THE STORY OF THE FLORIN.
IN Upper Suabia stands to this very day the ruins of a castle that was once the most stately in the whole neighbourhood, namely, that of Hohenzollern. It is built upon the summit of a steep hill, from the rugged heights of which the surrounding country can be viewed far and wide. But, further than the eye can travel, throughout the most remote parts of Germany, the race of Hohenzollern was ever known, feared and respected.
A bearded man, wearing armourStormy Weather Zollern.(P.182.)
Stormy Weather Zollern.(P.182.)
Hundreds of years ago there lived in this solitary stronghold one of the race who, it is true, was feared, but also distrusted by all, although it could not be actually said of him that he oppressed his subjects or lived at open enmity with his neighbours.
Few besides the inhabitants of the castle had ever heard him speak a civil word, for if he rode through the valley and chanced to meet anyone who raisedhis cap and said: “Good evening, Count, what fine weather we are having,” he would reply in surly tones, “Rubbish!” or “I know that already.”
But if anyone neglected his work, or if perchance the Count met a peasant driving his cart on a narrow road so that he could not pass quickly, then a perfect storm of fury burst from his lips. He did not ill-treat the object of his wrath, but he would rage and storm so wildly that folks had given him the nickname of “Stormy Weather Zollern.”
Stormy Weather had a wife who was the direct opposite of himself; for she was as mild and gentle as a May day, and her kind words and pleasant smile often went a good way towards healing the breach between her husband and the neighbours he offended. She was good to the poor and would climb down the steep hill-side, summer and winter alike, to go to the aid of anyone in distress. Sometimes she met the Count when she was thus employed, and he would glance at her and say: “Nonsense, nonsense, why don’t you mind your own business?”
Many a less loving wife would have ceased to love such a disagreeable, cross-grained fellow, but not so the Lady Hedwig. She would try to coax the Count into a better temper, or make excuses for him when there were really none to be made.
They had one son, a sweet little baby whom the Count professed to care very little about. He never saw him but once a week, and that was on a Sunday afternoon, when the nurse carried the baby in her arms. When he said “Father” for the first time, theCount gave the Nurse a florin; but he took no further notice of the child.
On the little one’s third birthday the Count ordered him to wear his first pair of breeches, and had him clothed in velvet and silk, and very pretty he looked. Then he ordered his own and a second very fine spirited horse to be brought to the gateway and, taking the child on his arm, began to descend the steep staircase, his spurs rattling and clanging as he went. The Lady Hedwig made it a rule never to enquire where he was going or when he was returning when he rode out, but now her anxiety for her child urged her to.
“Are you going riding?” The Count did not answer, so she said: “Why are you taking the little one with you? Cuno is going for a walk with me.”
“Rubbish,” said the Count, and went on down the steps until he reached the courtyard. Then he put the child upon the horse’s back and tied him firmly on with a broad scarf, flung himself upon his own steed and trotted out of the castle gates, taking the reins of the little boy’s horse in his own hands. At first the little one seemed to enjoy riding down the hill with his father. He clapped his hands and laughed and shook his horse’s mane to make it go faster, and the Count was pleased and said once or twice: “You will be a brave fellow some of these fine days.”
But when the plain was reached and, instead of a trot, the Count changed the horse’s pace to a gallop, the child was nervous. First he begged his fatherto go slower, but instead of that the pace was increased. The strong wind took poor Cuno’s breath away and he began to cry softly. Faster and faster they went, and then the boy screamed at the top of his voice.
“Nonsense, nonsense, stop that screaming,” began Stormy Weather Zollern; but at that moment his own horse shied, and the reins of the child’s steed slipped from his grasp. It took some moments to regain the mastery of his horse, and when he had done this he saw to his consternation that the boy’s horse was riderless and was galloping back towards the castle.
Although such a hard surly man, his heart failed him at this sight, for he believed nothing less than that his child lay crushed upon the roadside. He tore his beard and made great lament.
He rode back, but could see no trace of the boy, and was beginning to think that the restive animal had flung him into a ditch, when suddenly he heard a child’s voice calling him. He turned quickly, and there, not far from the roadside, an old woman sat beneath a tree and rocked the little one upon her knees.
“How do you come to have the boy, you old witch?” cried Stormy Weather angrily. “Bring him here to me immediately!”
“Not so fast, not so fast, my lord Count,” said the old woman, “or you, too, may come to grief on your fine horse. You ask me how I come to hold the child in my arms! Well, his horse threw him and he was hanging, bound by one little foot, hishair sweeping the dust, when I caught him in my apron.”
Cuno and his father out ridingTHE STORY OF THE FLORIN“Faster and faster they went”(p.184.)
THE STORY OF THE FLORIN“Faster and faster they went”(p.184.)
“Oh! Rubbish,” said the Count ill-humouredly. “Give him to me, for I cannot dismount, the horse is restive and might kick him.”
“Give me a florin then?” begged the old woman.
“Rubbish!” cried the Count and threw her a few coppers.
“No, no,” said the old woman, “give me a florin.”
“A florin indeed, you’re not worth one,” answered the Count. “Give me the child quickly, or I will set my dog on you.”
“Ah! so I’m not worth a florin?” she said with a scornful smile. “Well, we shall see some day if your inheritance will be worth so much as a florin. Here, take your coppers, you can keep them.” As she spoke she threw the coppers towards the Count, and so straight was her aim that they fell, one by one, into the leathern purse the Count still held in his hand.
The Count was unable to speak for some minutes, so astounded was he at the old woman’s dexterity. Then his surprise changed to anger. He raised his gun and levelled it at her, but she kissed and caressed the little Count, holding him before her, so that the bullet would have struck him first.
“You are a good honest little lad,” she said. “Remain so all your life and you will have all you wish for.” Then she released him and, shaking her finger threateningly at the Count, cried—“Zollern,Zollern, you still owe me the florin.” Then she turned away heedless of the Count’s angry words, and, leaning on her staff, disappeared in the wood.
Conrad, the Count’s groom, dismounted, and, taking the little boy in his arms, set him on his saddle and then mounted behind him and rode after his master up the steep hill to the castle.
This was the first and last time that Stormy Weather Zollern took his little son riding, for he considered him effeminate and faint-hearted because he had cried when the horse galloped, and decided that he would never be worth anything. He looked at him with displeasure and whenever the little one came to him and wished to sit upon his knee and be caressed he would push him away and say harshly: “Rubbish—get away!”
The Lady Hedwig had borne her husband’s ill-temper without a murmur, but his harsh treatment of his innocent child wounded her deeply. She fretted and fretted, for whenever the boy committed some trifling offence he was punished so severely that she was afraid for him, and at length it preyed upon her mind so much that she fell ill and died. She was mourned by the whole household and by everyone in the neighbourhood, though most deeply by her son.
From this time the Count took no further notice of his son, but left him entirely to the care of his nurse and the old chaplain. Shortly afterwards he married again, a young and rich lady, and as she had twin sons the Count consoled himself with them.
Cuno’s favourite walk was to visit the old womanwho had once saved his life. She told him all about his dead mother, and how much good she had done in her lifetime. The maids and men-servants warned him repeatedly not to go so often to see her, assuring him that she was nothing more nor less than a witch. But the boy was not afraid, for the chaplain had taught him that there were no such people as witches and that the stories about them riding on broomsticks through the air were all nonsense.
It is true he saw at the old woman’s hut all sorts of strange things which he could not understand, and he still remembered the trick with the copper coins which she had played on his father. Then she knew how to mix all sorts of ointments and draughts with which to heal both man and beast; but it was certainly not true, as some folks declared, that she had a weather-glass, and when she hung it over the fire there was a fearful thunderstorm. She taught the young Count a good deal that was useful to him, for instance, all sorts of remedies for sick horses and cattle, how to mix a bait to lure the fishes, and many other useful things. The old woman was almost his sole companion, for his nurse died and his stepmother never troubled about him at all.
By-and-by, as his brothers grew up, his life was even sadder than before, for the twins were so fortunate as to keep their seats at their first ride, and Stormy Weather Zollern thought them clever manly fellows and loved them accordingly, and rode out with them every day and taught them everything he knew himself. But they did not learn much good;the Count could neither read nor write and he would not allow his sons to waste time over such things.
By the time they were ten years old they were as wild and quarrelsome as their father and led a cat-and-dog life between themselves.
It was only when they wanted to play some unkind trick on Cuno that they were united.
Their mother did not interfere, she thought it manly for them to fight one another. One day an old servant spoke to the Count about the way the two boys fought and quarrelled, and although he only said: “Rubbish!” he bore it in remembrance, and thought out a means to prevent their killing one another as they grew older and fiercer, for the witch’s warning still rang in his ears: “We shall see if your inheritance will be worth a florin.”
One day when he was out hunting he noticed two hills which seemed to him to have been specially formed as the site of two castles, and made up his mind to build one on each. And so he did, and named the castles one Schalksberg, and the other Hirschberg. Stormy Weather Zollern intended leaving the castle of Hohenzollern to his eldest son and the other two castles to the two younger ones, but his wife never rested until she made him alter his mind.
“Stupid Cuno,” this was what she always called the poor boy, “stupid Cuno is rich enough as it is with what he inherited from his mother, and yet you would give him the beautiful castle of Hohenzollern, and my sons are only to have a castle with nothing but woods attached.”
Cuno watches the old woman making remediesThe old woman taught the Count a good deal that was useful to him.(P.189.)
The old woman taught the Count a good deal that was useful to him.(P.189.)
In vain the Count pointed out to her that Cuno could not be so easily deprived of his birthright; she wept and scolded until even Stormy Weather, who was generally so stubborn, gave in for the sake of peace, and made a will leaving Schalksberg to Schalk, the younger of the twins, and Hohenzollern to Wolf, the elder, whilst Hirschberg, together with the little town of Balingen, were given to Cuno.
Soon afterwards he fell very ill. The doctor warned him of his approaching end and so did thechaplain, the latter bidding him prepare to face death, but he only growled out:—“Rubbish!” and so died as he had lived, a wild, fierce-tempered man.
Scarcely had he been laid in his grave than the Countess brought the will to Cuno and told him mockingly that, since he was so learned, he might read it and see for himself that he had no longer any interest in Hohenzollern, and she rejoiced with her two sons over the fact that they had deprived Cuno of his inheritance.
Cuno did not attempt to dispute the will, but took leave of the castle with tears in his eyes, for not only had he been born there, but his dear mother lay buried there, and his good old friend the chaplain lived there, whilst his only other friend lived close by. The Castle of Hirschberg was a fine stately castle, but very lonesome and desolate, and he suffered terribly from home-sickness and for longing after his beautiful birthplace.
The Countess and the twin brothers, who were now eighteen years of age, were sitting one evening, gazing down upon the road that led to the castle of Hirschberg, when they saw a stately knight approaching on horseback. He was followed by a litter, borne by two mules and accompanied by many attendants. For a long time they could not think who was coming to visit them, but at length Schalk cried: “It is only our brother from Hirschberg.”
“What! Stupid Cuno?” asked the Countess in surprise. “He is evidently going to honour us with an invitation to pay him a visit. The litter he hasno doubt brought for me, to carry me up to the Castle of Hirschberg. Well, I would not have credited him with so much good feeling. One act of politeness deserves another, so we will go down to the castle gates and meet him. Now be sure you look pleasant and receive him kindly; probably when we reach Hirschberg he will make us a present each. He will give you a horse possibly, you a suit of armour, and as for me I have long wanted his mother’s jewels.”
“I will accept nothing from Stupid Cuno,” said Wolf, “and I shall certainly not make him welcome: as far as I am concerned, the sooner he follows my father the better pleased I shall be; we shall then inherit the Castle of Hirschberg, and Schalk and I will sell you the jewels at a cheap rate.”
“Indeed, you rascal,” scolded his mother, “and so I am to buy the jewels of you, eh? Is that your thanks to me for having procured the Castle of Zollern for you? Schalk, my son, you would give me the jewels without payment, would you not?”
“Death is the only thing to be had without payment,” joked her son, laughing, “and if it is true the jewels are worth a king’s ransom we should be foolish indeed to hang them round your neck for nothing. As soon as Cuno dies we shall ride over to Hirschberg and divide his property. The jewels we shall sell, and if you give a higher price than anyone else you can have them.”
As they talked they had approached the castle gate, and the Countess was forced to suppress her anger, for Cuno was now riding over the drawbridge.
When he became aware of his stepmother and his brothers he reined in his horse, dismounted, and greeted them politely, for although they had done him so much harm he would not allow himself to forget that they were his brothers and she his father’s widow.
“We are indeed pleased that you should visit us, my son,” said the Countess in honied tones, and with a caressing smile. “And how is everything at Hirschberg? Do you grow more accustomed to the place? I see you have brought a litter. What a splendid one! An empress need not blush to ride in it. I expect it will not be long before there is a Mistress to ride about in it.”
“I have not yet thought of marriage, my gracious lady mother,” replied Cuno, “and therefore I am here to fetch someone to keep me company at home, and I have brought the litter on that account.”
“You are very thoughtful and kind,” the lady interrupted him.
“He cannot very well mount a horse now,” Cuno continued quietly. “It is Father Joseph, the chaplain, that I have come for. I am going to take him with me, for he was my tutor, and we settled it should be so before I left Hohenzollern. Then I intend taking with me the old woman who lives at the foot of the hill. She is very old now and it was she who saved my life the first time I went out to ride with my father. There are rooms to spare in Hirschberg, and there she shall spend her last days.”
So saying, he passed through the courtyard andentered the castle to fetch the old chaplain. Wolf bit his lips with anger, the Countess was white with rage, but Schalk laughed out loud: “What will you give me for the horse he was to present to me?” he cried. “Brother Wolf, shall I exchange it for your suit of armour? Ha! ha! ha! so he is going to take the old chaplain and the witch to keep him company. What a fine pair to be sure! In the morning he can amuse himself by taking lessons in Greek, and in the afternoon he can study witchcraft. Stupid Cuno is without doubt a comical fellow.”
“He is a very low fellow,” said the Countess, “and you should be ashamed to laugh at him. It is a disgrace to the family, and we shall be shamed in the eyes of the whole neighbourhood when it becomes known that the Count has taken the old witch to live with him, and carried her off in a magnificent litter drawn by mules. He has inherited his tastes from his mother, she was always mixing herself up with sick folks and common people. What would his father say?”
“His father would just say ‘Rubbish,’” said Schalk, laughing.
“Here he comes,” said the Countess, “he is not ashamed to give the old man his arm, just as though he were his equal. I will not meet him again.”
So the mother and her two sons did not wait to bid Cuno good-bye, but he just led his old friend gently across the bridge and placed him in the litter. When he came to the foot of the hill he stopped in front of the old woman’s hut, and found her quiteready to accompany him. She had a large bundle of little glass pots, and little bottles with medicine in them, and she stood leaning upon her staff waiting for Cuno.
Things did not turn out as the Countess had supposed they would, for instead of laughing at him everyone praised Cuno for his kindness in caring for the last days of the poor old woman, and his pious affection for the old priest, Father Joseph.
The only persons who found fault with him were the Countess and his two brothers, and, as everyone knew how disagreeable and quarrelsome they were, no one paid any heed to the unkind things they said.
They passed Cuno by as though he were a stranger, and this treatment hurt the young man very much, for he thought it wrong that three brothers should be at enmity with one another, and so he hit upon a plan which he thought might help to make them all better friends.
Between the three estates of the three brothers there was a fish-pond, plentifully stocked with fish. This pond belonged to the estate of Hirschberg, and Cuno, knowing how fond his brothers were of fishing, invited them to meet him there for a day’s sport.
It was a beautiful spring morning, and the three brothers arrived at the pond almost at the same moment. “Now it is strange,” cried Schalk, “that we should all arrive at the pond together. It was just striking seven o’clock as I rode out from Schalksberg.”
Cuno approaches the old womanTHE STORY OF THE FLORIN.“She stood leaning upon her staff waiting for Cuno.”
THE STORY OF THE FLORIN.“She stood leaning upon her staff waiting for Cuno.”
“I left Hohenzollern exactly at seven o’clock, also,” said Wolf.
“And I started at seven from Hirschberg,” said Cuno.
“Then,” said Schalk, “it is quite clear that the pond must be exactly in the centre of the three estates. It is a fine piece of water, too.”
“Yes,” replied Cuno, “and that is the reason why I have invited you here this morning. I know you are both fond of fishing, and although I also like to cast a line now and again, there is fish enough in the pond for all three of us, and room on the bank, too, even if we all wished to fish here together. And so, my brothers, I propose to make the pond common property and give both of you the same right to fish here as myself.”
“Indeed, our brother is mighty condescending,” said Schalk, mockingly. “And what shall we be expected to give in return, for, as everyone knows—death is the only thing to be had without payment.”
“And yet I give you this without any wish for payment,” replied Cuno. “All I want is to meet you here from time to time and have a little speech with you. Are we not all sons of the same father?”
“Well,” said Schalk, ungraciously, “I think there is nothing so stupid as to fish in company. One just drives the fish away from the other. But let us take it in turns; you, Cuno, fish Monday and Thursday, Wolf on Tuesday and Friday, and I on Wednesday and Saturday.”
“I will not agree to it,” said the gloomy Wolf. “I will accept nothing, neither will I share with any one. It was only fair, Cuno, to offer to divide the pond with us, for it really belongs to all three equally; but let us cast the dice and see who shall possess it in the future. If I am more fortunate than you, you can always ask leave of me to fish here.”
“I never gamble with dice,” replied Cuno, saddened by his brother’s ingratitude.
“Our brother is much too pious for that,” said Schalk, sneeringly. “But I have another plan which even the most pious hermit could not object to. Let us cast our lines and fish here until the clock strikes twelve, and whoever has caught the most fish by that time shall have the pond for his own.”
“Well,” said Cuno, “I am a foolish fellow to try for a prize that really belongs to myself, but just to show you I was in earnest in offering to share the pond I will accept the challenge.”
Cuno allowed his brothers to choose their own positions and the three began to fish. Then it seemed as though the fish knew who was the rightful owner, for they swarmed to take Cuno’s bait. No sooner did the line touch the water than twenty or thirty fish swam up, pushing each other out of the way in their anxiety to be caught. Before two hours had passed the ground all around Cuno was strewn with beautiful fish.
Then he ceased fishing and went to see what luck his brothers had had. Schalk had but three little fish and Wolf five, and both of them were looking verygrim, for they could see from where they stood the enormous quantity Cuno had caught.
As Cuno approached, Wolf broke up his rod in a rage and flung the pieces into the pond—“It is absurd,” said he, “to suppose that you, stupid Cuno, can have beaten us fairly. How is it possible for you to catch more fish in a couple of hours than I could catch in a year? It is only by means of witchcraft that you have succeeded.”
“You have hit the mark, brother,” said Schalk, “the old witch he keeps at Hirschberg has taught him how to enchant the creatures. We were foolish to fish with him. Before long he will turn wizard himself.”
“You wicked men,” answered Cuno angrily. “I have had an opportunity this morning to judge of your greed, your shamelessness, and your rude, rough manners. Go your ways and never come here again. It would be better for you if you were only half so good and pious as the poor old woman you have called a witch.”
“No, a real witch she is not,” said Schalk, mockingly, “for if she were she would prophesy more correctly than she has done. Did she not tell my father that a great part of his inheritance would be sold for a florin? Now at his death he owned all the land within sight of Hohenzollern, and it is not likely that it will ever dwindle away so that it will be worth no more than a florin. She is a foolish old woman and you are just stupid Cuno.”
Schalk made off as fast as he could when he hadfinished speaking, for he was afraid of his brother’s strong arm, and Wolf followed him, in a worse temper than his surly father had ever been.
Cuno took his brothers’ cruel behaviour so much to heart that he fell ill, and had it not been for the ministrations of Father Joseph and the healing drinks the old woman prepared he must have died.
When his brothers heard that he lay at the point of death they gave a banquet, and when they were flushed with wine they made a compact that whoever first heard of Cuno’s death should fire the cannons from his castle to tell his brother the good news. And the one who fired first was to have the best cask of wine in Cuno’s cellar.
From this time Wolf kept a servant constantly in the neighbourhood of Hirschberg, and Schalk bribed one of Cuno’s servants to let him know the moment his master was dead.
But this servant had more affection for his good, kind master than for the wicked Schalk, and one day he asked the old woman if there were indeed no chance of his master’s recovery, and on her telling him that Cuno was very much better he expressed his joy and told her of the plan the brothers had made.
The old woman was very angry, and told Cuno, who, however, would not believe such unnatural conduct, and so the old woman urged him to make a trial and pretend he was dead, and then if the cannons were fired they would, of course, hear them.
So Count Cuno sent for the servant his brotherhad bribed, and bade him ride in haste and tell Schalk that he, Cuno, was at the point of death.
As the servant rode out of the gateway, Wolf’s spy stopped him and enquired whither he rode in such hot haste.
“Alas!” said the man, “my poor master is at the point of death. It is said he cannot live through the night.”
“Indeed!” cried the man and ran to saddle his horse and in a very short space of time he was riding furiously towards Hohenzollern. Such was his speed that, on reaching the gates, his horse fell and he had only time to say—“Count Cuno is dying,” before he became unconscious.
The servant whispers in the old woman's earHe told her of the plan the brothers had made.(P.200.)
He told her of the plan the brothers had made.(P.200.)
Immediately afterwards the cannons of Hohenzollern thundered forth and Wolf and his mother made merry, and congratulated one another on thebig cask of wine they would win from Cuno’s cellar. They reckoned on the inheritance of the fine castle, the fish pond, and the beautiful jewels. And all the time the cannons sounded, each shot being followed by a wonderful echo, or what at first they took to be one, for they speedily discovered it was the sound of shot being fired from Schalksberg.
“Schalk must have had a spy at Hirschberg too,” Wolf said to his mother with a laugh. “Well, well, we shall have to share the wine as well as the rest of the inheritance.”
With that he mounted his horse, for he guessed that Schalk would try to be before him and pocket some of Cuno’s valuables before he arrived. But when he reached the fish-pond the two brothers met, and each blushed with shame, for each knew he had tried to be before his brother, and cheat him of part of the inheritance.
They rode along together and never mentioned Cuno, but discussed how they should settle affairs in the future, and how they should decide which of them should own Hirschberg.
But when they had crossed the drawbridge and entered the courtyard they saw their brother looking out of the window, quite hale and hearty. But his eyes flashed with wrath as he glanced at his two brothers.
They were very much afraid at first, for they thought it must be Cuno’s ghost; but as soon as they discovered he was alive and well, Wolf said sheepishly, “Why, I thought you were dead, brother!”
Schalk said very little, but if looks could have killed, Cuno would have had but a short time to live.
Then Cuno cried in a voice of thunder: “From this time I renounce all relationship between us. I heard the firing of cannons from your two castles and understood very well how you were making merry over my death. I have five field-pieces here at Hirschberg and I have had them loaded, and unless you make haste to get beyond range of the bullets you shall judge what sort of marksmen we have here at Hirschberg.”
They did not need a second warning, for they saw he meant what he said, and so they set spurs to their horses and raced down the hill. Cuno fired a cannon ball over their heads, not meaning to harm them, but merely to give them a good fright.
On their way down they began to quarrel as to who was to blame, both declaring he had fired his cannon solely because he had heard his brother firing. So bitter were they that when at length they parted company each vowed he hated and detested his brother worse even than Cuno.
Soon afterwards Cuno made his will, but he told no one what was in it. The old woman plagued her favourite sorely to tell her if he had left anything to his brothers, but he would not, and in the end she never knew, for she died the following year. All her pills and potions could not help her then, for she was ninety-eight years old, and the disease she died of was “old age,” which the cleverest doctor in the world cannot cure.
Count Cuno laid her to rest with every mark ofrespect and sorrow. It was not long before the old chaplain also left him, and then he became a very lonely man. But his loneliness was not for long, for Cuno, the good, died in his twenty-eighth year. Some said he was poisoned by his brothers, but whether it were so or no, no one ever really knew.
Again the country resounded with the roar of cannons, twenty-five rounds being fired from the castles of Zollern and Schalksberg.
“Well, there is no mistake this time,” said Schalk, as he met his brother Wolf on the road.
“No, indeed,” answered Wolf, “and if he were to rise and glare at us from the window as he did before, I have a pistol with me, ready charged, that will soon teach him to hold his peace.”
As they rode up the castle hill a rider and his retinue joined them. Neither of the brothers knew him, but supposed he must be a friend of Cuno’s who had come to his funeral, so they began to praise the dead man, lamented his early death, and Schalk even shed a few crocodile tears. But the knight answered never a word, only rode silently up the hill-side.
When the brothers dismounted, Wolf called for wine—“and of the best, Master Cellarman,” he added—“for now we are going to enjoy ourselves.”
He went up the stairs and entered the great hall, followed closely by the silent knight, who, when the twins had seated themselves at the table, drew a silver coin from his vest pocket, and, flinging it on the table between them, cried: “There is your inheritance,you will find it correct, the exact amount being a florin.”
The brothers looked surprised, laughed uneasily, and asked him what he meant.
The knight drew forth a parchment, with numerous seals attached, and began to read out what Cuno had set down there. Every act of enmity they had shown him during his lifetime was chronicled there, and then came an order that his estates and all that he possessed, with the exception of his mother’s jewels, were to be sold to the State of Würtemberg for the sum of one florin. The jewels, however, were to be sold, and the money be used to endow a house for the poor in the little town of Balingen.
The brothers laughed no longer; but gnashed their teeth with rage, for they knew they could not wrest their inheritance from Würtemberg; they had lost for ever the beautiful castle and all the estates belonging to it, all they were to inherit was a paltry florin.
Wolf slipped it into his pocket and he and Schalk stalked from the castle without so much as a word to the Commissioner of Würtemberg. They rode home, each to his own castle, but on the following morning Wolf rode over to Schalksberg and suggested they should go to the little town of Balingen which had gone to Würtemberg with the rest of the estates, and, just to show the folks they did not care, spend their inheritance on a quart of wine in which to drink each other’s healths. So they rode together to the inn at Balingen, called for a quart of red wine, and drank to each other.
When it was finished they called for the landlord, and Wolf flung the florin upon the table, but the landlord shook his head and told them that early that morning a messenger had come from Würtemberg and had paraded the town, with beat of drum, and proclaimed that the State had ordered all florin pieces to be called in and the use of them discontinued—“and therefore,” said the landlord, “I must ask you to pay me in a different coin.”
The brothers looked at each other and turned pale. Neither of them had any other money with him and so they were obliged to owe the landlord for the quart of wine.
They went on their way silently, for they did not feel in the mood for conversation, but when they came to the cross roads, where the way to the right led to Hohenzollern and that to the left to Schalksberg, Schalk said: “Well, our inheritance, it seems, was not worth a florin, moreover, the wine we thought to purchase with it was bad!”
“Yes,” replied Wolf thoughtfully, “and the old woman’s prediction has come true, for did she not say ‘We shall see some day if your inheritance be worth so much as a florin’? We have not been able to pay for a quart of wine with ours.”
Then they parted company and rode back to their castles, angry with themselves and the whole world.