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THE
SWORD MAKER
BY
ROBERT BARR
AUTHOR OF
"TEKLA" "CARDILLAC" "THE VICTORS" "IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS" ETC.
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
June, 1910
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. AN OFFER TO OPEN THE RIVER II. THE BARGAIN IS STRUCK III. DISSENSION IN THE IRONWORKERS' GUILD IV. THE DISTURBING JOURNEY OF FATHER AMBROSE V. THE COUNTESS VON SAYN AND THE ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE VI. TO BE KEPT SECRET FROM THE COUNTESS VII. MUTINY IN THE WILDERNESS VIII. THE MISSING LEADER AND THE MISSING GOLD IX. A SOLEMN PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE X. A CALAMITOUS CONFERENCE XI. GOLD GALORE THAT TAKES TO ITSELF WINGS XII. THE LAUGHING RED MARGRAVE OF FURSTENBERG XIII. "A SENTENCE; COME, PREPARE!" XIV. THE PRISONER OF EHRENFELS XV. JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING XVI. MY LADY SCATTERS THE FREEBOOTERS AND CAPTURES THEIR CHIEF XVII. "FOR THE EMPRESS, AND NOT FOR THE EMPIRE" XVIII. THE SWORD MAKER AT BAY XIX. THE BETROTHAL IN THE GARDEN XX. THE MYSTERY OF THE FOREST XXI. A SECRET MARRIAGE XXII. LONG LIVE THEIR MAJESTIES
THE SWORD MAKER
I
AN OFFER TO OPEN THE RIVER
Considering the state of the imperial city of Frankfort, one would notexpect to find such a gathering as was assembled in the Kaiser cellar ofthe Rheingold drinking tavern. Outside in the streets all was turbulenceand disorder; a frenzy on the part of the populace taxing to the utmostthe efforts of the city authorities to keep it within bounds, andprevent the development of a riot that might result in the partialdestruction at least of this once prosperous city. And indeed, theinhabitants of Frankfort could plead some excuse for theirboisterousness. Temporarily, at any rate, all business was at astandstill. The skillful mechanics of the town had long been out ofwork, and now to the ranks of the unemployed were added, from time totime, clerks and such-like clerical people, expert accountants,persuasive salesmen, and small shopkeepers, for no one now possessed themoney to buy more than the bare necessities of life. Yet the warehousesof Frankfort were full to overflowing, with every kind of store thatmight have supplied the needs of the people, and to the unlearned man itseemed unjust that he and his family should starve while granaries werepacked with the agricultural produce of the South, and huge warehouseswere glutted with enough cloth from Frankfort and the surroundingdistricts to clothe ten times the number of tatterdemalions who clamoredthrough the streets.
The wrath of the people was concentrated against one man, and he thehighest in the land; to blame, of course, in a secondary degree, but notthe one primarily at fault for this deplorable state of things. TheEmperor, always indolent from the time he came to the throne, had grownold and crabbed and fat, caring for nothing but his flagon of wine thatstood continually at his elbow. Laxity of rule in the beginning allowedhis nobles to get the upper hand, and now it would require a civil warto bring them into subjection again. They, sitting snug in theirstrongholds, with plenty of wine in their cellars and corn in theirbins, cared nothing for the troubles of the city. Indeed, those whoinhabited either bank of the Rhine, watching from their elevated castlesthe main avenue of traffic between Frankfort and Cologne, her chiefmarket, had throughout that long reign severely taxed the merchantsconveying goods downstream. During the last five years, their exactionsbecame so piratical that finally they killed the goose that laid thegolden eggs, so now the Rhine was without a boat, and Frankfort withouta buyer.
For too long Frankfort had looked to the Emperor, whose business it wasto keep order in his domain, and when at last the merchants, combiningto help themselves, made an effort towards freedom, it was too late. Theresult of their combination was a flotilla of nearly a hundred boats,which, gathering at Frankfort and Mayence, proceeded together down theriver, convoyed by a fleet containing armed men, and thus they thoughtto win through to Cologne, and so dispose of their goods. But the robberBarons combined also, hung chains across the river at the Lorely rocks,its narrowest part, and realizing that this fleet could defeat anysingle one of them, they for once acted in concert, falling upon theboats when their running against the chains threw them into confusion.
The nobles and their brigands were seasoned fighters all, while thearmed men secured by the merchants were mere hirelings, who fled inpanic; and those not cut to pieces by their savage adversaries becamethemselves marauders on a small scale, scattered throughout the land,for there was little use of tramping back to the capital, where alreadya large portion of the population suffered the direst straits.
Not a single bale of goods reached Cologne, for the robbers dividedeverything amongst themselves, with some pretty quarrels, and then theysank the boats in the deepest part of the river as a warning, lest themerchants of Frankfort and Mayence should imagine the Rhine belonged tothem. Meantime, all petitions to the Emperor being in vain, themerchants gave up the fight. They were a commercial, not a warlikepeople. They discharged their servants and underlings, and starvationslowly settled down upon the distressed city.
After the maritime disaster on the Rhine, some of the merchants made afutile attempt to amend matters, for which their leaders paid dearly.They appealed to the seven Electors, finding their petitions to theEmperor were in vain, asking these seven noblemen, including the threewarlike Archbishops of Cologne, Treves, and Mayence, to depose theEmperor, which they had power to do, and elect his son in his stead. Butthey overlooked the fact that a majority of the Electors themselves, andprobably the Archbishops also, benefited directly or indirectly by thepiracies on the Rhine. The answer to this request was the prompt hangingof three leading merchants, the imprisonment of a score of others, and awarning to the rest that the shoemaker should stick to his last, leavinghigh politics to those born to rule. This misguided effort caused thethree Archbishops to arrest Prince Roland, the Emperor's only son, andincarcerate him in Ehrenfels, a strong castle on the Rhine belonging tothe Archbishop of Mayence, who was thus made custodian of the young man,and responsible to his brother prelates of Cologne and Treves for thesafe-keeping of the Prince. The Archbishops, as has been said, were toowell satisfied with the weak administration then established atFrankfort to wish a change, so the lad was removed from the capital,that the citizens of Frankfort might be under no temptation to place himat their head, and endeavor to overturn the existing order of things.
This being the state of affairs in Frankfort, with every one gloomy, anda majority starving, it was little wonder that the main cellar of theRheingold tavern should be empty, although when times were good it wasdifficult to find a seat there after the sun went down. But in thesmaller Kaiser cellar, along each side of the single long table, satyoung men numbering a score, who ate black bread and drank Rhine wine,to the roaring of song and the telling of story. They formed a closecoterie, admitting no stranger to their circle if one dissenting voicewas raised against his acceptance, yet in spite of this exclusivenessthere was not a drop of noble blood in the company. They belonged,however, to the aristocracy of craftsmen; metal-workers for the mostpart, ingenious artificers in iron, beaters of copper, fashioners ofgold and silver. Glorious blacksmiths, they called themselves; but now,like every one else, with nothing to do. In spite of their cityup-bringing all were stalwart, well-set-up young men; and, indeed, theswinging of hammers is good exercise for the muscles of the arm, and inthose turbulent days a youth who could not take care of himself with hisstick or his fists was like to fare ill if he ventured forth afternightfal
l.
This, indeed, had been the chief reason for the forming of their guild,and if one of their number was set upon, the secret call of theorganization shouted aloud brought instant help were any of the memberswithin hearing. Belonging neither to the military nor the aristocracy,they were not allowed to wear swords, and to obtain this privilege wasone of the objects of their organization. Indeed, each member of theguild secretly possessed a weapon of the best, although he risked hisneck if ever he carried it abroad with him. Among their number werethree of the most expert sword makers in all Germany.
These three sword makers had been instrumental in introducing to theirorder the man who was now its leader. This youth came to one of themwith ideas concerning the proper construction of a sword, and thebalancing of it, so that it hung easily in the hand as though part ofthe fore-arm. Usually, the expert has small patience with the theoriesof an amateur; but this young fellow, whose ambition it was to invent asword, possessed such intimate knowledge of the weapon as it was used,not only in Germany, but also in France and Italy, that the sword makerintroduced him to fellow-craftsmen at other shops, and they taught himhow to construct a sword. These instructors, learning that although, asRoland laughingly said, he was not allowed to wear a sword, he couldwield it with a precision little short of marvelous, the guild gavepermission for this stranger to be a guest at one of their weeklymeetings at the Kaiser cellar, where he exhibited his wonderful skill.
Not one of them, nor, indeed, all of them together, stood any chancewhen confronting him. They clamored to be taught, offering good moneyfor the lessons, believing that if they acquired but a tithe of hisexcellence with the blade they might venture to wear it at night, andlet their skill save them from capture. But the young fellow refusedtheir money, and somewhat haughtily declined the role of fencing-master,whereupon they unanimously elected him a member of the coterie, waivingfor this one occasion the rule which forbade the choice of any but ametal-worker. When the stranger accepted the election, he was informedthat it was the duty of each member to come to the aid of his brethrenwhen required, and they therefore requested him to teach themswordsmanship. Roland, laughing, seeing how he had been trapped, as itwere, with his own consent, acceded to the universal wish, and before ayear had passed his twenty comrades were probably the leading swordsmenin the city of Frankfort.
Shortly after the disaster to the merchants' fleet at the Lorely, Rolanddisappeared without a word of farewell to those who had come to think somuch of him. He had been extremely reticent regarding his profession, ifhe had one, and no one knew where he lodged. It was feared that theauthorities had arrested him with the sword in his possession, for hegrew more reckless than any of the others in carrying the weapon. Onenight, however, he reappeared, and took his seat at the head of thetable as if nothing had happened. Evidently he had traveled far and onfoot, for his clothes were dusty and the worse for wear. He refused togive any account of himself, but admitted that he was hungry, thirsty,and in need of money.
His hunger and thirst were speedily satisfied, but the money scarcitywas not so easily remedied. All the score were out of employment, withthe exception of the three sword makers, whose trade the uncertainty ofthe times augmented rather than diminished. To cheer up Roland, who wasa young fellow of unquenchable geniality, they elected him to the emptyhonor of being their leader, Kurzbold's term of office having ended.
The guild met every night now, instead of once a week, and it may beshrewdly suspected that the collation of black bread and sausage formedthe sole meal of the day for many of them. Nevertheless, their hilaritywas undiminished, and the rafters rang with song and laugh, and echoedalso maledictions upon a supine Government, and on the rapacious Rhinelords. But the bestowal of even black bread and the least expensive ofwine could not continue indefinitely. They owed a bill to the landlordupon which that worthy, patient as he had proved himself, always hopingfor better times, wished for at least something on account. All hisother customers had deserted him, and if they drank at all, chose someplace where the wine was thin and cheap. The landlord held out bravelyfor three months after Roland was elected president, then, bemoaning hisfate, informed the guild that he would be compelled to close theRheingold tavern.
"Give me a week!" cried Roland, rising in his place at the head of thetable, "and I will make an effort to get enough gold to settle the billat least, with perhaps something over for each of our pockets."
This promise brought forth applause and a rattle of flagons on thetable, so palpably empty that the ever-hopeful landlord proceededforthwith to fill them.
"There is one proviso," said Roland, as they drank his health in thewine his offer produced. "To get this money I must do something inreturn. I have a plan in mind which it would be premature to disclose.If it succeeds, none of us will ever need to bend back over a workman'sbench again, or hammer metal except for our own pleasure. But actingalone I am powerless, so I must receive your promise that you will standby any pledge I make on your behalf, and follow me into whatever dangerI choose to lead you."
There was a great uproar at this, and a boisterous consent.
"This day week, then," said Roland, as he strapped sword to side, threwcloak over shoulders, so that it completely concealed the forbiddenweapon, waved a hand to his cheering comrades, and went out into thenight.
Once ascended the cellar steps, the young man stood in the narrow streetas though hesitating what to do. Faintly there came to him the sound ofsinging from the cellar he had quitted, and he smiled slightly as helistened to the rousing chorus he knew so well. From the direction ofthe Palace a more sinister echo floated on the night air; theunmistakable howl of anger, pain, and terror; the noise that a pursuedand stricken mob makes when driven by soldiers. The populace hadevidently been engaged in its futile and dangerous task ofdemonstrating, and proclaiming its hunger, and the authorities werescattering it; keeping it ever on the move.
It was still early; not yet ten o'clock, and a full moon shone over thecity, unlighted otherwise. Drawing his cloak closer about him, Rolandwalked rapidly in an opposite direction to that from which the tumult ofthe rabble came, until he arrived at the wide Fahrgasse, a streetrunning north and south, its southern end terminating at the old bridge.Along this thoroughfare lived the wealthiest merchants of Frankfort.
Roland turned, and proceeded slowly towards the river, criticallyexamining the tall, picturesque buildings on either hand, cogitating thequestion which of them would best answer his purpose. They all seemeduninviting enough, for their windows were dark, most of them tightlyshuttered; and, indeed, the thoroughfare looked like a street of thedead, the deserted appearance enhanced, rather than relieved, by thewhite moonlight lying on its cobble-stones.
Nearing the bridge, he discovered one stout door ajar, and behind itshone the yellow glow of a lamp. He paused, and examined critically thefacade of the house, which, with its quiet, dignified architecturalbeauty, seemed the abode of wealth. Although the shutters were closed,his intent inspection showed him thin shafts of light from the chinks,and he surmised that an assemblage of some sort was in progress,probably a secret convention, the members of which entered unannounced,and left the door ajar ready for the next comer.
For a moment he thought of venturing in, but remembering his missionrequired the convincing of one man rather than the persuasion of agroup, he forbore, but noted in his mind the position and designation ofthe house, resolving to select this building as the theater of his firsteffort, and return to it next morning. It would serve his purpose aswell as another.
Roland's attention was then suddenly directed to his own position,standing in the bright moonlight, for there swung round from the riverroad, into the Fahrgasse, a small and silent company, who marched as oneman. The moon was shining almost directly up the street, but the housesto the west stood in its radiance, while those in the east were still inshadow. Roland pressed himself back against the darkened wall to hisleft, near the partially opened door; between it and the river. Thesilent process
ion advanced to the door ajar, and there paused, formingtheir ranks into two lines, thus making a passage for a tall,fine-looking, bearded man, who walked to the threshold, then turned andraised his bonnet in salute.
"My friends," he said, "this is kind of you, and although I have beensilent, I ask you to believe that deeply I appreciate your welcomeescort. And now, enter with me, and we will drink a stoup of winetogether, to the somber toast, 'God save our stricken city!'"
"No, no, Herr Goebel. To-night is sacred. We have seen you safely toyour waiting family, and at that reunion there should be no intruders.But to-morrow night, if you will have us, we will drink to the city, andto your own good health, Herr Goebel."
This sentiment was applauded by all, and the merchant, seeing that theywould not accept his present invitation, bowed in acquiescence, and badethem good-by. When the door closed the delegation separated into units,and each went his own way. Roland, stepping out of the shadow, accostedthe rearmost man.
"Pardon me, mein Herr," he said, "but may I ask what ceremony is this inwhich you have been taking part?"
The person accosted looked with some alarm at his questioner, but themoonlight revealed a face singularly gentle and winning; a face that inspite of its youth inspired instinctive confidence. The tone, too, wasvery persuasive, and seemed devoid even of the offense of curiosity.
"'Tis no ceremony," said the delegate, "but merely the return home ofour friend, Herr Goebel."
"Has he, then, been on a journey?"
"Sir, you are very young, and probably unacquainted with Frankfort."
"I have lived here all my life," said Roland. "I am a native ofFrankfort."
"In that case," replied the other, "you show yourself amazingly ignorantof its concerns; otherwise you would know that Herr Goebel is one of theleading merchants of the city, a man honorable, enlightened, andenergetic--an example to us all, and one esteemed alike by noble orpeasant. We honor ourselves in honoring him."
"Herr Goebel should be proud of such commendation, mein Herr, coming Ijudge, from one to whom the words you use might also be applied."
The merchant bowed gravely at this compliment, but made no remark uponit.
"Pardon my further curiosity," continued the young man, "but from whencedoes Herr Goebel return?"
"He comes from prison," said the other. "He made the mistake of thinkingthat our young Prince would prove a better ruler than his father, ourEmperor, and but that the Archbishops feared a riot if they went toextremes, Herr Goebel ran great danger of losing his life rather thanhis liberty."
"What you say, mein Herr, interests me very much, and I thank you foryour courtesy. My excuse for questioning you is this. I am moved by adesire to enter the employ of such a man as Herr Goebel, and I purposecalling upon him to-morrow, if you think he would be good enough toreceive me."
"He will doubtless receive you," replied the other, "but I am quitecertain your mission will fail. At the present moment none of us areengaging clerks, however competent. Ignorant though you are of civicaffairs, you must be aware that all business is at a standstill inFrankfort. Although Herr Goebel has said nothing about it, I learn froman unquestionable source that he himself is keeping from starvation allhis former employees, so I am sure he would not take on, for a stranger,any further obligation."
"Sir, I am well acquainted with the position of affairs, and it is tosuggest a remedy that I desire speech with Herr Goebel. I do not possessthe privilege of acquaintance with any merchant in this city, so oneobject of my accosting you was to learn, if possible, how I might securesome note of introduction to the merchant that would ensure hisreceiving me, and obtain for me a hearing when once I had been admittedto his house."
If Roland expected the stranger to volunteer such a note, he quiteunderestimated the caution of a Frankfort merchant.
"As I said before, you will meet with no difficulty so far as entranceto the house is concerned. May I take it that you yourself understandthe art of writing?"
"Oh yes," replied Roland.
"Then indite your own letter of introduction. Say that you have evolveda plan for the redemption of Frankfort, and Herr Goebel will receive youwithout demur. He will listen patiently, and give a definite decisionregarding the feasibility of your project. And now, good sir, my waylies to the left. I wish you success, and bid you good-night."
The stranger left Roland standing at the intersection of two streets,one of which led to the Saalhof. They had been approaching theRomerberg, or market-place, the center of Frankfort, when the merchantso suddenly ended the conversation and turned aside. Roland rememberedthat no Jew was allowed to set foot in the Romerberg, and now surmisedthe nationality of his late companion. The youth proceeded alone throughthe Romerberg, and down directly to the river, reaching the spot wherethe huge Saalhof faced its flood. Roland saw that triple guardssurrounded the Emperor's Palace. The mob had been cleared away, but noone was allowed to linger in its precincts, and the youth was grufflyordered to take himself elsewhere, which he promptly did, walking up theSaalgasse, and past the Cathedral, until he came once more into theFahrgasse, down which he proceeded, pausing for another glance atGoebel's house, until he came to the bridge, where he stood with armsresting on the parapet, thoughtfully shaping in his mind what he wouldsay to Herr Goebel in the morning.
Along the opposite side of the river lay a compact mass of barges; ugly,somber, black in the moonlight, silent witnesses to the ruin ofFrankfort. The young man gazed at this melancholy accumulation ofuseless floating stock, and breathed the deeper when he reflected thatwhoever could set these boats in motion again would prove himself,temporarily at least, the savior of the city.
When the bells began to toll eleven, Roland roused himself, walkedacross the bridge to Sachsenhausen, and so to his squalid lodging,consoling himself with the remembrance that the great King Charlemagnehad made this his own place of residence. Here, before retiring to bed,he wrote the letter which he was to send in next day to Herr Goebel,composing it with some care, so that it aroused curiosity withoutsatisfying it.
It was half-past ten next morning when Roland presented himself at thedoor of the leading merchant in the Fahrgasse, and sent in to thatworthy his judiciously worded epistle. He was kept waiting in the halllonger than he expected, but at last the venerable porter appeared, andsaid Herr Goebel would be pleased to receive him. He was conducted upthe stair to the first floor, and into a front room which seemed to bepartly library and partly business office. Here seated at a stout table,he recognized the grave burgher whose home-coming he had witnessed thenight before.
The keen eyes of the merchant seemed to penetrate to his inmost thought,and it struck Roland that there came into them an expression ofdisappointment, for he probably did not expect so youthful a visitor.
"Will you be seated, mein Herr," said his host; and Roland, with aninclination of the head, accepted the invitation. "My time is verycompletely occupied to-day," continued the elder man, "for althoughthere is little business afoot in Frankfort, my own affairs have beenrather neglected of late, and I am endeavoring to overtake the arrears."
"I know that," said Roland. "I stood by your doorcheek last night whenyou returned home."
"Did you so? May I ask why?"
"There was no particular reason. It happened that I walked down theFahrgasse, endeavoring to make up my mind upon whom I should callto-day."
"And why have I received the preference?"
"Perhaps, sir, it would be more accurate to say your house received thepreference, if it is such. I was struck by its appearance of solidityand wealth, and, differing from all others in the door being ajar, Ilingered before it last night with some inclination to enter. Then theprocession which accompanied you came along. I heard your address toyour friends, and wondered what the formality was about. After the doorwas closed I accosted one of those who escorted you, and learned yourname, business, and reputation."
"You must be a stranger in Frankfort when you needed to make suchinquiry."
/> "Those are almost the same words that my acquaintance of last nightused, and he seemed astonished when I replied that I was born inFrankfort, and had lived here all my life."
"Ah, I suppose no man is so well known as he thinks he is, but I ventureto assert that you are not engaged in business here."
"Sir, you are in the right. I fear I have hitherto led a somewhatuseless existence."
"On money earned by some one else, perhaps."
"Again you hit the nail on the head, Herr Goebel. I lodge on the otherside of the river, and coming to and fro each day, the sight of allthose useless barges depresses me, and I have formulated a plan forputting them in motion again."
"I fear, sir, that wiser heads than yours have been meditating upon thatproject without avail."
"I should have been more gratified, Herr Goebel, if you had said 'olderheads.'"
The suspicion of a smile hovered for a brief instant round the shrewd,firm lips of the merchant.
"Young sir, your gentle reproof is deserved. I know nothing of yourwisdom, and so should have referred to the age, and not to the equipmentof your head. It occurs to me, as I study you more closely, that I havemet you before. Your face seems familiar."
"'Tis but a chance resemblance, I suspect. Until very recently I havebeen absorbed in my studies, and rarely left my father's house."
"I am doubtless mistaken. But to return to our theme. As you areignorant of my name and standing in this city, you are probably unawareof the efforts already made to remove the deadlock on the Rhine."
"In that, Herr Goebel, you are at fault. I know an expedition of follywas promoted at enormous expense, and that the empty barges, numberingsomething like fivescore, now rest in the deepest part of the Rhine."
"Why do you call it an expedition of folly?"
"Surely the result shows it to be such."
"A plan may meet with disaster, even where every precaution has beentaken. We did the best we could, and if the men we had paid for theprotection of the flotilla had not, with base cowardice, deserted theirposts, these barges would have reached Cologne."
"Never! The defenders you chose were riff-raff, picked up in the guttersof Frankfort, and you actually supposed such cattle, undisciplined anduntrained, would stand up against the fearless fighters of the Barons,swashbucklers, hardened to the use of sword and pike. What else was tobe expected? The goods were not theirs, but yours. They had receivedtheir pay, and so speedily took themselves out of danger."
"You forget, sir, or you do not know, that several hundred of them werecut to pieces."
"I know that, also, but the knowledge does not in the least nullify mycontention. I am merely endeavoring to show you that the heads you spokeof a moment ago were only older, but not necessarily wiser than mine. Itwould be impossible for me to devise an expedition so preposterous."
"What should we have done?"
"For one thing, you should have gone yourselves, and defended your ownbales."
The merchant showed visible signs of a slowly rising anger, and had theyoung man's head contained the wisdom he appeared to claim for it, hewould have known that his remarks were entirely lacking in tact, andthat he was making no progress, but rather the reverse. "You speak likea heedless, untutored youth. How could we defend our bales, when nomerchant is allowed to wear a sword?"
Roland rose and put his hands to the throat of his cloak.
"I am not allowed to wear a sword;" and saying this, he dramaticallyflung wide his cloak, displaying the prohibited weapon hanging from hisbelt. The merchant sat back in his chair, visibly impressed.
"You seem to repose great confidence in me," he said. "What if I were toinform the authorities?"
The youth smiled.
"You forget, Herr Goebel, that I learned much about you from your friendlast night. I feel quite safe in your house."
He flung his cloak once more over the weapon, and sat down again.
"What is your occupation, sir?" asked the merchant.
"I am a teacher of swordsmanship. I practice the art of afencing-master."
"Your clients are aristocrats, then?"
"Not so. The class with which I am now engaged contains twenty skilledartisans of about my own age."
"If they do not belong to the aristocracy, your instruction must besurreptitious, because it is against the law."
"It is both surreptitious and against the law, but in spite of thesedisadvantages, my twenty pupils are the best swordsmen in Frankfort, andI would willingly pit them against any twenty nobles with whom I amacquainted."
"So!" cried the merchant. "You are acquainted with twenty nobles, areyou?"
"Well, you see," explained the young man, flushing slightly, "thesemetal-workers whom I drill, being out of employment, cannot afford topay for their lessons, and naturally, as you indicated, a fencing-mastermust look to the nobles for his bread. I used the word acquaintancehastily. I am acquainted with the nobles in the same way that a clerk inthe woolen trade might say he was acquainted with a score of merchants,to none of whom he had ever spoken."
"I see. Am I to take it that your project for opening the Rhine dependsfor its success on those twenty metal-workers, who quite lawlessly knowhow to handle their swords?"
"Yes."
"Tell me what your plan is."
"I do not care to disclose my plan, even to you."
"I thought you came here hoping I should further your project, andperhaps finance it. Am I wrong in such a surmise?"
"Sir, you are not. The very first proviso is that you pay to me acrossthis table a thousand thalers in gold."
The smile came again to the lips of the merchant.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Yes. You will select one of your largest barges, and fill it withwhatever class of goods you deal in."
"Don't you know what class of goods I deal in?"
"No! I do not."
Goebel's smile broadened. That a youth so ignorant of everythingpertaining to the commerce of Frankfort, should come in thus boldly anddemand a thousand thalers in gold from a man whose occupation he did notknow, seemed to the merchant one of the greatest pieces of impudence hehad encountered in his long experience of men.
"After all, my merchandise," he said, "matters little one way or anotherwhen I am engaged with such a customer as you. What next?"
"You will next place a price upon the shipload; a price such as youwould accept if the boat reached Cologne intact. I agree to pay you thatmoney, together with the thousand thalers, when I return to Frankfort."
"And when will that be, young sir?"
"You are better able to estimate the length of time than I. I do notknow, for instance, how long it takes a barge to voyage from Frankfortto Cologne."
"Given fair weather, which we may expect in July, and premising thatthere are no interruptions, let us say a week."
"Would a man journeying on horseback from Cologne to Frankfort reachhere sooner than the boat?"
"The barge having to make headway against a strong current, I should saythe horseman would accomplish the trip in a third of the time."
"Very well. To allow for all contingencies, I promise to pay the moneyone month from the day we leave the wharf at Frankfort."
"That would be eminently satisfactory."
"I forgot to mention that I expect you, knowing more about navigationthan I, to supply a trustworthy captain and an efficient crew for themanning of the barge. I should like men who understand the currents ofthe river, and who, if questioned by the Barons, would not be likely totell more than they were asked."
"I can easily provide such a set of sailors."
"Very well, Herr Goebel. Those are my requirements. Will you agree tosupply them?"
"With great pleasure, my young and enthusiastic friend, provided thatyou comply with one of the most common of our commercial rules."
"And what is that, mein Herr?"
"Before you depart you will leave with me ample security that if I neversee you again, the val
ue of the goods, plus the thousand thalers, willbe repaid to me when the month is past."
"Ah," said the young man, "you impose an impossible condition."
"Give me a bond, then, signed by three responsible merchants."
"Sir, as I am acquainted with no merchant in this city except yourself,how could I hope to obtain the signature of even one responsible man?"
"How, then, do you expect to obtain my consent to a project which I knowcannot succeed, while I bear all the risk?"
"Pardon me, Herr Goebel. I and my comrades risk our lives. You riskmerely your money and your goods."
"You intend, then, to fight your way down the Rhine?"
"Surely. How else?"
"Supported by only twenty followers?"
"Yes."
"And you hope to succeed where a thousand of our men failed?"
"Yes; they were hirelings, as I told you. With my twenty I could putthem all to flight. Aside from this, I should like to point out to youthat the merchants of Frankfort formed their combination at publicmeetings, called together by the burgomaster. There was no secrecy abouttheir deliberations. Every robber Baron along the Rhine knew what youwere going to attempt, and was prepared for your coming. I intend thatyour barge shall leave Frankfort at midnight. My company will proceedacross country, and join her at some agreed spot, probably belowBingen."
"I see. Well, my young friend, you have placed before me a veryinteresting proposal, but I am a business man, and not an adventurer.Unless you can furnish me with security, I decline to advance a singlethaler, not to mention a thousand."
The young man rose to his feet, and the merchant, with a sigh, seemedglad that the conference was ended.
"Herr Goebel, you deeply disappoint me."
"I am sorry for that, and regret the forfeiting of your good opinion,but despite that disadvantage I must persist in my obstinacy."
"I do not wonder that this fair city lies desolate if her prosperitydepends upon her merchants, and if you are chief among them; yet Icannot forget that you risked life and liberty on my behalf, though nowyou will not venture a miserable thousand thalers on my word of honor."
"On _your_ behalf? What do you mean?"
"I mean, Herr Goebel, that I am Prince Roland, only son of the Emperor,and that you placed your neck in jeopardy to elevate me to the throne."