The brothers looked at one another in dismay. "Pay up," said one. "Haven't you got any change?" replied the other; and, in short, they were obliged to remain in debt to "The Lamb" for a gulden.
They started back "home without speaking to one another until they came to the cross-road, where the road to the right ran to Zollern and the one to the left to Schalksberg. Then Schalk said:
"How now? We have inherited less than nothing; and moreover, the wine was miserable."
"Yes, to be sure," replied his brother, "but what Frau Feldheimerin said, has come to pass: 'We shall see what part of your inheritance is worth a hirsch-gulden.' And now we were not able to pay for even a measure of wine with it."
"Know it already!" answered he of Schalksberg.
"Stupid stuff!" returned the Count of Zollern, as he rode off moodily, towards his castle.
"That is the Legend of the Hirsch-Gulden," concluded the compass-maker, "and said to be a true one. The landlord at Duerrwangen, which is situated near the three castles, related it to one of my best friends, who often acted as guide through the Suabian Alps, and always put up at Duerrwangen."
The guests applauded the compass-maker's story. "What curious things one hears in the world!" exclaimed the wagoner. "Really, I feel glad now that we did not spoil the time with cards; this is much better, and so interested was I in the story, that I can tell it to-morrow to my comrades without missing a single word of it."
"While you were telling your story, something came into my mind," said the student.
"Oh, tell it, tell it!" pleaded the compass-maker and Felix.