“But how did you manage to open the door when it was locked and the key inside?” inquired the count.

Satan Laczi showed him the tools which he used to turn keys from the outside.

“Any burglar can open a door from the outside if the key is left in the lock, Herr Count.  Only those doors can be securely locked which have no keyholes outside.”

“I have no idea how that could be arranged,” said Count Vavel.

“I am acquainted with a jack of all trades here in the neighborhood who could make such a door for you if I told him how to make it.  He is a carpenter, locksmith, and clock-maker, all in one person.”

The count shook his head wonderingly.  The robber was to direct the locksmith how to fashion a lock that no one could open!

“Shall I send the man to the castle?” asked Satan Laczi.

“Yes; if the fellow is sensible, and does not chatter.”

“But he is a fool that never knows when to stop talking.  But he talks only on one subject, so you need not be afraid to employ him.  He understands everything you tell him, will do just as you say, but will not talk about what he is doing for you.  There is only one subject on which he will chatter, and that is, how Napoleon might be beaten.  He is continually talking about stratagems, infernal machines, and how to win a battle.  On this subject he is crazy.  He will make doors for the Herr Count that can’t be opened, and tell everybody else only how to make infernal machines, and how to build fortifications.”

“Very good; then send him to me.”

“But—­I must say something else, Herr Count—­no matter how secure your locks may be, that treasure is best guarded against robbers which is kept in the room you sleep in.  A man of courage is worth a hundred locks.  I am not talking without a purpose when I say the Herr Count must look after his treasure.  I know more than I say, and Satan Laczi is not the greatest robber in the world.  Be on your guard!”

“I thank you.”

“Does the Herr Count still believe that it was I and my comrades who broke into the manor?”

“No; I am convinced that it was not you.”

“Then my mission here is accomplished—­”

“Not yet,” interposed the count, stepping to a cupboard, and taking from it a straw-covered bottle and a goblet.  “Here,”—­filling the goblet and handing it to the robber,—­“he who comes to my house as a guest must not quit it without a parting glass.”

“A strange guest, indeed!” responded the robber, taking the proffered glass.  “I came without knocking for admittance.  But I performed a masterpiece to-day; the Herr Count will find it out soon enough!  I do not drink to your welfare Herr Count, for my good wishes don’t go for much in heaven!”

The count seated himself at the table, and said:  “Don’t go just yet, my friend; I want to give you a few words of advice.  I believe you are a good man at heart.  Quit your present mode of life, which will ultimately lead you—­”