old, however, retreating with more haste than caution, one or two
behind him were sent sprawling, and the half-dozen which were Roland's
portion tumbled over one another down the steep ladder into the cabin.
Ebearhard laughed again when the last man disappeared.
"I think," he said to Roland, "that you will meet no further trouble
from our friends. They evidently broke open the lockers, alarmed because
Greusel and I asked for a postponement of the counting, probably
intending to make the division without our assistance."
"Have you hidden the money?" asked Greusel.
"Not exactly," replied Roland; "but, in case anything should happen to
me, I will tell you what I have done with it."
When he finished his recital, he added:
"I will give each of you a letter to Herr Goebel, identifying you. He is
entitled to four thousand five hundred thalers of the money. The balance
you will divide among those of us who survive."
Roland slept on deck, wrapped in his cloak. His two lieutenants took
turn in keeping watch, but nothing except snores came up from the cabin.
The mutineers were not examples of early rising next morning. The sun
gave promise of another warm day, and Roland walked up and down the
deck, anxiety printed on his brow. He had made up his mind to knock at
the door of the Laughing Baron, a giant in stature, reported to be the
most ingenious, most cruel, and bravest of all the robber noblemen of
the Rhine, whose Castle was notoriously the hardest nut to crack along
the banks of that famous river. For several reasons it would not be wise
to linger much longer in the neighborhood of Lorch. The three castles
they had entered the day before were still visible on the western bank.
News of the raid would undoubtedly travel to Furstenberg, also within
sight down the river, and thus the hilarious Margrave would be put on
his guard, overjoyed at the opportunity of trapping the moral marauders.
Furstenberg was also a fief of Cologne, and any molestation of it would
involve the meddler, if identified, in complications with the Church and
the Archbishop.
It was necessary, therefore, to move with caution, and to retreat, if
possible, unobserved. These difficulties alone were enough to give pause
to the most intrepid, but Roland was further handicapped by his own
following. How could he hope to accomplish any subtle movement requiring
silence, prompt obedience, and great alertness, supported by men whose
brains were muddle
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