nun alike would be nothing to me compared with my coronation on the morrow.”

Theirry replied hotly.

“Dancer and nun, as ye term them, are woven in with all I do, I cannot, if I would, forget them. Ah, that I ever came to Rome — would I were still a Chamberlain at Basil’s Court or a merchant’s clerk in India!”

He covered his face with his trembling hands and turned away across the golden room. The Pope rose in his seat and pressed his jewelled fingers against his breast.

“Would ye had never come my way to be my ruin and your own — would you were not such a sweet fair fool that I must love you!...and so, we make ourselves the mock of destiny by these complaints. Oh, if you have the desire to be king show the courage to dare a kingly fate.”

Theirry leant against one of the orange marble pillars, the violet mantle falling away from his golden armour, the fainting roses lying slackly in his dark hair.

“You must think me a coward,” he said, “and I have been very weak — but that, I think, is passed; I have reached the summit of all the greatness I ever dreamed and it confuses me, but when the Imperial crown is mine you shall find me bold enough.”

Michael II flushed and gave a dazzling smile.

“Then are we great indeed! — we shall join hands across the fairest dominion men ever ruled, Suabia is ours, Bohemia and Lombardy, France courts our alliance, Cyprus, the isle of Candy and Malta town, in Rhodes they worship us, and Genoa town owns us master!”

He paused in his speech and stepped down from the throne.

“Do you remember that day in Antwerp, Theirry, when we looked in the mirror?” he said, and his voice was tender and beautiful; “we hardly dared then to think of this.”

“We saw a gallows in that mirror,” answered Theirry, “a gallows tree beside the triple crown.” “It was for our enemies!” cried Michael; “our enemies whom we have triumphed over; Theirry, think of it, we were very young then, and poor — now I have kings at my footstool, and you will sleep tonight in the Golden Palace of the Aventine!” He laughed joyously. Theirry’s face grew gentle at the old memories.

“The house still stands, I wot,” he mused, “though the dust be thick over the deserted rooms and the vine chokes the windows — when I was in the East, I have thought with great joy of Antwerp.”

The Pope laid his delicate fragrant hand on the glittering vambrace.

“Theirry — do you not value me a little now?”

Theirry smiled, into the ardent eyes.

“You have done more for me than man or God, and above both I do you worship,” he answered wildly. “I am not fearful any more, and tomorrow ye shall see me a king indeed.”

“Until tomorrow then, farewell. I must attend a Conclave of the Cardinals and show myself unto the multitude in St. Peter’s church. You to the palace, on the Aventine, there to sleep soft and dream of gold.”

They clasped hands, a hot colour was in the Pope’s face.

“The Syrian guards wait below and the Lombard archers who stood beside you at Tivoli — they will attend you to the Imperial Palace.”

“What shall I do there?” asked Theirry. “It is early yet, and I do not love to sit alone.”

“Then, come to the service in the Basilica — come with a bold bearing and a rich dress to overawe these mongrel crowds of Rome.”

To that Theirry made no answer.

“Farewell,” he said, and lifted the scarlet curtain that concealed the door, “until to — morrow.” The Pope came quickly to his side.

“Do not go to Jacobea to-night,” he said earnestly. “Remember, if you fail me now —” “I shall not fail you or myself, again — farewell.”

His hand was on the latch when Michael spoke once more —

“I grieve to let you go,” he murmured in an agitated tone. “I have not before been fearful, but to-night Theirry smiled.

“You have no cause to dread anything, you with your foot on the neck of the world.” He opened the door on to the soft purple light of the stairs and stepped from the room.

In a half-stifled voice the P............