y
chain has caught you. This makes the third time, does it not,
Blumenfels?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"You may as well call me 'your Holiness' as 'your Majesty.' I'm
contented with my title, the 'Laughing Baron,' Haw-haw-haw-haw! And so
your merchants have taken to arms again? The lesson at the Lorely taught
them nothing! Are there any ropes aboard, captain?"

"Plenty, my lord."

"Then fling a coil ashore. Now, my tigers," he roared to his
men-at-arms, "hale me to land those damned shopkeepers."

With a clash of armor and weapons the brigands threw themselves on the
boat, and in less time than is taken to tell it, every man of the guild
was disarmed and flung ashore. Here another command of the Red Margrave
gave them the outlaw's knot, as he termed it, a most painful tying-up of
the body and the limbs until each victim was rigid as a red of iron.
They were flung face downwards in a row, and beaten black and blue with
cudgels, despite their screams of agony and appeals for mercy.

"Now turn them over on their backs," commanded the Margrave, and it was
done. The glare of the pitiless torches fell upon contorted faces. The
Baron turned his horse athwart the line of helpless men, and spurred
that animal over it from end to end, but the intelligent horse, more
merciful than its rider, stepped with great daintiness, despite its
unusual size, and never trod on one of the prostrate bodies. During what
followed, the Red Baron, shaking with laughter, marched his horse up and
down over the stricken men.

"Now, unload the boat, but do not injure any of the sailors! I hope to
see them often again. You cannot tell how we have missed you, captain.
What are you loaded with this time? Sound Frankfort cloth?"

"Yes, your Majesty--I mean, my lord."

"No, you mean my Holiness, for I expect to be an Archbishop yet, if all
goes well," and his laughter echoed across the Rhine. "Uplift your
hatches, Blumenfels, and tell your men to help fling the goods ashore."

Delicately paced the fearful horse over the prone men, snorting, perhaps
in sympathy, from his red nostrils, his jet-black coat a-quiver with the
excitement of the scene. The captain obeyed the Margrave with promptness
and celerity. The hatches were lifted, and his sailors, two and two,
flung on the ledge of rock the merchant's bales. The men-at-arms, who
proved to be men-of-all-work, had piled their weapons in a heap, and
were carrying the bales a few yards inland. Through i