Knowing the perils ahead of us, I engaged two stout men-at-arms, and late in February we started for Basel as bodyguard to good Master Franz.  Think of the heir of Hapsburg marching in the train of a Swiss merchant!  Max dared not think of it; he was utterly humiliated!

Our first good fortune at Muhldorf he looked on as the deepest degradation a man might endure, but he could not starve, and he would not beg.  Not once did he even think of returning to Styria, and, in truth, he could not have done so had he wished; our bridges were burned behind us; our money was spent.

By the time we had finished half our journey to Basel, Max liked the life we were leading, and learned to love personal liberty, of which he had known so little.  Now he could actually do what he wished.  He could even slap a man on the back and call him “comrade.”  Of course, if the process were reversed,—­if any one slapped Max on the back,—­well, dignity is tender and not to be slapped.  On several occasions Max got himself into trouble by resenting familiarities, and his difficulties at times were ludicrous.  Once a fist fight occurred.  The heir of Hapsburg was actually compelled to fight with his fists.  He thrashed the poor fellow most terribly, and I believe would have killed him had not I stayed his hand.  Another time a pretty girl at Augsburg became familiar with him, and Max checked her peremptorily.  When he grew angry, she laughed, and saucily held up her lips for a kiss.  Max looked at me in half-amused wonder.

“Take it, Max; there is no harm in it,” I suggested.

Max found it so, and immediately wanted more, but the girl said too many would not be good for him.  She promised others later on, if he were very, very good.  Thus Max was conquered by a kiss at the wayside.

The girl was very pretty, Max was very good, and she helped me wonderfully in reducing his superfluous dignity.  Her name was Gertrude, and we spoke of her afterward as “Gertrude the Conqueror.”  She was a most enticing little individual, and Max learned that persons of low degree really may be interesting.  That was his first great lesson.  I had some trouble after leaving Augsburg to keep him from taking too many lessons of the same sort.

Our contract with Franz provided that we should receive no compensation until after his merchandise had safely reached Basel, but then our remuneration was to be large.  Max had no doubt as to the safe arrival of the caravan at Basel, and he rejoiced at the prospect.  I tried to reduce the rosy hue of his dreams, but failed.  I suggested that we might have fighting ahead of us harder than any we had known, though we had given and taken some rough knocks on two of our expeditions.  Max laughed and longed for the fray; he was beginning to live.  The fray came quickly enough after we reached the Black Forest, and the fight was sufficiently warm to suit even enthusiastic Max.  He and I were wounded; one of our men-at-arms was killed, and Franz’s life was saved only by an heroic feat of arms on Max’s part.  The robbers were driven off; we spent a fortnight in a near-by monastery, that our wounds might heal, and again started for Basel.