THE BARGAIN IS STRUCK
Every epoch seems to have possessed
a two-word phrase that contained, as it were, the
condensed wisdom of the age, and was universally believed
by the people. For instance, the aphorism “Know
thyself” rose to popularity when cultured minds
turned towards science. In the period to which
this recital belongs the adage “Blood tells”
enjoyed universal acceptance. It was, in fact,
that erroneous statement “The King can do no
wrong” done up into tabloid form. From it,
too, sprang that double-worded maxim of the days of
chivalry, “Noblesse oblige.”
In our own time, the two-worded phrase
is “Money talks,” and if diligent inquirers
probe deeply into the matter, they will find that the
aspirations of the people always correspond with reasonable
accuracy to the meaning of the phrase then in use.
Nothing could be more excellent, for instance, than
the proverb “Money talks” as representing
two commercial countries like America and England.
In that short sentence is packed the essence of many
other wise and drastic sayings, as, for instance,
“The devil take the hindmost;” for, of
course, if money talks, then the man without it must
remain silent, and his place is at the tail of the
procession, where the devil prowls about like a Cossack
at the rear of Napoleon’s army.
Confronting each other in that ancient
house on the Fahrgasse, we witness, then, the personification
of the two phrases, ancient and modern: blood
represented by the standing lad, and money by the seated
merchant.
“I am Prince Roland, only son
of the Emperor,” the young man had said, and
he saw at once by the expression on the face of his
host that, could he be convinced of the truth of the
assertion, the thousand thalers that the Prince
had demanded would be his on the instant.
For a full minute Roland thought he
had succeeded, but as the surprise died out of the
merchant’s countenance, there replaced it that
mask of caution which had had so much to do with the
building of his fortune. During their conference
Herr Goebel cudgeled his brain, trying to remember
where he had seen this young man before, but memory
had roamed among clerks, salesmen, and industrious
people of that sort where, somehow, this young fellow
did not fit in. When Roland suddenly sprung on
him the incredible statement that he was a member of
the Imperial family, the merchant’s recollection
then turned towards pageants he had seen, in one of
which this young stranger might very well have borne
a part. Blood was beginning to tell.
But now experience came to the merchant’s
aid. Only in romances did princes of the blood
royal wander about like troubadours. Even a member
of the lesser nobility did not call unheralded at the
house of a merchant. The aristocracy always wanted
money, it is true, “but what they thought they
might require, they went and took,” as witness
the piratical Barons of the Rhine, whose exactions
brought misery on the great city of Frankfort.
Then all at once came the clinching
remembrance that when the Electors were appealed to
on behalf of the young Prince, the three Archbishops
had promptly seized his Royal Highness, and, in spite
of the pleadings of the Empress (the Emperor was drunk
and indifferent) placed him in the custody of the
Archbishop nearest to Frankfort, the warrior prelate
of Mayence, who imprisoned him in the strong fortress
of Ehrenfels, from which, well guarded and isolated
as it was upon a crag over-hanging the Rhine, no man
could escape.
“Will you kindly be seated again,
sir,” requested the merchant, and if he had
spoken a short time before, he would have put the phrase
“your Royal Highness” in the place of
the word “sir.”
Roland, after a moment’s hesitation,
sat down. He saw that his coup had failed, because
he was unable to back it up by proofs. His dramatic
action had been like a brilliant cavalry charge, for
a moment successful, but coming to naught because
there was no solid infantry to turn the temporary
confusion of the enemy into complete rout. Realizing
that the battle must be fought over again, the Prince
sat back with a sigh of disappointment, a shade of
discontent on his handsome face.
“I find myself in rather a quandary,”
proceeded the merchant. “If indeed you
are the Emperor’s son, it is not for such as
I to cross-examine you.”
“Ask me any questions you like,
sir. I shall answer them promptly enough.”
“If I beg you to supply proof
of the statement you make, you would be likely to
reply that as you dared not enter your father’s
Palace, you are unable to furnish me with corroboration.”
“Sir, you put the case in better
language than I could employ. In more halting
terms that is what I should have said.”
“When were you last in the Palace?”
“About the same time, sir, that you took up
your residence in prison.”
“Ah, yes; that naturally would
be your answer. Now, my young friend, you have
shown me that you know nothing of mercantile practice;
therefore it may perhaps interest you if I explain
some of our methods.”
“Herr Goebel, you may save your
breath. Such a recital must not only fail to
interest me, but will bore me extremely. I care
nothing for your mercantile procedure, and, to be
quite plain with you, I despise your trade, and find
some difficulty in repressing my contempt for those
who practice it.”
“If an emissary of mine,”
returned Goebel, unperturbed, “approached a
client or customer for the purpose of obtaining a favor,
and used as little tact as you do, I should dismiss
him.”
“I’m not asking any favors from you.”
“You wish me to hand over to
you a thousand thalers, otherwise why came you
here?”
“I desire to bestow upon you
the greatest of boons, namely to open up the Rhine,
and bring back prosperity to Frankfort, which you brainless,
cowardly merchants have allowed to slip through your
fingers, blaming now the Barons, now the Emperor,
now the Electors; censuring everybody, in fact, except
the real culprits ... yourselves. You speak of
the money as a favor, but it is merely an advance
for a few weeks, and will be returned to you; yet
because I desire to confer this inestimable gift upon
you and your city, you expect me to cringe to you,
and flatter you, as if I were a member of your own
sycophantic league. I refuse to do anything of
the kind, and yet, by God, I’ll have the money!”
The merchant, for the first time during
their conference, laughed heartily. The young
man’s face was aflame with anger, yet the truculent
words he used did more to convince Herr Goebel that
he belonged to the aristocracy than if he had spoken
with the most exemplary humility. Goebel felt
convinced he was not the Prince, but some young noble,
who, intimate with the Royal Family, and knowing the
Emperor’s son to be out of the way, thought
it safe to assume his name, the better to carry forward
his purpose, whatever that purpose might actually be.
That it was to open the Rhine he did not for a moment
credit, and that he would ever see his cash again,
if once he parted with it, he could not believe.
“At the risk of tiring you,
I shall nevertheless proceed with what I was about
to say. We merchants, for our own protection,
contribute to a fund which might be entitled one for
secret service. This fund enables us to procure
private information that may be of value in our business.
Among other things we need to know are accurate details
pertaining to the intentions and doings of our rulers,
for whatever our own short-comings may be, the actions
of those above us affect business one way or the other.
May I read you a short report that came in while I
was serving my term of imprisonment?”
“Oh, read what you like,”
said Roland indifferently, throwing back his head,
and partially closing his eyes, with an air of ennui.
The merchant drew towards him a file
of papers, and going through them carefully, selected
a document, and drew it forth, then, clearing his
throat, he read aloud
“‘At an hour after midnight,
on St. Stanislas’ Day, three nobles, one representing
the Archbishop of Mayence, the second the Archbishop
of Treves, and the third the Archbishop of Cologne,
armed with authority from these three Electors and
Princes of the Church, entered the Saalhof from the
side facing the river, and arrested in his bed the
young Prince Roland. They assured the Empress,
who protested, that the Prince would be well cared
for, and that, as an insurrection was feared in Frankfort,
it was considered safer that the person whom they intended
to elevate to the throne on the event of the Emperor’s
death, should be out of harm’s way, being placed
under the direct care of the Archbishop of Mayence.
They informed the Empress that the Archbishops would
not remove the Prince from the Palace in opposition
to the wishes of either the Emperor or herself, but
if this permission was not given, a meeting of the
Electors would at once be called, and some one else
selected to succeed the present ruler.
“’This consideration exerted
a great influence upon the Empress, who counseled
her son to acquiesce. The young man was led to
a boat then in waiting by the river steps of the Palace,
and so conveyed down the Main to the Rhine, which
was reached just after daybreak. Without landing,
and keeping as much as possible to the middle of the
river, the party proceeded down the Rhine, past Bingen,
to the foot of the crag on which stands the castle
of Ehrenfels. The Prince was taken up to the Castle,
where he now remains.
“’The Archbishops from
their revenues allot to him seven hundred thalers
a month, in addition to his maintenance. It is
impossible for him to escape from this stronghold
unaided, and as the Emperor takes no interest in the
matter, and the Empress has given her consent, he is
like to be an inmate of Ehrenfels during the pleasure
of the Archbishops, who doubtless will not elect him
to the throne in succession unless he proves compliant
to their wishes. The Prince being a young man
of no particular force of character’” (the
merchant paused in his reading, and looked across
at his vis-a-vis with a smile, but the latter
appeared to be asleep), “’he will probably
succumb to the Archbishops, therefore merchants are
advised to base no hopes upon an improvement in affairs,
even though the son should succeed the father.
Despite the precautions taken, the arrest and imprisonment
of the Prince, and even the place of his detention,
became rather generally known in Frankfort, but the
news is in the form of rumor only, and excites little
interest throughout the city.’
“There, Sir Roland, what do you say to that?”
“Oh, nothing much,” replied
Roland. “The account might have stated that
in the boat were five rowers, who worked lustily until
we reached the Rhine, when, the wind being favorable,
a sail was hoisted, and with the current assisting
the wind, we made excellent time to Ehrenfels.
I observe, further, that your secret service keeps
you very well informed, and therefore withdraw a tithe
of the harsh things I said regarding the stupidity
of the merchants.”
“Many thanks for the concession,”
said Goebel, replacing the document with its fellows.
“Now, as a plain and practical man, what strikes
me is this: you need only return to Ehrenfels
for two months, and as there is little use for money
in that fortress, your maintenance being guaranteed,
and seven hundred thalers allowed, you can come
away with four hundred thalers more than the
sum you demand from me, and thus put your project
into force without being under obligations to any despised
merchant.”
“True, Herr Goebel, but can
you predict what will happen in Frankfort before two
months are past? You learn from that document
that the shrewd Archbishops anticipate an insurrection,
and doubtless they command the force at hand ready
to crush it, but during this conflict, which you seem
to regard so lightly, does it ever occur to you that
the merchants’ palaces along the Fahrgasse may
be sacked and burnt?”
“That, of course, is possible,” commented
the merchant.
“Nay, it is absolutely certain.
Civil war means ruin, to innocent and guilty alike.”
“You are in the right.
Now, will you tell me how you escaped from Ehrenfels?”
“Yes; if you agree to my terms without further
haggling.”
“I shall agree to your terms if I believe your
story.”
“It seems impossible, sir, to
pin you down to any definite bargain. Is this
the way you conduct your business?”
“Yes; unless I am well assured
of the good faith of my customer. I offered you
ordinary business terms when I asked for security,
or for the signature of three responsible merchants
to your bond. It is because I am a merchant,
and not a speculator, that I haggle, as you term it.”
“Very well, then, I will tell
you how I got away, but I begin my recital rather
hopelessly, for you always leave yourself a loophole
of escape. If you believe my story, you say!
Yes: could I weave a romance about tearing my
sheets into ropes; of lowering myself in the dark from
the battlements to the ground; of an alarm given;
of torches flashing; of diving into the Rhine, and
swimming under the water until I nearly strangled;
of floating down over the rapids, with arrows whizzing
round me in the night; of climbing dripping to the
farther shore, far from sight of Ehrenfels, then,
doubtless, you would believe. But my escape was
prosaically commonplace, depending on the cupidity
of one man. The material for it was placed in
my hands by the Archbishops themselves. Your
account states that the Castle is well guarded.
So it is, but when the Archbishop needs an augmentation
of his force, he withdraws his men from Ehrenfels
to Mayence, as my prison is the nearest of his possessions
to his capital city, and thus at times it happens that
the Castle is bereft of all save the custodian and
his family. His eldest son happens to be of my
own age, and not unlike me in appearance. None
of the guards saw me, except the custodian, and you
must remember he was a very complacent jailer, for
the reason that he knew well every rising sun might
bring with it tidings that I was his Emperor, so he
cultivated my acquaintance, to learn in his own thrifty,
peasant way what manner of ruler I might become, and
I, having no one else to talk to, made much of his
company.
“Frequently he impressed upon
me that his task of jailer was most irksome to him,
but poverty compelling, what could he do? He swore
he would accomplish whatever was in his power to mitigate
my captivity, and this indeed did; so at last when
the Castle was empty I made him a proposal. Now
remember, Sir Merchant, that what I tell you is in
confidence, and should you break faith with me, I will
have you hanged if I become Emperor, or slit your
throat with my own sword if I don’t.”
“Go on. I shall tell no one.”
“I said to my jailer: ’There
are not half a dozen people in this world who know
me by sight, and among that half-dozen no Elector is
included. Outside the Palace at Frankfort I am
acquainted with a sword maker or two, and about a
score of good fellows who are friends of theirs, but
to them I am merely a fencing-master. Now, seven
hundred thalers a month pass through your honest
hands to mine, and will continue to do so. Your
son seems to be even more silent than yourself, and
he is a young fellow whom I suspect knows the difference
between a thaler and a button on his own coat.
If you do what I wish, there will be some slight risk,
but think of the reward immediate and in future!
At once you come into an income of seven hundred thalers
a month. If I am elected Emperor, I shall ennoble
you, and present you with the best post in the land.
If you don’t do what I wish, I shall cause your
head cut off as the first act of my first day of power.’”
“You did not threaten to slit
his throat with your own sword, failing your elevation?”
asked the merchant, with a smile.
“No. He was quite safe
from my vengeance unless I came to the throne.”
“In that case I should say the
custodian need not fear the future. But please
go on with your account.”
“I proposed that his son and
I should exchange costumes; in short, the young man
was to take my place, occupying the suite of rooms
assigned to me in the Castle. I told his father
there was not the slightest fear of discovery, for
if the Archbishop of Mayence sent some one to see that
the Prince was safe, or even came himself, all the
young man need do was to follow my example and keep
silent, for I had said nothing from the time I was
roused in my room in the Saalhof until I was lodged
in Ehrenfels. I promised, if set at liberty,
to keep within touch of Frankfort, where, at the first
rumor of any crisis, I could return instantly to Ehrenfels.
“The custodian is a slow-minded
man, although not so laggard in coming to an agreement
as yourself. He took a week to turn the matter
over in his mind, and then made the plunge. He
is now jailer to his own son, and that young peasant
lives in a style he never dreamed of before. The
Archbishops are satisfied, because they believe I cannot
escape from the stronghold like yourself,
holding but a poor opinion of my abilities; and their
devout Lordships know that outside the fortress no
person, not even my mother, wishes me forth.
I took in my wallet five hundred thalers, and
fared like the peasant I seemed to be, down the Rhine,
now on one side, now on the other, until I came to
the ancient town of Castra Bonnensia of the Romans,
which name the inhabitants now shorten to Bonn.
There I found the Archbishop in residence, and not
at Cologne, as I had supposed. The town being
thronged with soldiers and inquisitive people of Cologne’s
court, I returned up the Rhine again, remembering I
had gone rather far afield, and although you may not
believe it, I called upon my old friend the custodian
of Ehrenfels, and enjoyed an excellent meal with him,
consuming some of the seductive wine that is grown
on the same side of the river about a league above
Ehrenfels.”
“I dare say,” said the
merchant, “that I can give the reason for this
apparently reckless visit of yours to Ehrenfels.
You were in want of money, the five hundred thalers
being spent.”
“Sir, you are exactly in the
right, and I got it, too, without nearly so much talk
as I have been compelled to waste on the present occasion.”
“What was your object in going
down the river instead of turning to Frankfort?”
“I had become interested in
my prison, and had studied methods by which it could
be successfully attacked. I knew that my father
allowed the Barons of the Rhine to override him, and
I wondered if his wisdom was greater than I thought.
Probably, said I to myself, he knew their castles
to be impregnable, but, with the curiosity of youth,
I desired to form an opinion of my own. I therefore
lodged as a wayfarer at every castle to I could gain
admittance, making friends with some underling, and
getting a bed on occasion in the stables, although
often I lodged within the castle itself. Thus
I came to the belief, which I bring to you, that assisted
by twenty fearless men I can capture any castle on
the Rhine with the exception of three. And now,
Herr Goebel, I have said all I intend to say.
Do you discredit my story?”
The merchant gazed across at him quizzically
for some time without making any reply, then he said:
“Do you think I believe you?”
“Frankly, I do not.”
“If I am unable to give you
the gold, I can at least furnish some good advice.
Set up as a poet, good Master Roland, and weave for
our delectation stories of the Rhine. I think
your imagination, if cultivated, would give you a
very high place among the romancers of our time.”
With a patience that Herr Goebel had not expected,
Roland replied:
“It grieves me to return empty-handed
to my twenty friends, who last night bade me a very
confident adieu.”
“Yes, they will be disappointed,
and I shrewdly suspect that my thousand thalers
would not go towards the prosecuting of the expedition
you have outlined, but rather in feasting and in wine.”
“Again, sir, you are right.
It is unfortunate that I am so often compelled to
corroborate your statements, when all the acumen with
which you credit my mind is turned towards the task
of proving you a purse-proud fool, puffed up in your
own conceit, and as short-sighted as an owl in the
summer sunlight. However, let us stick to our
text. If what I said had been true, although
of course you know it isn’t, you have nevertheless
enough common sense to be aware that I would certainly
show a pardonable reluctance about visiting my father’s
Palace. It is thronged with spies of the Archbishop,
and although, as I have said, I am not very well known,
there is a chance that one or another might recognize
me, and then, almost instantly, a man on a swift horse
would be on his way to Mayence. If I knew that
I had been discovered, I should make at once for Ehrenfels,
arriving there before an investigation was held.
But my twenty comrades would wait for me in vain.
Nevertheless, I shall venture into the Saalhof this
very afternoon, and bring to you a letter written
by my mother certifying that I am her son. Would
that convince you?”
“Yes; were I sure the signature was genuine.”
“Ah, there you go again! Always a loophole!”
The young man spoke in accents of
such genuine despair that his host was touched despite
his incredulity.
“Look you here,” he said,
bending across the table. “There is, of
course, one chance in ten thousand that you are what
you say. I have never seen the signature of the
Empress, and such a missive could easily be forged
by a scholar, which I take you to be. If, then,
you wish to convince me, I’ll put before you
a test which will be greatly to your advantage, and
which I will accept without the loophole.”
“In Heaven’s name, let’s hear what
it is.”
“There is something that you
cannot forge: the Great Seal of the Realm, attached
to all documents signed by the Emperor.”
“I have had no dealings with
my father for years,” cried the young man.
“I have not even seen him these many months past.
I can obtain the signature of my mother to anything
I like to write, but not that of my father.”
“Patience, patience,”
said the merchant, holding up his hand. “’Tis
well known that the Empress can bend the Emperor to
her will when she chooses to exert it. You see,
in spite of all, I am quite taking it for granted
that you are the Prince, otherwise ’twere useless
to waste time in this talk. You display all the
confidence of youth in speaking of the exploits you
propose, and, indeed, it is cheering for a middle-aged
person like myself to meet one so confident of anything
in these pessimistic days. But have you considered
what will happen if something goes wrong during one
of your raids?”
“Nothing can go wrong. I feel no fear on
that score.”
“I thought as much. Very
well, I will tell you what could go wrong. Some
Baron may entrap you and your score, and forthwith
hang you all from his battlements. Now, it is
but common sense to prevent such a termination, if
it be possible. Therefore seek out the Empress.
Tell her that you and your twenty companions are about
to embark on an enterprise greatly beneficial to the
land. Say that you go incognito, and that, even
should you fail, ’twill bring no discredit to
your Royal House. But point out the danger of
which I forewarn you. Ask her to get the signature
of the Emperor attached to a safe-conduct, together
with the device of the Great Seal; then if the Baron
who captures you cannot read, he will still know the
potency of the picture, and as there is no loophole
to my acceptance of this proof, I will, for your convenience,
and for my own protection, write the safe-conduct
on as sound a bit of parchment as ever was signed
in a palace.”
Saying this, Herr Goebel rose, and
went to his desk in a corner of the room, where he
indited the memorial he had outlined, and, after sprinkling
it with sand, presented it to Roland, who read:
“These presents warn him to
whom they are presented that Roland the bearer is
my son, and that what he has done has been done with
my sanction, therefore he and his twenty comrades
are to be held scathless, pending an appeal to me
in my capital city of Frankfort.
“Whomsoever disobeys this instrument
forfeits his own life, and that of his family and
followers, while his possessions will be confiscated
by the State.”
Roland frowned.
“Doesn’t it please you?” asked Goebel,
his suspicions returning.
“Well, it seems to me rather
a plebeian action, to attack a man’s castle,
and then, if captured, crawl behind a drastic threat
like this.”
The merchant shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s a sentimental
objection, but of course you need not use the document
unless you wish, though I think if you see twenty-one
looped ropes dangling in the air your hesitation will
vanish. Oh, not on your own account,” cried
Goebel, as a sign of dissent from his visitor, “but
because of those twenty fine young fellows who doubtless
wait to drink wine with you.”
“That is true,” said Roland,
with a sigh, folding up the stiff parchment, opening
his cloak, and thrusting it under his belt, standing
up as he did this.
“Bring me that parchment, bearing
the Emperor’s signature and the Great Seal,
and you will find the golden coins awaiting you.”
“Very well. At what time
this evening would it please you to admit me?”
“Friends of mine are coming
to-night, but they are not likely to stop long; merely
a few handshakes, and a few cups of wine. I shall
be ready for you when the Cathedral clock strikes
ten.”
With this the long conference ended,
and the aged servitor in the hall showed Roland into
the Fahrgasse.
As the young man proceeded down the
Weckmarkt into the Saalgasse, he muttered to himself:
“The penurious old scoundrel!
God keep me in future from dealing with such!
To the very last he suspects me of being a forger,
and has written this with his own hand, doubtless
filling it with secret marks. Still, perhaps
it is as well to possess such a safeguard. This
is my loophole out of the coming enterprise, I fear
we are all cowards, noble and merchant alike.”
He walked slowly past the city front
of the Palace, cogitating some means of entering without
revealing his identity, but soon found that even this
casual scrutiny made him an object of suspicion.
He could not risk being accosted, for, if taken to
the guard-room and questioned searched,
perhaps, and the sword found on him a complication
would arise adding materially to the difficulties already
in his way. Quickening his pace, he passed through
the Fahrthor, and so to the river-bank, where he saw
that the side of the Saalhof fronting the Main was
guarded merely by one or two sentries, for the mob
could not gather on the surface of the waters, as
it gathered on the cobble-stones of the Saalgasse
and the Fahrthor.
Retracing his steps, the Prince walked
rapidly until he came to the bridge, advancing to
the iron Cross which commemorates the fowl sacrifice
to the devil, as the first living creature venturing
upon that ancient structure. Here he leaned against
the parapet, gazed at the river façade of the Palace,
and studied his problem. There were three sets
of steps from the terrace to the water, a broad flight
in the center for use upon state occasions, and a
narrow flight at either end; the western staircase
being that in ordinary use, and the eastern steps
trodden by the servants carrying buckets of water from
the river to the kitchen.
“The nearer steps,” he
said to himself, “offer the most feasible opportunity.
I’ll try them.”
He counted his money, for here was
probably a case for bribery. He found twenty-four
gold pieces, and some loose silver. Returning
the coins to his pouch, he walked to the land, and
proceeded up the river until he reached a wharf where
small skiffs were to let. One of these he engaged,
and refusing the services of a waterman, stepped in,
and drifted down the stream. He detached sword
and scabbard from his belt, removed the cloak and
wrapped the weapon in it, placing the folded garment
out of sight under the covering at the prow.
With his paddle he kept the boat close to the right
bank, discovering an excellent place of concealment
under the arch supporting the steps, through which
the water flowed. He waited by the steps for
a few moments until a scullion in long gabardine came
down and dipped his bucket in the swift current.
“Here, my fine fellow,”
accosted Roland, “do you wish to earn a pair
of gold pieces?” and he showed the yellow coins
in the palm of his hand.
The menial’s eyes glistened,
and he cast a rapid glance over his shoulder.
“Yes,” he replied breathlessly.
“Then leave your bucket where it is, and step
into this wherry.”
The underling, again with a cautious look around,
did as he was ordered.
“Now throw off that outer garment, and give
it to me.”
Roland put it on over his own clothes,
and flung his bonnet beside the cloak and sword, for
the servant was bareheaded.
“Get under that archway, and
keep out of sight until you hear me whistle.”
Taking the bucket, Roland mounted
the steps, and strode out of the brilliant sunlight
into the comparative gloom of the corridor that led
to the kitchen. He had been two hours with the
merchant, and it was now the time of midday eating.
Every one was hurrying to and fro, with no time to
heed anything that did not pertain to the business
in hand, so placing the bucket in a darkened embrasure,
the intruder flung off the gabardine beside it, and
searching, found a back stair which he ascended.
Once in the upper regions, he knew
his way about, and proceeded directly to his mother’s
room, being sure at this hour to find her within.
On his unannounced entrance the Empress gave utterance
to an exclamation that indicated dismay rather than
pleasure, but she hurried forward to meet and embrace
him.
“Oh, Roland!” she cried,
“what do you here? How came you to the Palace?”
“By way of the river. My
boat is under the arch of the servants’ stairway,
and I have not a moment to lose.”
“How did you escape from Ehrenfels,
and why have you come here? Surely you know the
Palace will be the first place searched for you?”
“There will be no search, mother.
Take my word for it that no one is aware of my absence
from Ehrenfels but the custodian, and for the best
of reasons he dare not say a word. Do not be alarmed,
I beg of you. I am free by his permission, and
shall return to the Castle before he needs me.
Indeed, mother, so far from jeopardizing my own safety,
I am here to preserve it.”
He drew from under his belt Herr Goebel’s
parchment, and handed it to her.
“In case it should occur to
the good Archbishop, or any other noble, to hang me,
I thought it best to get such a declaration signed
by the Emperor, and decorated with the Great Seal
of the Empire. Then, if any attempt is made on
my life, as well as on my liberty, I may produce this
Imperial decree, and bring my case to Frankfort.”
“Surely, surely,” exclaimed
the agitated lady, her hands trembling as she held
the document and tried to read it; “I can obtain
your father’s signature, but the Great Seal
must be attached by the Chamberlain.”
“Very good, mother. The
Chamberlain will do as his Majesty orders. The
seal is even more important than the signature, if
it comes to that, and I am sure the Chamberlain will
make no objection when the instrument is for the protection
of your son’s life. It is not necessary
to say that I am here, or have anything to do with
the matter. But lose not a moment, and give orders
that no one shall enter this room.”
The empress hastened away with the
parchment, while the young man walked impatiently
up and down the room. It seemed hours before she
returned, but at last she came back with the document
duly executed. Roland thrust it under his belt
again, and reassuring his mother, who was now weeping
on his shoulder, he tried to tear himself away.
The Empress detained him until, with fumbling hands,
she unlocked a drawer in a cabinet, and took from
it a bag that gave forth a chink of metal as she pressed
it on her son.
“I must not take it,”
he said. “I am quite well provided.
The generous Archbishops allow me seven hundred thalers
a month, which is paid with exemplary regularity.”
“There are only five hundred
thalers here,” replied the Empress.
“I wish there were more, but you must accept
it, for I should feel easier in my mind to know that
you possess even that much. Do they misuse you
at Ehrenfels, my son?”
“Oh, no, no, no! I live
like a burgomaster. You need feel no fear on my
account, mother. Ehrenfels is a delightful spot,
with old Bingen just across the water. I like
it much better than I did Frankfort, with its howling
mobs, and shall be very glad to get quit again of the
city.”
Then, with a hurried farewell, he
left the weeping woman, and descending the back stair,
secured the abandoned gabardine, put it on, and so
came to the water’s edge, entering into possession
of his boat again. Returning the craft to its
owner, he resumed sword and cloak once more, and found
his way to a tavern, where he ordered a satisfactory
meal.
In the evening he arrived at the Rheingold,
and meeting the landlord in the large, empty, public
cellar, asked that worthy if his friends had assembled
yet, and was told they were all within the Kaiser cellar.
“Good!” he cried.
“I said I would be gone a week, but here I am
within a day. If that’s not justifying
a man’s word, I should like to know what is.
And now, landlord, set forth the best meal you can
provide, with a double quantity of wine.”
“For yourself, sir?”
“For all, landlord. What
else? The lads have had no supper, I’ll
warrant.”
“A little black bread has gone the rounds.”
“All the more reason that we
should have a huge pasty, steaming hot, or two or
three of them if necessary. And your best wine,
landlord. That from the Rheingau.”
But the landlord demurred.
“A meal for yourself, sir, as
leader, I could venture upon, but feeding a score
of hungry men is a different matter. Remember,
sir, I have not seen the color of their silver for
many a long day, and, since these evil times have
set in, I am a poor man.”
“Sordid silver? Out upon
silver! unless it is some silvery fish from the river,
fresh and firm; and that’s a good idea.
We will begin with fish while you prepare the meat.
’Tis gold I deal with to-night, and most of
it is for your pouch. Run your hand in here and
enjoy the thrill,” and Roland held open the
mouth of the bag which contained his treasure.
“Ah!” cried the inn-keeper,
his face aglow. “No such meal is spread
to-night in Frankfort as will be set before you.”
There was a great shout as Roland
entered the Kaiser cellar, and a hurrah of welcome.
“Ha, renegade!” cried
one. “Have you shirked your task so soon?”
“Coward, coward, poltroon!”
was the cry. “I see by his face he has
failed. Never mind them, Roland. Your chair
at the head of the table always awaits you. There
is a piece of black bread left, and though the wine
is thin, it quenches thirst.”
Roland flung off his cloak, hung it
and the sword on a peg, and took his seat at the head
of the table. Pushing away the flagons that stood
near him, he drew the leathern bag from his belt,
and poured the shining yellow coins on the table,
at the sight of which there arose such a yell that
the stout beams above them seemed to quake.
“Apologize!” demanded
Roland, when the clamor quieted down. “The
man who refuses to apologize, and that abjectly, must
take down his sword from the peg and settle with me!”
A shout of apology was the response.
“We grovel at your feet, High
Mightiness!” cried the man who had called him
poltroon.
“I have taken the liberty of
ordering a fish and meat supper, with a double quantity
of Rudesheimer wine. Again I offer to fight any
man who resents this encroachment on my part.”
“I could spit you with a hand
tied behind my back,” cried one, “but I
am of a forgiving nature, and will wait instead for
the spitted fowl.”
“Most of this money,”
continued Roland quietly, “goes, I suspect, to
the landlord, as a slight recognition of past kindness,
but I am promised a further supply this evening, which
will be divided equally among ourselves. I ask
you, therefore, to be sparing of the wine.”
Here he was compelled to pause for some moments, and
listen to groans, hoots, howls, and the rapping of
empty flagons on the stout table.
The commotion was interrupted by the
entrance of the landlord, who brought with him the
promised Rhine wine; for, hearing the noise, he supposed
it represented impatience of the company at the delay,
a mistake which no one thought it worth while to rectify.
He promised that the fish would follow in a very few
minutes, and went out to see that his word was kept.
“Why should we be sparing of
the wine?” asked a capable drinker, who had
drained his flagon before asking the question.
“With all that money on the table it seems to
me a scandalous proviso.”
“’Tis not a command at
all,” replied Roland, “but merely a suggestion.
I spoke in the interests of fair-play. An appointment
was made by me for ten o’clock this evening,
and I wish to keep it and remain uninfluenced by wine.”
“What’s her name, Roland?” inquired
the wine-bibber.
“I was about to divulge that
secret when you interrupted me. The name is Herr
Goebel.”
“What! the cloth merchant on the Fahrgasse?”
“Is it cloth he deals in?
I didn’t know the particulars of his occupation
beyond the facts that he is a merchant, and lives in
the Fahrgasse. This morning I enjoyed the privilege
of presenting to Herr Goebel a mutually beneficial
plan which would give us all something to do.”
“Oh, is Goebel to be our employer?
I’m a sword forger, and work for no puny cloth
merchant,” said Kurzbold.
“This appointment,” continued
Roland, unheeding, “is set for ten o’clock,
and I expect to return here before half-past, therefore ”
“Therefore we’re not to drink all the
wine.”
“Exactly.”
Their leader sat down as the landlord,
followed by an assistant, entered, carrying the paraphernalia
for the substantial repast, and proceeded to set the
table.
When the hilarious meal was finished,
the company sat for another half-hour over its wine,
then Roland rose, buckled on his sword, and flung
his cloak over his shoulders.
“Roland, I hope you have not
sold your soul for this gold?”
“No; but I have pledged your
bodies, and my own as well. Greusel, will you
act as secretary and treasurer? Scrutinize the
landlord’s bill with a generous eye, and pay
him the amount we owe. If anything is left, we
will divide it equally,” and with that he waved
his hand to them, departing amidst a round of cheers,
for the active youths were tired of idleness.
Punctuality is the politeness of kings,
and as the bells of Frankfort were ringing ten o’clock,
Roland knocked at the door of the merchant’s
house in the Fahrgasse. It was promptly opened
by the ancient porter, who, after securing it again,
conducted the young man up the solid stairway to the
office-room on the first floor.
Ushered in, the Prince found the merchant
seated in his usual chair, as if he had never moved
from the spot where Roland had left him at noon that
day. Half a dozen candles shed their soft radiance
over the table, and on one corner of it, close by
Herr Goebel’s right elbow, the visitor saw a
well-filled doeskin bag which he fancied might contain
the thousand thalers.
“Good even to you, Herr Goebel,”
said the young man, doffing his bonnet. “I
hope I have not trodden too closely on the heels of
my appointment, thus withdrawing you prematurely from
the festivities, which I trust you enjoyed all the
more that you breathed the air of liberty again.”
“The occasion, sir, was solemn
rather than festive, for although I was glad to see
my old friends again, and I believe they were glad
to see me, the condition of the city is such, and
growing rapidly worse, that merchants cannot rejoice
when they are gathered together.”
“Ah, well, Herr Goebel, we will
soon mend all that. How long will it require
to load your boat and choose your crew?”
“Everything can be ready by
the evening of the day after to-morrow.”
“You will select one of your
largest barges. Remember, it must house twenty-one
men besides the crew and the goods.”
“Yes; I shall see that complete
arrangements are made for your comfort.”
“Thank you. But do not
provide too much luxury. It might arouse suspicion
from the Barons who search the boat.”
“But the Barons will see you and your men in
the boat.”
“I think not. At least,
we don’t intend to be seen. I will call
upon you again to-morrow at ten o’clock.
Will you kindly order your captain to be here to meet
me? I wish you to give him instructions in my
presence that he is to do whatever I ask of him.
We will join the boat on the Rhine between Ehrenfels
and Assmannshausen. Instruct him to wait for us
midway between the two places, on the right bank.
And now the money, if you please.”
“The money is here,” said
the merchant, sitting up a little more stiffly in
his chair as he patted the well-stuffed bag. “The
money is here if you have brought the instrument that
authorizes you to take it.”
“I have brought it with me, mein herr.”
“Then show it to me,”
demanded the merchant, adjusting his horn glasses
with the air of one who will not allow himself to be
hoodwinked.
“With the greatest pleasure,”
returned the young man, standing before him.
He unfastened his cloak, and allowed it to fall at
his feet, then whisked out his sword, and presented
the point of it to the merchant’s throat.
Goebel, who had been fumbling with
his glasses, suddenly became aware of his danger,
and shrank back so far as his chair allowed, but the
point of the sword followed him.
“What do you mean by that?” he gasped.
“I mean to show you that in
this game iron is superior to gold. Your card
is on the table, represented by that bag. Mine
is still in my hand, and unplayed, but it takes the
trick, I think. I hope you see the uselessness
of resistance. You cannot even cry out, for at
the first attempt a thrust of this blade cuts the
very roots of utterance. It will be quite easy
for me to escape, because I shall go quietly out with
the bag under my cloak, telling the porter that you
do not wish to be disturbed.”
“It is the Prince of Thieves
you are, then,” said Herr Goebel.
“So it would appear. With
your right hand pass that bag of gold across the table,
and beg of me to accept it.”
The merchant promptly did what he was told to do.
The young man put his sword back in
its place, laughing joyously, but there was no answering
smile on the face of Herr Goebel. As he had said,
the condition of things in Frankfort, especially in
that room, failed to make for merriment. Roland,
without being invited, drew up a chair, and sat down
at the opposite side of the table.
“Please do not attempt to dash
for the door,” he warned, “because I can
quite easily intercept you, as I am nearer to it than
you are, and more active. Call philosophy to
your aid, and take whatever happens calmly. I
assure you, ’tis the best way, and the only way.”
He untied the cord, and poured the
bulk of the gold out upon the table. The merchant
watched him with amazement. For all the robber
knew, the door might be opened at any moment, but
he went on with numbering the coins as nonchalantly
as if seated in the treasury of the Corn Exchange.
When he had counted half the sum the bag contained,
he poured the loose money by handfuls into the wallet
that had held his mother’s contribution, and
pushed towards the merchant the bag, in which remained
five hundred thalers.
“You are to know,” he
said with a smile, abandoning his bent-forward posture,
“that when I visited my mother this afternoon,
she quite unexpectedly gave me five hundred thalers,
so I shall accept from you only half the sum I demanded
this morning.”
“Your mother!” cried the merchant.
“Who is your mother?”
“The Empress, as I told you.
Oh, at last I understand your uneasiness. You
wished to see that document! Why didn’t
you ask for it? I asked for the money plainly
enough. Well, here it is. Examine Seal and
sign-manual.”
The merchant minutely scrutinized
the Great Seal and the signature above it.
“I don’t know what to
think,” stammered Herr Goebel at last, gazing
across the table with bewildered face.
“Think of your good fortune.
A moment ago you imagined a thousand thalers
were lost. Now it is but five hundred thalers
invested, and you are a partner with the Royal House
of the Empire.”