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.
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