“With that he doffed his hat, and left me standing there.”

“Surely,” said the Countess, deeply interested in the recital, “so far as speech was concerned he made amends?”

“Yes, my daughter; such speech never came from the lips of an ironworker.”

“You are convinced he was the Prince?”

“Never for one instant did I doubt it.”

“Be that as it may, Father Ambrose, why should not the young man walk the streets of his own capital city, and even explore the laborers’ quarter of Sachsenhausen, if he finds it interesting to do so?  Is it not his right to wear a sword, and go where he lists; and is it such a very heinous thing that, being accosted by a stranger, he should refuse to make the admission demanded?  You took him, as one might say, unaware.”

The monk bowed his head, but did not waste time in offering any defense of his action.

“I followed him,” he went on, “through the narrow and tortuous streets of Frankfort, an easy adventure, because darkness had set in, but even in daylight my course would have been safe enough, for never once did he look over his shoulder, or betray any of that suspicion characteristic of our laboring classes.”

“I think that tells in his favor,” persisted the girl.

“He came to the steps of the Rheingold, a disreputable drinking cellar, and disappeared from my sight down its steps.  A great shout greeted him, and the rattle of tankards on a table, as he joined what was evidently his coterie.  Standing outside, I heard song and ribaldry within.  The heir-presumptive to the throne of the Empire was too obviously a drunken brawler; a friend and comrade of the lowest scum in Frankfort.

“After a short time he emerged alone, and once more I followed him.  He went with the directness of a purposeful man to the Fahrgasse, the street of the rich merchants, knocked at a door, and was admitted.  Along the first-floor front were three lighted windows, and I saw his form pass the first two of these, but from my station in the street could not witness what was going on within.  Looking about me, I found to my right a narrow alley, occupied by an outside stairway.  This I mounted, and from its topmost step I beheld the interior of the large room on the opposite side of the way.

“It appeared to me that Prince Roland had been expected, for the elderly man seated at the table, his calm face toward me, showed no surprise at the Prince’s entrance.  His Highness sat with his back towards me, and for a time it seemed that nothing was going forward but an amiable conversation.  Suddenly the Prince rose, threw off his cloak, whisked out his sword, and presented its point at the throat of the merchant.

“It was clear, from the expression of dismay on the merchant’s face, that this move on the part of his guest was entirely unexpected, but its object was speedily manifested.  The old man, with trembling hand, pushed across the table to his assailant a well-filled bag, which the Prince at once untied.  Pouring out a heap of yellow gold, he began with great deliberation to count the money, which, when you consider his precarious situation, showed the young man to be old in crime.  Some portion of the gold he returned to the merchant; the rest he dropped into an empty bag, which he tied to his belt.