“Oh, we could manage that easily enough, master!  There are other ways of getting pistoles than by earning them.”

Thus chatting they had crossed the bridge and were now entering Eichstadt.  Going to a quiet cabaret they ate a hearty meal, and Hector afterwards bought the axes and knives, and they left the town just before the gates were closed.  They had walked some miles when a thunderstorm, which had for some time been threatening, broke over them.

“We must get some shelter if we can,” Hector said.  “I see a light on ahead.  Let us push on and take refuge before we are wet to the skin.”

On reaching the house they saw that it was a wayside inn.

“We are in luck, Paolo,” Hector said as he lifted the latch.

The door, however, was fastened, and on his knocking a voice asked, “Who is there at this time of night?”

“Travellers,” Hector replied.  “Come, open the door quickly or we shall be wet to the skin!” and he emphasized his words by kicking at the door.  It was, however, a minute or two before it was opened, and Hector, who was becoming furious at this delay, had just taken his axe from his belt and was about to break the door in when it opened, and a man with a torch in one hand and a sword in the other stood on the threshold.

CHAPTER XVII:  A ROBBER’S DEN

“What mean you by knocking thus furiously?” the landlord of the little inn asked angrily.

“What mean you by keeping your door shut in the face of travellers on such a night as this?” Hector replied, even more loudly.  “Are honest men to be kept waiting in the rain while you are taking no steps to let them in?”

“How could I tell that you are honest men?” the landlord retorted.

“Because if we had not been honest men we should long before this have battered your door down, as indeed I was just going to do when you opened it.”

“Well, come in,” the landlord said with an evil smile.  “Maybe you would have done better to have passed on.”

He showed them into the taproom, where two or three rough men were sitting.

“What did these fellows mean by knocking so loudly?” one of them asked angrily.

“It means,” Hector replied, “that travellers have a right to claim shelter of an inn; and indeed, inn or no inn, no one would refuse shelter to travellers on such a night as this is going to be.”  And his words were emphasized by a crash of thunder overhead.

“You crow pretty loud, young fellow,” the man growled.

“I speak loud because I have right on my side.  I desire to quarrel with no man; but one need indeed be a saint to keep one’s temper when one is kept standing outside a door with the rain coming down in great drops, and threatening in another minute to come in bucketfuls.  It is all the worse when, as you see, one has a sick comrade with one.”