The company gathered in the chamber of the inn, gradually recovered from their terror after the departure of the robbers. As is generally the case after some great misfortune or sudden danger has passed by, they would have been very cheerful had not their thoughts been occupied with their three companions, who had been led away before their very eyes. They all broke out in praise of the young goldsmith, and the countess wept when she reflected how deeply she was indebted to one upon whom she had no claim, whom she had never even known. It was a consolation for them all to know that the heroic huntsman and the brave student had accompanied him, and could comfort him in his hours of despondency. They even entertained a hope that the experienced forester would discover a means of escape for himself and companions. They consulted together as to what they had better do. The countess resolved that, as she was bound by no oath to the robbers, she would at once return to her husband, and make every exertion to discover their hiding-place, and set their prisoners free. The wagoner promised to go to Aschaffenburg and summon the officials to organize a pursuit of the robbers, while the compass-maker was to continue his journey.
The travellers were not disturbed any more that night; silence reigned in the forest inn, that had an hour before been the theatre of terrible scenes. But in the morning, when the servants of the countess went below to prepare for her departure, they came running back, and reported that they had found the landlady and her hostler bound on the floor, and begging for assistance.
The travellers gazed at one another in astonishment. "What?" cried the compass-maker. "Then these people must have been innocent. We have done them wrong, for they can have no association with the robbers."
"I will allow myself to be hanged in their place," returned the wagoner, "if we were not right after all. This is only a sham, designed to prevent their conviction. Don't you remember the suspicious appearance of this inn? Don't you remember how, when I started to go down-stairs, the trained dog would not let me pass? how the landlady and the hostler appeared instantly, and asked in a surly way what I was after? Still, all this was well for us, or at least for the lady countess. If things had worn a less suspicious air in the public room, if the landlady had not aroused our distrust, we should not have remained together, nor have kept awake. The robbers could have attacked us in our sleep, or at least would have guarded our doors, so that the substitution of the brave young goldsmith for the countess would not have been possible."
They all agreed with the wagoner, and determined to lodge a complaint against the landlady and her servant, before the magistrate. Still, in order to be on the safe side, they concluded not to manifest the least token of suspicion just yet. The servants and the wagoner went down-stairs, loosened the bonds of the robbers' accomplices, and conducted themselves as sympathetically and sorrowfully as possible. In order to conciliate her guests still more, the landlady charged each one but a very small amount, and extended them a hearty invitation to call again.
The wagoner paid his reckoning, took leave of his companions in misfortune, and started on his road. After him the two journeymen went off. Light as the goldsmith's bundle had been made, it still seemed heavy to the delicate lady. But still heavier was her heart, when the traitorous landlady stretched out her hand to take leave of her at the door. "Why," cried she, "what kind of a spark are you, to be going out into the world so young? You must be a spoiled fellow, whom the master chased out of his shop. But that's none of my business; do me the honor to stop here on your return journey. Good luck to you!"
The countess was so nervous, and trembled so, that she did not dare reply, least she should be betrayed by her voice. The compass-maker, noticing her confusion, took his companion by the arm, bade good-bye to the landlady, and sang a jovial song as they struck out into the forest.
"Now I am really in safety," cried the countess, when they had put a hundred paces between them and the inn. "To the last moment I feared that the landlady would recognize me, and have her servant lock me up. Oh, how can I thank you for all you have done? Come to my castle; you must at least return to meet your travelling companions again."
The compass-maker consented, and while they were thus speaking, the countess's carriage came rolling up behind them; the door was quickly opened, the lady sprang inside, waved a farewell to the young journeyman, and was driven rapidly away.
About this time, the robbers and their prisoners reached the camping place of the band. They had ridden over a rough forest road at a fast trot, exchanging not a word with their prisoners, and conversing among themselves in low tones only when they changed their course. They finally came to a halt just above a deep ravine. The robbers dismounted, and their leader assisted the goldsmith from his horse, apologizing for the fast and wearisome ride he had forced him to take, and inquiring whether the gracious lady felt very much fatigued.