"Show me the sword. I'll tell you where it's made!"

If he expected hesitation he was mistaken. Roland gave a joyful cry,
swept aside the cloak, whisked forth the sword, flung it up, and caught
it by the blade, then with a low bow handed it to the officer, who
flashed it through the air, bent the blade between finger and thumb,
then took it near the lamp and scrutinized it with the eye of an expert.

"A good weapon, my friend. Where was it made? I have never seen one like
it."

"It was made by my own hands here in Frankfort. Of course I go first to
those who know least about the matter, but if I can get an introduction
to his Lordship of Mayence, his officers will know a sword when they see
it; and I hope to-night fortune, in leading you to my door, has brought
me an officer of Mayence."

The Lieutenant looked at him, and for the first time smiled. He handed
back the weapon, signed to his men to unbolt the door, which they did,
stepping out; then he said:

"I bid you good-night. Your answers have been satisfactory, but I set
you down not as a mechanic, but a very excellent merchant of swords."

"Lieutenant," said Roland, "you do not flatter me." He raised his weapon
in military salute. "I am no merchant, but a sword maker."

XIX

THE BETROTHAL IN THE GARDEN

Next morning Prince Roland sent a letter to the Archbishop of Mayence
informing him that the Empress had taken up her abode in the Palace of
her old friend, the Lord of Cologne, giving the reasons for this move
and his own desertion of the Imperial Palace, and asking permission to
call upon his mother each day. The messenger brought back a prompt
reply, which commended the delicacy of his motives in leaving the Royal
Palace, but added that, so far as the three Archbishops were concerned,
the Saalhof was still at their disposal: of course Prince Roland's
movements were quite untrammeled, and again, so far as concerned the
three Archbishops, he was at liberty to visit whom he pleased, as often
as he liked.

While waiting for the return of his messenger, Roland called upon Herr
Goebel, and told him that twenty emissaries had gone forth in every
direction from Frankfort to inform the farming community that a market
had been opened in the city, and in exchange learned what the merchant
had already done towards furthering the necessary organization.

"Oh, by the way, Herr Goebel," he cried, suddenly recollecting, "just
write out and sign a document to