reach me in haste; and kindly command your porter not to parley when I
again demand speech with your Lordship. Good-night. I thank you, my
Lord, for your courtesy," and the energetic youth disappeared before the
slow-thinking Archbishop could call up words with which to reply.
Cologne did not immediately rejoin his guests, but stood a very figure
of perplexity, muttering to himself:
"If our friend Mayence thinks that youngster is to be molded like soft
clay, he is very much mistaken. I hope Roland will not cause him to feel
the iron hand too soon. I wonder why Mayence is delaying the Election?
Can it be that already he distrusts his choice, or is it the question of
a wife?"
Meanwhile the front door of the Archbishop's Palace had clanged shut,
and Roland strode across the square careless or unconscious of spies,
looking neither to the right nor to the left. He made his way speedily
to the Fahrgasse, walking down that thoroughfare until he came to Herr
Goebel's door, where he knocked, and was admitted. Ushered into the room
where he had parted from the merchant, he found Herr Goebel seated at
his table as if he had never left it. The merchant, with a cry of
delight, greeted the young man.
"Well, Herr Goebel, you see I have been a successful trafficker. Your
bales of goods are all in Castle Pfalz, and I trust the barge returned
safely to you with the money."
"It did indeed, your Highness."
"Has the coin been counted?"
"Yes; and it totals an enormous, almost unbelievable, sum, which I have
set down here to the last stiver."
"That is brave news. Have any demands been made on you for its
partition?"
"No, your Highness."
"Now, Herr Goebel, I have determined that all that money, which is in
effect stolen property, shall go to the feeding of Frankfort's poor.
Buying provender shrewdly, how long would this treasure keep hunger away
from the gates of Frankfort?"
"That requires some calculation, your Highness."
"A month?"
"Surely so."
"Two months, perhaps?"
"'Tis likely; but I deal in cloth, not in food, and therefore cannot
speak definitely without computation and the advice of those expert in
the matter."
"Very well, Herr Goebel; get your computations made as soon as possible.
Call together your merchants' guild, and ask its members--By the way,"
said Roland, suddenly checking himself, "give to me in writing the
amount of gold I have sent you."
The unsuspecting merchant did so, and Roland's eyes opened with
astonishment when he glanced at the total. He then placed the paper in
the wallet he carried.
"You were perhaps about to suggest that a committee be appointed,"
ventured the merchant.
"Yes; a small but capable committee, of which you shall be chairman and
treasurer. But first you will ask the merchants to subscribe, out of
their known wealth, a sum equaling the gold I filched from the Barons."
The merchant's face fell, and took on a doleful expression.
"The times, your Highness, have long been very bad, none of us making
money--"
The Prince held up his hand, and the merchant ceased his plaint.
"If I can strip a Baron of his wealth," he said, "I will not waste words
over the fleecing of merchants. This contribution is to be given in the
name of the three Archbishops, whose heavy hands came down on you after
the late insurrection. The Archbishops have now nine thousand troops in
Frankfort. If given leave, they will collect the sum three times over
within a very few hours; so you, as chairman of the committee, may
decide whether the fund shall be a voluntary contribution or an impost
gathered by soldiery: it matters nothing to me. Have it proclaimed
throughout the city that owing to the graciousness of the three
Archbishops starvation is now at an end in Frankfort."
"Highness, with your permission, and all due deference, it seems rather
unjust that we should contribute the cash and lose the credit."
"Yes, Herr Goebel; this is a very unjust world, as doubtless many of the
starving people thought when they recollected that a few hundred of you
possessed vast wealth while they were penniless. Nevertheless, there are
good times ahead for all of us. Let me suggest that this money which I
sent to you may prove sufficient and so the subscriptions of the
merchants can be returned to them; that is, if the relief fund is
honestly administered. So set to work early to-morrow with energy. You
merchants have had a long vacation. I think the Rhine will be open
before many weeks are past, and then you can turn to your money-making,
but our first duty is to feed the hungry. Good-night, Herr Goebel."
He left the merchant as dazed as was the Archbishop. Once again outside
he made directly for the wine cellar of the Rheingold. On reaching the
steps he heard a roar of talk, lightened now and then by the sound of
laughter. He paused a moment before descending. It was evident that the
company was enjoying itself, and Roland soliloquized somewhat sadly:
"I am the disturbing element in that group. They seem to agree famously
when by themselves. Ah, well, no matter. They will soon be rid of me!"
When Roland descended the stair, the proprietor greeted him with joy.
"I have missed you, Herr Roland," he said, "so you may imagine how much
the guild has regretted your absence."
"Yes; I hear them bemoaning their fate."
The inn-keeper laughed.
"How many are here to-night?"
"There is a full house, Sir Roland."
"Really? Are Kurzbold and Gensbein within?"
"Oh, yes; and there is no scarcity of money, thanks to you, I
understand."
"Rather, our thanks are for ever due to you, Herr Host, for sustaining
us so long when we were penniless. We shall never forget that," and so
with a semi-military salute to the gratified cellar-man, Roland pushed
open the door and entered the banqueting room of the iron-workers'
guild. An instant silence fell on the group.
"Good evening to you, gentlemen," said the Prince, taking off his hat,
and with a twist of his shoulders flinging the cloak from them.
Instantly arose a great cheer, and Greusel, who occupied the chair at
the head of the table, strode forward, took Roland's hat and cloak, and
hung them up. After that he attempted to lead their Captain to the seat
of honor.
"No, no, my dear lieutenant," said Roland, placing his hand
affectionately on the other's shoulder, "a better man than I occupies
the chair, and shall never be displaced by me."
The others, now on their feet, with the exception of Kurzbold and
Gensbein, vociferously demanded that Roland take the chair. Smilingly he
shook his head, and holding up his hand for silence, addressed them.
"Take your seats, comrades; and, Greusel, if you force me to give a
command, I order you into that chair without further protest."
Greusel, with evident reluctance, obeyed.
"Truth to tell, brothers, I have but a few moments to stop. I merely
dropped in to enjoy a sip of wine with you, and to offer a proposal
that, within five minutes, will make me the most unpopular man in this
room, therefore you see my wisdom in refusing a chair from which I
should be very promptly ejected."
One of the members poured a tankard full of wine from a flagon, and
handed it to Roland, who, saluting the company, drank.
"You did not divide the money, Greusel?"
"No, Roland. We gave each man five hundred thalers, to keep as best he
might. We then concealed the rest of the gold between the bottom of the
boat and its inner planking. Ebearhard and I construed your orders
somewhat liberally, conceiving it was your desire to get our treasure
and ourselves safely into Frankfort."
"Quite right," corroborated Roland.
"When morning came upon us, we soon discovered that the whole country
was aroused, because of the destruction of Furstenberg and the looting
of Sonneck. No one knew where the next raid would strike, and therefore
the whole country-side was in a turmoil. Now, the only fact known to the
despoiled was that a long black barge had appeared in front of the
Castle while the attack was made from behind. We realized that it would
be impossible for us to go up the river except in darkness, so in case
of a search we concealed the treasure where it was not likely to be come
at, and each day lay quiet at an unfrequented part of the river, rowing
all night. Not until we reached the Main did we venture on a daylight
voyage. It was agreed among us unanimously that the money should be
placed in Herr Goebel's keeping until you returned."
"That was all excellently done," commented Roland. "I have just been to
see Herr Goebel, and was surprised to learn how much we had actually
taken. And now I ask you to make a great sacrifice. This city is
starving. If we give that gold to its relief, the merchants of Frankfort
will contribute an equal amount. I do not know how long such a total
will keep the wolves from the doors of Frankfort; probably for six
months. I shall learn definitely to-morrow." Here Roland outlined his
plan of relief, which was received in silence.
Kurzbold spoke up.
"I should like to know how much the total is?"
"That is a matter with which you have nothing to do," growled Greusel;
then, turning to Roland, who had not yet taken a seat, he said: "So far
as my share is concerned, I agree."
"I agree," added Ebearhard; and so it went down along each side of the
table until eighteen had spoken.
Kurzbold rose with a smile on his face.
"I don't know how it is, ex-Captain, that the moment you come among us
there seems to arise a spirit of disputation."
"Curiously enough, Herr Kurzbold, that same thought arose in my mind as
I listened to your hilarity before I entered. I beg to add, for your
satisfaction, that this is my last visit to the guild, and never again
shall I disturb its harmony."
"There is no lack of harmony," cried Ebearhard, laughing, as he rose.
"The agreement has been practically unanimous--quite unanimous in fact,
among those entitled to share in the great treasure. I believe Herr
Kurzbold has a claim, if it has not been forfeited, to the loot of
Rheinstein."
"Now, even the genial Ebearhard," continued Kurzbold, "although his
words are blameless, speaks with a certain tone of acerbity, while my
friend Greusel has become gruff as a bear."
"You need not labor that point, Herr Kurzbold," said Roland. "I have
resigned."
"I just wished to remark," Kurzbold went on, "that I rose for the
purpose of stating I had some slight share in something; stolen
property; honor among thieves, you know. Are my rights to this share
disputed?"
"No," said the chairman shortly.
"Very well," concluded Kurzbold, "as I am graciously permitted to speak
in the august presence of our ex-Captain, I desire to say that whatever
my share happens to be, I bestow it gladly, nay, exultantly, upon the
poor of Frankfort."
With that Kurzbold sat down, and there was first a roar of laughter,
followed by a clapping of hands. Gensbein rose, and said briefly:
"I do as Kurzbold does."
"Now," said Roland, "I want a number of volunteers to start out into the
country early to-morrow morning, Greusel, you, as chairman, will
designate the routes. Each man is to penetrate as far as he can along
the main roads, asking the farmers to bring everything in the shape of
food they have to sell. Tell them a vast sum has been collected, and
that their cartloads will be bought entire the moment they enter the
city. There will be no waiting for their money. Prompt payment, and
everything eatable purchased immediately. Greusel, I put on you the
hardest task. Penetrate into the forest south of the Main, and tell the
charcoal-burners and woodmen to bring in material for kitchen fires. How
many will volunteer?"
Every man rose. Roland thanked them. "I shall now divulge a secret, and
you will see that when it was told to me I remembered your interests. It
has been my privilege to meet, since I saw you, more than one man who is
a ruler in this Empire."
"Did they tell you who is to be the new Emperor?" cried one.
"That is known only to the Electors. But what I was about to say is
this. There are to be established by the Government ironworks on a scale
hitherto unknown in any land. I believe, and did my best to inculcate
that belief in others, that we are on the verge of an age of iron, and,
knowing your skill, I am privileged to offer each of you the
superintendency of a department, with compensation never before given so
lavishly in Germany. I am also induced to believe that the new Emperor
will bestow a title on each of you who desire such honor, so that there
can be no question of your right to wear a sword. Greusel, you must
receive reports from each of our food scouts, and I shall be glad to
know the outcome, if you take the trouble to call upon me any hour after
nine o'clock at night, at my old room in Sachsenhausen. And now,
good-night, and good-luck to you all."
Roland went over the bridge, and so reached his room on the other side.
He glanced around several times to satisfy himself he was not spied
upon, and laughed at the apprehension of the Archbishop. Entering his
room, he lit a lamp, took off his cloak and flung it on the bed, then
unbuckled his sword-belt and hung it and the weapon on a peg, placing
his cloak above them. He was startled by a loud knock at the door, and
stood for a moment astonished, until it was repeated with the stern
warning:
"Open in the name of the Archbishop!"
The young man strode forward, drew back the bolt, and flung open the
door. An officer, with two soldiers behind him, came across the
threshold, and at the side-motion of the officer's head a soldier closed
and bolted the door. Roland experienced a momentary thrill of
indignation at this rude intrusion, then he remembered he was a
mechanic, and that his line must be the humble and deferential.
"You came to-night from the Imperial Palace. What were you doing there?"
"I was trying to gain admission, sir."
"For what purpose?"
"I wished," said Roland, rapidly outlining his defense in his own mind,
"I wished to see some high officer; some one of your own position, sir,
but was not so fortunate as to succeed. I could not pass the sentries
without a permit, which I did not then possess, but hope to acquire
to-morrow."
"Again I ask, for what purpose?"
"For a purpose which causes me delight in meeting your excellency."
"I am no excellency. Come to the point! For what purpose?"
"To show the officer a sword of such superior quality that a man armed
with it, and given a certain amount of skill, stands impregnable."
"Do you mean to tell me you went to the Royal Palace for the purpose of
selling a second-hand sword?"
"Oh, no, my lord."
"Do not be so free with your titles. Call me Lieutenant."
"Well, Lieutenant, sir; I hope to get orders for a hundred, or perhaps a
thousand of these weapons."
"Where did you go after leaving the Palace?"
"I went to the residence of that great Prince of the Church, the
Archbishop of Cologne."
"Ah! You did not succeed in seeing his Lordship, I suppose?"
"Pardon me, Lieutenant, but I did. His Lordship is keenly interested in
both weapons and armor."
"Did he give you an order for swords?"
"No, Lieutenant; he seems to be a very cautious man. He asked me to
visit him in Cologne, or if I could not do that, to see his general, now
in Frankfort. You understand, Lieutenant, the presence of the three
Archbishops with their armies offers me a great opportunity, by which I
hope to profit."
The officer looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face.
"Where next did you go?"
"I went to the house of a merchant in the Fahrgasse."
"Ah, that tale doesn't hold! Merchants are not allowed to wear swords."
"No, Lieutenant, but a merchant on occasion can supply capital that will
enable a skilled workman to accept a large contract. If I should see the
general of his Lordship to-morrow, and he gave me an order for, say, two
thousand swords, I have not enough money to buy the metal, and I could
not ask for payment until I delivered the weapons."
"Did the merchant agree to capitalize you?"
"He, too, was a cautious man, Lieutenant. He wished first to see the
contract, and know who stood responsible for payment."
"Wise man," commented the officer; "and so, disheartened, I suppose, you
returned here?"
"No, Lieutenant; the day has been warm, and I have traveled a good deal.
I went from the merchant's house to the Rheingold tavern, there to drink
a tankard of wine with my comrades, a score of men who have formed what
they call the ironworkers' guild. I drank a tankard with them, and then
came direct here, where I arrived but a few moments ago."
The officer was more and more puzzled. Despite this young man's
deferential manner, his language was scarcely that of a mechanic, yet
this certainly was his own room, and he had told the absolute truth
about his wanderings, as one who has nothing to fear.
The Lieutenant stood for a space of time with eyes to the floor, as
silent as the soldiers behind him. Suddenly he looked up.
"Show me the sword. I'll tell you where it's made!"
If he expected hesitation he was mistaken. Roland gave a joyful cry,
swept aside the cloak, whisked forth the sword, flung it up, and caught
it by the blade, then with a low bow handed it to the officer, who
flashed it through the air, bent the blade between finger and thumb,
then took it near the lamp and scrutinized it with the eye of an expert.
"A good weapon, my friend. Where was it made? I have never seen one like
it."
"It was made by my own hands here in Frankfort. Of course I go first to
those who know least about the matter, but if I can get an introduction
to his Lordship of Mayence, his officers will know a sword when they see
it; and I hope to-night fortune, in leading you to my door, has brought
me an officer of Mayence."
The Lieutenant looked at him, and for the first time smiled. He handed
back the weapon, signed to his men to unbolt the door, which they did,
stepping out; then he said:
"I bid you good-night. Your answers have been satisfactory, but I set
you down not as a mechanic, but a very excellent merchant of swords."
"Lieutenant," said Roland, "you do not flatter me." He raised his weapon
in military salute. "I am no merchant, but a sword maker."
XIX
THE BETROTHAL IN THE GARDEN
Next morning Prince Roland sent a letter to the Archbishop of Mayence
informing him that the Empress had taken up her abode in the Palace of
her old friend, the Lord of Cologne, giving the reasons for this move
and his own desertion of the Imperial Palace, and asking permission to
call upon his mother each day. The messenger brought back a prompt
reply, which commended the delicacy of his motives in leaving the Royal
Palace, but added that, so far as the three Archbishops were concerned,
the Saalhof was still at their disposal: of course Prince Roland's
movements were quite untrammeled, and again, so far as concerned the
three Archbishops, he was at liberty to visit whom he pleased, as often
as he liked.
While waiting for the return of his messenger, Roland called upon Herr
Goebel, and told him that twenty emissaries had gone forth in every
direction from Frankfort to inform the farming community that a market
had been opened in the city, and in exchange learned what the merchant
had already done towards furthering the necessary organization.
"Oh, by the way, Herr Goebel," he cried, suddenly recollecting, "just
write out and sign a document to this effect: 'I promise Herr Roland,
sword maker of Sachsenhausen, to supply him with the capital necessary
for carrying out his contract with his Lordship the Archbishop of
Cologne.'"
Without demur the merchant indited the document, signed it, and gave it
to the Prince.
"If any emissary of Mayence pays you a domiciliary visit, Herr Goebel,
asking questions about me, carefully conceal my real status, and reply
that I am an honest, skillful sword maker, anxious to revive the
iron-working industry, and for this reason, being yourself solicitous
for the welfare of Frankfort, you are risking some money."
In the afternoon Roland walked to the Palace of Cologne and boldly
entered, with no attempt at secrecy, the doorkeeper on this occasion
offering no impediment to his progress. He learned that the Empress,
much fatigued, had retired to her room and must not be disturbed; that
the Archbishop was consulting with the Count Palatine, while the
Countess von Sayn was walking in the garden. Roland passed with some
haste through the Palace, and emerged into the grounds behind it:
grounds delightfully umbrageous, and of an extent surprisingly large,
surrounded by a very high wall of stone, so solidly built that it might
successfully stand a siege.
Roland found the girl sauntering very slowly along one of the most
secluded alleys, whose gravel-path lay deeply in the shade caused by the
thick foliage of over-hanging trees, which made a cool, green tunnel of
the walk. Her head was slightly bowed in thought, her beautiful face
pathetic in its weariness, and the young man realized, with a pang of
sympathy, that she was still to all intents and purposes a prisoner,
with no companions but venerable people. She could not, and indeed did
not attempt to suppress an exclamation of delight at seeing him,
stretching out both hands in greeting, and her countenance cleared as if
by magic.
"I was thinking of you!" she cried, without a trace of coquetry.
"I judged your thoughts to be rather gloomy," he said, with a laugh, in
which she joined.
"Gloomy only because I could see or hear nothing of you."
"Did you know I came yesterday?"
"No. Why did you not ask to see me?"
"I was informed you were entertaining the Count Palatine."
"Ah, yes. He is a delightful old man. I like him better and better as
time goes on. My guardian and I were guests of his at Gutenfels just
before I occupied the marine prison of Pfalz."
"So your guardian told me."
They were now walking side by side in this secluded, thickly-wooded
avenue, just wide enough for two, running in a straight line from wall
to wall the whole length of the property, in the part most remote from
the house.
"Nothing disastrous has happened to you?" she asked. "I have had
miserable forebodings."
"No; I am living a most commonplace life, quite uneventful."
"But why, why does the Archbishop of Mayence delay the Election?"
"I did not know he was doing so."
"Oh, my guardian is very anxious about it. Such postponement, I
understand, never happened before. The State is without a head."
"Has your guardian spoken to Mayence about it?"
"Yes; and has been met by the most icy politeness. Mayence wishes this
Election to take place with a full conclave of the seven Electors, three
of whom have not yet arrived. But my guardian says they never arrive,
and take no interest in Imperial matters. He pointed out to Mayence that
a quorum of the Court is already in Frankfort, but his Lordship of the
Upper Rhine merely protests that they must not force an Election, all of
which my guardian thinks is a mere hiding of some design on the part of
Mayence."
Prince Roland meditated on this for a few moments, then, as if shaking
off his doubts, he said:
"It never occurs to one Archbishop that either of the others may be
speaking the truth. There is so much mistrust among them that they
nullify all united action, which accounts for the prostrate state of
this city, the capital of one of the most prosperous countries under the
sun. So far as I can see, taken individually, they are upright,
trustworthy men. Now, to give you an instance. Your guardian last night
was simply panic-stricken at my audacity in visiting him. He said I must
not come again, refusing me permission to see you; he told you nothing
of my conference with him: he felt certain I was being tracked by spies,
and could not be made to understand that my presence here was of no
consequence one way or another."
"Then why are you here now?"
"I am just coming to that. I asked your guardian to invite my mother as
his guest. Have you met her yet?"
"No; they told me the Empress was too tired to receive any one. I am to
be introduced at dinner to-night."
"Well, this morning I wrote to the Archbishop of Mayence, telling him of
my interview with your guardian, the reason for it, and the results. His
reply came promptly by return." Roland produced the document. "Just read
that, and see whether you detect anything sinister in it."
She read the letter thoughtfully.
"That is honest enough on the surface."