A rustle stirred through the priestly throng. The canons looked
askance at the prince and at one another. Then one of them spoke.

"Habemus episcopum," he said gravely, and several instantly made
chorus: "We have a bishop."

The eyes of the young sovereign kindled. "You are wrong," he told
them. "You had a bishop, but he is here no longer. He has
deserted his see, after publishing this shameful thing" And he
held aloft the crumpled interdict. "As I am a God-fearing,
Christian knight, I will not live under this ban. Since the
bishop who excommunicated me is gone, you will at once elect
another in his place who shall absolve me."

They stood before him, silent and impassive, in their priestly
dignity, and in their assurance that the law was on their side.

"Well?" the boy growled at them.

"Habemus episcopum," droned a voice again.

"Amen," boomed in chorus through the cloisters.

"I tell you that your bishop is gone," he insisted, his voice
quivering now with anger, "and I tell you that he shall not
return, that he shall never set foot again within my city of
Coimbra. Proceed you therefore at once to the election of his
successor."