“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?”