"What say you, Signor Malatesta ?" asked the Pope, breaking this pause, and addressing one of the greatest jurisconsults of the Holy See.

“That I, and my brethren around me," returned Malatesta, reverently, "are agreed, may it please your Holiness, upon this as one of our canon laws, that no proof of crime should be ever accepted against an accused man, without our having first given him a right of self-defence.'

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'Right, most right," rejoined the Pontiff. See, Battista, that Doctor Luther be again summoned. The Servant of servants of the Lord must strive patiently." "

The Pope was in the act of rising to retire. Glad was he at this feasible plea for the procrastination; for, hating from his soul all theological disputes, and looking with a lingering eye upon the fascinations of his life, which he had been so unseasonably called upon to interrupt, he hastened to resurrender himself to their authority.

But while he was thus preparing to depart, Cardinal S. Georgio rose and essayed to speak.

The Pontiff again sank into his chair, and he was obviously nettled at the interruption to his move

ments.

"Pardon me, your Holiness," said S. Georgio, "if I presume to delay our Holy Father. Our brother from far-distant Germany, hath been, I will allow, rude in speech and impetuous in demand. Thus he hath been, and so much so, that I wonder not that this sacred

college hath so summarily declined the proposals of his mission. Nevertheless, suffer me to say that these proposals are of importance, vital. I have learned, not so much from Doctor Eckius, but from other quarters, that the best parts of Germany are in revolt against the Holy See; that this obscure monk Martin hath been able, by his blasphemous daring, to poison the minds of thousands upon thousands against our Holy Father; that, whereas in the times of the blessed Pontiff Julius a million crowns were sent from each commune, for the erection of our temple, this shameless renegade priest so controls the people, that we have not as many scudi. In the name of high art, in the name of the blessed Virgin, in the names of St. Peter and St. Paul, I-unworthy priest as I am-conjure your Holiness to interpose."

Pope Leo half raised himself.

"What says your Eminence? Have our finances for the erection of St. Peter's Temple been thus signally injured?"

"Alas! they have, may it please your Holiness," said the Cardinal.

"Then we care not for canonists," answered the Pontiff, firmly. "This is a rebellion against the State. Are we to wait for a rebel to defend himself? Let a bull of excommunication be prepared against this thief and robber of the Church.'

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Deign to pardon me, Holy Father," said the secretary, "but your Holiness issued a former bull, and this vile wretch Martin burned it."

"Ah!" returned the Pope, "that was one too lenient:

CHAPTER VII.

WE have been observing that great ecclesiastical scene, from the features of which none but the Omniscient could have foreseen the consequences of blind rage, unprincipled cunning, mad precipitancy, that followed. Martin Luther was excommunicated in the most determinate form and language. His works, his person, were devoted to destruction: the former to flames instantly, the latter to flames as devouringly, so soon as the Papal authorities could get hold of it.

What ensued upon this bold declaration of war with the Reformer, we shall see anon. At present, it is enough to say, that the challenge was forced upon the kindly nature of Pope Leo, who, goaded by the taunts and insults of the monks of Christendom, yielded up, in a fatal moment, his own large-minded and benevolent convictions to the dictates of men who have ever distinguished themselves, as much by their ignorance of the laws that govern the great politics of humanity, as by their forced and unnatural estimate of religious individualism - that is to say, religious self-apotheosis.

But during these moments-so eventful to all ChrisCount Arensberg was engaged on other

tendom objects.

We have said before that, in his letter to Martin Luther, he intimated how anxiously he was being employed upon matters that were somewhat personal.

So he was; for no sooner had he left the banquet given in honour of him by the Saxon ambassador, Von Teutleben, than he directed his steps towards the castle of St. Angelo.

He had taken scarcely two steps beyond the portcullis of the palace of the ambassador, when his ear was met by the whisper of friends.

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Rosbach," murmured a young voice, in a low tone. "Deutsche," was Count Arensberg's answer, in a tone equally low.

These had been the watchwords preconcerted between the Count and his attendants. Rupert was among them; and, first casting his eyes around him to see that they were unobserved, he left the dark shadow underneath which he had sheltered his little party, and advanced to his brother.

"Mellendorf has gone on with Rudiger," he whispered. "He bade us not move until we heard a low whistle."

"Have you heard it, Rupert ?" asked the Count.

Yes, twice-thrice; and he must be impatient. "Then let us move onward, and that quickly.” Calmly, in well-governed order, without even a whisper, did the little band of retainers advance to

VOL. II.

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