“Oh, yes.”

“And you, my young friend,” he said, turning to Kruger’s son, “rode here on a saddle?”

“No,” interjected his father; “I ride a saddle, but my son was forced to content himself with a length of Herr Goebel’s coarse cloth, folded four times, and strapped to the horse’s back.”

“Then the cloth may still be used as a cushion for the pack-saddle, and you, my lad, will be compelled to walk, to which I dare venture you are well accustomed.”

The lad grinned, but made no objection.

“Now, landlord, while we eat, fill your casks with wine, then place the pack-saddle on the back of this young man’s horse, and the casks thereon, for I dare say you have men expert in such a matter.”

“There are no better the length of the Rhine,” said the landlord proudly.

“Lay the casks so that the bung-holes are upward, and do not drive the bungs more tightly in place than is necessary, for they are to be extracted before Frankfort is reached, that another friend of mine may profit by the wine.  When this is done, bring me word, and let me know how much I owe you.”

The landlord gone, the three men fell to their meal.

“There is more gold,” said Roland, “than I expected, and it is impossible even for two of you to carry it in bags attached to your belts.  Besides, if you are molested, such bestowal of it would prove most unsafe.  A burden of wine, however, is too common either to attract notice or arouse cupidity.  I propose, then, when we leave here, to bring you to the barge belonging to Herr Goebel, and taking out the bungs, we will pour the gold into the barrels, letting the wine that is displaced overflow to the ground.  Then we will stoutly drive in the bungs, and should the guards question you at the gates of Frankfort, you may let them taste the wine if they insist, and I dare say it will contain no flavor of the metal.”

“A most excellent suggestion,” said Herr Kruger with enthusiasm.  “An admirable plan; for I confess I looked forward with some anxiety to this journey, laden down with bags of gold under my cloak.”

“Yes.  You are simply an honest drinker, tired of the white wine of Frankfort, and providing yourself with the stronger fluid that Lorch produces.  I am sure you will deliver the money safely to Herr Goebel, somewhat in drink, it is true, but, like the rest of us, none the worse for that when the fumes are gone.”

The repast finished, and all accounts liquidated, the trio left the inn, and, leading the two horses, reached the barge without observation.  Here the bungs were removed from the casks, and the three men, assisted by the captain, quietly and speedily opened bag after bag, pouring the coins down into the wine; surely a unique adulteration, astonishing even to so heady a fluid as the vintage of Lorch.  From the whole amount Roland deducted two thousand thalers, which he divided equally between two empty bags.