t down and
again put on his spectacles, told him to apply to the man himself.
Kohlhaas, who allowed no gesture to show what was passing in his mind,
declared that he was quite ready to follow the baron to the market, and
inspect the horses, which the knacker had brought to the city. He
then, while the baron turned round, confused, again approached the
chancellor's table, and took leave of him, having given him from his
pocket-book several papers relative to the surrender at Luetzen. The
baron, who, with a face red as fire, had retired to the window,
likewise took leave of the chancellor, and the two, accompanied by the
guards appointed by the Prince of Misnia, proceeded to the palace-yard,
accompanied by a multitude of people. Herr Conrad, the chamberlain,
who, in spite of the solicitation of several friends on the spot, had
maintained his ground among the people against the knacker of Doebbeln,
no sooner saw the baron and the horse-dealer, than he approached the
latter, and, holding his sword proudly under his arm, asked him if the
horses which stood behind the cart were his. The horse-dealer, after
modestly turning to the gentleman who questioned him, and whom he did
not know, and touching his hat, went up to the knacker's cart, followed
by the train of knights. At about twelve paces distance he glanced
hastily at the animals, who stood on tottering legs, with their heads
bent to the ground, and did not eat the hay which the knacker put
before them, and then returning to the chamberlain, exclaimed:
"Gracious sir, the man is quite right; the horses which are bound to
the cart belong to me." Then looking at the circle around him, he
touched his hat once more, and, attended by his guard, again left the
spot. The chamberlain had no sooner heard what Kohlhaas said, than he
approached the knacker with a hurried step, that made the plume on his
helmet shake, flung him a purse full of gold; and while the man, with
the purse in his hand, was staring at his money, and was combing back
his hair with a leaden comb, he ordered his servant to detach the
horses and lead them home. This servant, who, at his master's call,
had left a circle of friends and relatives in the crowd, went up to the
horses over a large puddle, with a face somewhat crimson. Scarcely,
however, had {202} he touched the halter, than his cousin, Master
Himboldt, with the words, "You shall not touch that carrion," seized
his arm and flung him from the car