"With lodgment and provender," added the archer, once more unstringing his bow.
"Here, if your pouch has no hole in the bottom of it, is three months' pay, which will not come amiss in your journey down the Moselle."
"I thank your Lordship," said the man, taking the money with great readiness, "this is more to my liking than offers of cudgelling."
"And when you hear that the Emperor has returned to Frankfort I would strongly advise you to go thither, for he is a lover of good qualities wherever found. As for the offer of cudgelling, 'twas but a jest, or at most the outcome of the delay of our custodian."
"Here he is," said the Baron. "I think he will speedily regret his absence."
Across the moonlit river, in a small boat that drifted sideways rapidly in the swift current, a man rowed with sturdy strokes. The two who awaited him stood silently on the bank and watched his approach. The archer had already seated himself with his back to the wall, and was snatching a moment's repose.
As the boatman ceased rowing and allowed his craft to float down to its harbour, the Baron said sternly:
"Get inside as speedily as you may and undo the door. Then I will have a word with you."
A few moments later there was a rattle of chains and bolts, the door was thrown open, and gave the visitors a glimpse of a young man with white face and trembling limbs.