"What is the truth of this selling of the castle?"
"The captain was to unbar the gates an hour after guard-changing to-morrow night, and the Archbishop's troops were to enter silently. He told them to be certain to secure your Lordship first, otherwise you might rally the men and defeat the soldiers, even though they got inside."
The Black Count almost smiled as he heard this compliment paid him, and he cast a malignant glance at the silent captain.
"Yes," he cried, "the opening of the gates seems more likely than the climbing of the wall. Now search Steinmetz as you searched his prisoner, and let us see what you discover. I think I heard the chime of coin in his neighbourhood."
Without resistance the searchers brought forth the three bags of gold, one of which the Count tore open, pouring the yellow pieces into his palm as he had done with Conrad's silver. His eyes lit up again with the insane frenzy which now and then shone in them, as he gazed down at the coins, on each of which was the head of his old enemy, Arnold von Isenberg. Scattering the money from his hand as if it had suddenly become red hot, he seized the three bags one after another and dashed them in fury on the stones, where they burst, sending the gold like a shower of sparks from a smith's anvil all over the courtyard. Men's eyes glittered at the sight, but such was their terror of the Black Count that no one moved a muscle as this wealth rolled at their feet.
"Steinmetz," shouted the Count, "draw your sword and cast it on the stones. No man can take it, for none amongst us is so low and vile but he would be contaminated by the touch of it."
Captain Steinmetz drew his sword and flung it ringing at his master's feet. The Count stamped on it near the hilt and shattered the blade like an icicle. Turning to the followers he cried:
"You see this man has sold us. What should be the fate of such a traitor?"
With one voice the men shouted:
"He should be hanged with the rope he designed for the other."