“It is the Prince of Thieves you are, then,” said Herr Goebel.

“So it would appear.  With your right hand pass that bag of gold across the table, and beg of me to accept it.”

The merchant promptly did what he was told to do.

The young man put his sword back in its place, laughing joyously, but there was no answering smile on the face of Herr Goebel.  As he had said, the condition of things in Frankfort, especially in that room, failed to make for merriment.  Roland, without being invited, drew up a chair, and sat down at the opposite side of the table.

“Please do not attempt to dash for the door,” he warned, “because I can quite easily intercept you, as I am nearer to it than you are, and more active.  Call philosophy to your aid, and take whatever happens calmly.  I assure you, ’tis the best way, and the only way.”

He untied the cord, and poured the bulk of the gold out upon the table.  The merchant watched him with amazement.  For all the robber knew, the door might be opened at any moment, but he went on with numbering the coins as nonchalantly as if seated in the treasury of the Corn Exchange.  When he had counted half the sum the bag contained, he poured the loose money by handfuls into the wallet that had held his mother’s contribution, and pushed towards the merchant the bag, in which remained five hundred thalers.

“You are to know,” he said with a smile, abandoning his bent-forward posture, “that when I visited my mother this afternoon, she quite unexpectedly gave me five hundred thalers, so I shall accept from you only half the sum I demanded this morning.”

“Your mother!” cried the merchant.  “Who is your mother?”

“The Empress, as I told you.  Oh, at last I understand your uneasiness.  You wished to see that document!  Why didn’t you ask for it?  I asked for the money plainly enough.  Well, here it is.  Examine Seal and sign-manual.”

The merchant minutely scrutinized the Great Seal and the signature above it.

“I don’t know what to think,” stammered Herr Goebel at last, gazing across the table with bewildered face.

“Think of your good fortune.  A moment ago you imagined a thousand thalers were lost.  Now it is but five hundred thalers invested, and you are a partner with the Royal House of the Empire.”

III

DISSENSION IN THE IRONWORKERS’ GUILD

Up to the time of his midnight awakening, Prince Roland had led a care-free, uneventful life.  Although he received the general education supposed to be suitable for a youth of his station, he interested himself keenly in only two studies, but as one of these challenged the other, as it were, the result was entirely to the good.  He was a very quiet boy, much under the influence of his mother, seeing little or nothing of his easy-going, inebriated father.  It was his mother who turned her son’s attention towards