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Herr Durnberg bowed almost to the polished floor, and flinging open both doors, retreated backwards, still bent double as he implored them to enter.
"I vote for the Prince," he said in tones barely audible. "And you, my Lord of Cologne?" "Aye," said Cologne gruffly. "The Count Palatine?" "Yes," thundered the latter. "A choice that meets my full approval, and I speak now for the Empress as well as the Emperor." "Durnberg!" cried Mayence, raising his voice. The doors were instantly opened, and the cringing Romer-meister appeared.
The deferential Herr Durnberg entered from the Wahlzimmer, and softly approached them. "Your Highness," he said, "my Lords, the Electors, request your presence in the Wahlzimmer." "How many are there, Romer-meister?" "There are four, your Highness; the three Archbishops and the Count Palatine."
The most anxious man was a small, fussy individual of great importance in his own estimation, cringing to those above him, denouncing those beneath; Herr Durnberg, Master of the Romer, in other words, the Keeper of the Town Hall. The great masters whom this little master served were imperious and unreasonable.
The moment an election took place Herr Durnberg turned off the flow of water from the fountain, and turned on the flow of wine, thus for an hour and a half there poured from the northward pointing spout of the fountain the rich red wine of Assmannshausen, and from the southern spout the delicate white wine of Hochheim.
"Ah," breathed Roland, relieved that Mayence had not called up his reserve, and assured now that the seventh Elector had not arrived. With a glance of encouragement at his wife, Roland passed into the presence. Herr Durnberg, anxious about the outcome, showed an inclination to close the door and remain inside, but a very definite gesture from Mayence wafted the good man to outer regions.
There came up the broad, winding stair, to the landing on which opened the great doors of the Kaisersaal, two joyous-looking young people, evidently lovers, and with the hilt of his sword the youth knocked against the stout panels of the door. It was Herr Durnberg himself who opened, and he said haughtily "The Romer is closed, and will not be free to strangers until after the Election."
Locking the doors, for the Electors would reach the Wahlzimmer through a private way, to be used by none but themselves, the bustling Durnberg produced two chairs, which he set by the windows in the front, and again running the risk of falling on his nose, bowed his distinguished visitors to seats where they might entertain themselves by watching the enormous crowd that filled the Romerberg from end to end, for every man in Frankfort knew an Election was impending, and it was after the banquet, when the wine began to flow in the fountain, that the new Emperor exhibited himself to his people by stepping from the Kaisersaal out upon the balcony in front of it.
They gave him too little information regarding their intentions, yet if he failed in his strict duty towards them, they would crush him as ruthlessly as if he were a wasp. Unhappy Durnberg! Every morning he expected the Electoral Court to be convened that day, and every evening he was disappointed.
Now, wine will keep for a long time, but a dinner will not, so the distracted Durnberg prepared banquet after banquet for which there were no consumers. At last, thought Herr Durnberg, his vigilance was about to be rewarded.
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