“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.”