“For yourself, sir?”

“For all, landlord.  What else?  The lads have had no supper, I’ll warrant.”

“A little black bread has gone the rounds.”

“All the more reason that we should have a huge pasty, steaming hot, or two or three of them if necessary.  And your best wine, landlord.  That from the Rheingau.”

But the landlord demurred.

“A meal for yourself, sir, as leader, I could venture upon, but feeding a score of hungry men is a different matter.  Remember, sir, I have not seen the color of their silver for many a long day, and, since these evil times have set in, I am a poor man.”

“Sordid silver?  Out upon silver! unless it is some silvery fish from the river, fresh and firm; and that’s a good idea.  We will begin with fish while you prepare the meat.  ’Tis gold I deal with to-night, and most of it is for your pouch.  Run your hand in here and enjoy the thrill,” and Roland held open the mouth of the bag which contained his treasure.

“Ah!” cried the inn-keeper, his face aglow.  “No such meal is spread to-night in Frankfort as will be set before you.”

There was a great shout as Roland entered the Kaiser cellar, and a hurrah of welcome.

“Ha, renegade!” cried one.  “Have you shirked your task so soon?”

“Coward, coward, poltroon!” was the cry.  “I see by his face he has failed.  Never mind them, Roland.  Your chair at the head of the table always awaits you.  There is a piece of black bread left, and though the wine is thin, it quenches thirst.”

Roland flung off his cloak, hung it and the sword on a peg, and took his seat at the head of the table.  Pushing away the flagons that stood near him, he drew the leathern bag from his belt, and poured the shining yellow coins on the table, at the sight of which there arose such a yell that the stout beams above them seemed to quake.

“Apologize!” demanded Roland, when the clamor quieted down.  “The man who refuses to apologize, and that abjectly, must take down his sword from the peg and settle with me!”

A shout of apology was the response.

“We grovel at your feet, High Mightiness!” cried the man who had called him poltroon.

“I have taken the liberty of ordering a fish and meat supper, with a double quantity of Rudesheimer wine.  Again I offer to fight any man who resents this encroachment on my part.”

“I could spit you with a hand tied behind my back,” cried one, “but I am of a forgiving nature, and will wait instead for the spitted fowl.”

“Most of this money,” continued Roland quietly, “goes, I suspect, to the landlord, as a slight recognition of past kindness, but I am promised a further supply this evening, which will be divided equally among ourselves.  I ask you, therefore, to be sparing of the wine.”  Here he was compelled to pause for some moments, and listen to groans, hoots, howls, and the rapping of empty flagons on the stout table.