“Doesn’t it please you?” asked Goebel, his suspicions returning.
“Well, it seems to me rather a plebeian action, to attack a man’s castle, and then, if captured, crawl behind a drastic threat like this.”
The merchant shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s a sentimental objection, but of course you need not use the document unless you wish, though I think if you see twenty-one looped ropes dangling in the air your hesitation will vanish. Oh, not on your own account,” cried Goebel, as a sign of dissent from his visitor, “but because of those twenty fine young fellows who doubtless wait to drink wine with you.”
“That is true,” said Roland, with a sigh, folding up the stiff parchment, opening his cloak, and thrusting it under his belt, standing up as he did this.
“Bring me that parchment, bearing the Emperor’s signature and the Great Seal, and you will find the golden coins awaiting you.”
“Very well. At what time this evening would it please you to admit me?”
“Friends of mine are coming to-night, but they are not likely to stop long; merely a few handshakes, and a few cups of wine. I shall be ready for you when the Cathedral clock strikes ten.”
With this the long conference ended, and the aged servitor in the hall showed Roland into the Fahrgasse.
As the young man proceeded down the Weckmarkt into the Saalgasse, he muttered to himself: