Von Plauen soon found again a swarm of acquaintance, and again played over his old tricks. One of his acquaintances received from his native town, which was somewhere not very far distant, a large and most famous cheese, and a hamper of good wine. The others soon got wind of it, and wanted to persuade him to make a merriment over these things. But he assured them that he could not touch a single thing of them, as he expected an immediate visit from his family. His father, he said, had written him that he yet hoped to eat of the cheese with him, and to drink a glass of the wine with him; and on that account he should leave every thing untouched till they arrived. They pressed him no farther, but one day at noon, as the lawless set knew that he was fast at his lecture in the college, they rushed into his chamber, drank the wine, and filled the bottles with water; and the cheese they scooped so skilfully out from beneath, that nothing but the outward rind remained standing. They set it again in the dish so that nothing was to be seen. It may be imagined what was the poor fellow's dismay as he set the cheese before his newly-arrived relations, and saw it, at the first cut, fall into mere fragments of peel; and what a face the old man made as he came to taste of that flat water instead of his famous Rhine-wine. Soon afterwards, the student thus treated, missed a sum of money, of some three hundred gulden, which had been remitted him in order to defray the expenses contingent on the taking of his doctoral examination. Von Plauen, who had spent the night with him shortly before the theft was discovered, fell under strong suspicion, more especially, as, at the same time, he was accused of forging bills of exchange. He was thrown into the university prison, and his examination begun. But he did not await his sentence. One evening, as he knew that the fat beadle to whom the care of the prison was entrusted, remained alone in the house, he tore the lock from the door with his hands and hastened down into the beadle's room. The beadle had the keys belonging to the different rooms in the house, just then in his hand,--"How came you here, Herr von Plauen?" demanded he. The prisoner seized a knife that lay on the table, and warned him that if he did not deliver up to him the keys, he would stick the knife into his fat paunch. The terrified man instantly surrendered the keys; the prisoner shut him in his own room, secured him, and escaped from the house. He hastened over the bridge. There he threw himself over the gate, which then was closed every evening; but he stepped up to the window of the gatekeeper, knocked, and laid down a kreutzer, saying, "I will cheat no man of his money."