"It is as it has been frequently of late," said the Captain, almost angrily. "We are being fooled by someone, and could I but lay hands on the miscreant who sends us on such errands, I would wring his neck!"
He turned to go away, but paused.
"I am sorry, mistress, the picture was damaged. Send it to Josef Amon, the picture dealer, and tell him to put it to rights at my charges."
He moved away, and tramped down the stairs. To make quite sure that they were not deceived, he and the man with him, and the soldiers who waited below with their feet in a pool of water which had dripped from their clothing, passed through the lower room to the yard, tapping wherever they went.
They were absolutely baffled, for they found nothing which betrayed the presence of the man they sought, and on whose head there was so big a price.
The Captain's voice travelled up the stairs.
"Good-night, mistress. Send the picture to Josef Amon."
The street door slammed. A word of command was heard outside, made tremulous by the gusty wind, and a tramp of soldiers followed, sounded less and less, and before long was no more heard.
Herman had gone to the window which looked into the street, but when he returned the candle showed a laughing face. His eyes danced. His whole frame shook. Laughter conquered him so absolutely that he had to bury his face in the pillow to deaden the sound, lest someone might overhear his boisterous mirth.
"Forgive me, mother," he said, in little bursts, when it was possible to find speech at all. "To think how we did them! Oh, to think of it!"