the attack on Furstenberg, I shall do what these two men advise, even
although I myself believe in a contrary course. Thus you see, Herr
Kurzbold, that my admitted dislike of you shall not come into play at
all."
"That is quite satisfactory," said Kurzbold. "Will you tie up against
the farther shore until your decision is rendered?"
"With pleasure," replied Roland; and accordingly the raiders tumbled
impetuously on board the barge, whereupon the sailors bent to their long
oars, and quickly reached the western bank, at a picturesque spot out of
sight of any castle, where the trees came down the mountain-side to the
water's edge. Here the sailors, springing ashore, tied their stout ropes
to the tree-trunks, and the great barge lay broadside on to the land,
with her nose pointing down the stream.
"You see," said Roland to his lieutenants, "without giving way in the
least I allow you two the decision, and so I take it Furstenberg or
ourselves will escape disaster on this occasion."
"Aside from all other considerations," replied the cautious Greusel, "I
think it good diplomacy on this occasion to agree with the men, since
they have stated their case so deferentially. They are improving,
Commander."
"It really looks like it," he agreed. "You and Ebearhard had better go
aft, and counsel them to begin the conference at once, for if we are to
attack we must do so before darkness sets in. I'll remain here as usual
at the prow."
Some of the men were strolling about the deck, but the majority remained
in the cabin, down whose steps the lieutenants descended. Roland's
impatience increased with the waning of the light.
Suddenly a cry that was instantly smothered rose from the cabin, then a
shout:
"Treachery! Look out for yourself!"
Roland attempted to stride forward, but four men fell on him, pinioning
his arms to his side, preventing the drawing of his weapon. Kurzbold,
with half a dozen others, mounted on deck.
"Disarm him!" he commanded, and one of the men drew Roland's sword from
its sheath, flinging it along the deck to Kurzbold's feet. The others
now came up, bringing the two lieutenants, both gagged, with their arms
tied behind them. Roland ceased his struggles, which he knew to be
fruitless.
"We wish an amicable settlement of this matter," said Kurzbold,
addressing the lieutenants, "and regret being compelled to use measures
that may appear harsh. I do this only to prevent unnecessary bloodshed.
Earlier in the day," he continued, turning to Roland, "when we found all
appeals to you were vain, we unanimously deposed you from the
leadership, which is our right, and also our duty."
"Not under martial law," said Roland.
"I beg to point out that there was no talk of martial law before we left
Frankfort. It was not till later that we learned we had appointed an
unreasoning tyrant over us. We have deposed him, and I am elected in his
place, with John Gensbein as my lieutenant. We will keep you three here
until complete darkness sets in, then put you ashore unarmed. Bacharach,
on this side of the Rhine, is to be our next resting-place, and
doubtless so clever a man as you, Roland, may say that we choose
Bacharach because it is named for Bacchus, the god of drunkards.
Nevertheless, to show our good intentions towards you, we will remain
there all day to-morrow. You can easily reach Bacharach along the
hilltops before daybreak. We have written a charter of comradeship which
all have signed except yourselves. If at Bacharach you give us your word
to act faithfully under my leadership, we will reinstate you in the
guild, and return your swords. By way of recompense for this leniency,
we ask you to direct the captain to obey my commands as he has done
yours."
"Captain Blumenfels," said Roland to the honest sailor, who stood
looking on in amaze at this turn of affairs, "you are to wait here until
it is completely dark. See that no lights are burning to give warning to
those in Furstenberg; and, by the way," added Roland, turning to his
former company, "I advise you not to drink anything until you are well
past the Castle. If you sing the songs of the guild within earshot of
Furstenberg, you are like to sing on the other side of your mouths
before morning. Don't forget that Margrave Hermann von
Katznellenbogenstahleck is the chief hangman of Germany." Then once more
to the captain:
"As the Castle of Furstenberg stands high above the river, and well back
from it, you will be out of sight if you keep near this shore. However,
you can easily judge your distance, because the towers are visible even
in the darkness against the sky. No man on the ramparts of the Castle
can discern you down here on the black surface of the water, so long as
you do not carry a light."
"Roland, my deposed friend," said Kurzbold, "I fear you bear resentment,
for you are giving the captain orders instead of telling him to obey
mine."
"Kurzbold, you are mistaken. I resign command with great pleasure, and,
indeed, Greusel and Ebearhard will testify that I had already determined
to pass Furstenberg unseen. As my former lieutenants are disarmed,
surely the company, with eighteen swords, is not so frightened as to
keep them gagged and bound. 'Tis no wonder you wish to avoid the
Laughing Baron, if that is all the courage you possess."
Stung by these taunts, Kurzbold gruffly ordered his men to release their
prisoners, but when the gags were removed, and before the cords were
cut, he addressed the lieutenants:
"Do you give me your words not to make any further resistance, if I
permit you to remain unbound?"
"I give you my word on nothing, you mutinous dog!" cried Greusel; "and
if I did, how could you expect me to keep it after such an example of
treachery from you who pledged your faith, and then broke it? I shall
obey my Commander, and none other."
"I am your Commander," asserted Kurzbold.
"You are not," proclaimed Greusel.
Ebearhard laughed.
"No need to question me," he said. "I stand by my colleagues."
"Gag them again," ordered Kurzbold.
"No, no!" cried Roland. "We are quite helpless. Give your words,
gentlemen."
Gloomily Greusel obeyed, and merrily Ebearhard. Darkness was now
gathering, and when it fell completely the three men were put off into
the forest.
"You have not yet," said Kurzbold to Roland, "ordered the captain to
obey me. I do not object to that, but it will be the worse for him and
his men if they refuse to accept my instructions."
"Do you know this district, Captain Blumenfels?" asked Roland.
"Yes, mein Herr."
"Is there a path along the top that will lead us behind Furstenberg on
to Bacharach?"
"Yes, mein Herr, but it is a very rough track."
"Is it too far for you to guide us there, and return before the moon
rises?"
"Oh no, mein Herr, I can conduct you to the trail in half an hour if you
consent to climb lustily."
"Very good. Herr Kurzbold, if you are not impatient to be off, and will
permit the captain to direct us on our way, I will tell him to obey
you."
"How long before you can return, captain?" asked Kurzbold.
"I can be back well within the hour, mein Herr."
"You will obey me if the late Commander orders you to do so?"
"Yes, mein Herr."
"Captain," said Roland, "I inform you in the hearing of these men that
Herr Kurzbold occupies my place, and is to be obeyed by you until I
resume command."
Kurzbold laughed.
"You mean until you are re-elected to membership in the guild, for we do
not propose to make you commander again. Now, captain, to the hill, and
see that your return is not delayed."
The four men disappeared into the dark forest.
"Captain," said Roland, when they reached the track, "I have taken you
up here not that I needed your guidance, for I know this land as well as
you do. You will obey Kurzbold, of course, but if he tells you to make
for Lorch, allow your boat to drift, and do not get beyond the middle of
the river until opposite Furstenberg. There is a buoyed chain--"
"I know it well," interrupted the captain. "I have many times avoided
it, but twice became entangled with it, in spite of all my efforts, and
was robbed by the Laughing Baron."
"Very well; I intend you to be entrapped by that chain to-night. Offer
no resistance, and you will be safe enough. Do not attempt to help these
lads should they be set upon, and it will be hard luck if I am not in
command again before midnight. Keep close to this shore, but if they
order you into the middle of the river, or across it, dally, my good
Blumenfels, dally, until you are stopped by the chain for the third
time."
When the captain returned to his barge, he found Kurzbold pacing the
deck in a masterly manner, impatient to be off. For once the combatants,
with an effort, were refraining from drink.
"We will open a cask," said Kurzbold, "as soon as we have passed the
Schloss."
He ordered the captain to follow the shore as closely as was safe, and
take care that they did not come within sight of Furstenberg's tall,
round tower. All sat or reclined on the dark deck, saying no word as the
barge slid silently down the swift Rhine. Suddenly the speed of the boat
was checked so abruptly that one or two of the standing men were flung
off their feet. From up on the hillside there tolled out the deep note
of a bell. The barge swung round broadside on the current, and lay there
with the water rushing like hissing serpents along its side, the bell
pealing out a loud alarm that seemed to keep time with the shuddering of
the helpless boat.
"What's wrong, captain?" cried Kurzbold, getting on his feet again and
running aft.
"I fear, sir, 'tis an anchored chain."
"Can't you cut it?"
"That is impossible, mein Herr."
"Then get out your sweeps, and turn back. Where are we, do you think?"
"Under the battlements of Furstenberg Castle."
"Damnation! Put some speed into your men, and let us get away from
here."
The captain ordered his crew to hurry, but all their efforts could not
release the boat from the chain, against which it ground up and down
with a tearing noise, and even the un-nautical swordsmen saw that the
current was impelling it diagonally toward the shore, and all the while
the deep bell tolled on.
"What in the fiend's name is the meaning of that bell?" demanded
Kurzbold.
"It is the Castle bell, mein Herr," replied the captain.
Before Kurzbold could say anything more the air quivered with shout
after shout of laughter. Torches began to glisten among the trees, and
there was a clatter of horses' hoofs on the echoing rock. A more
magnificent sight was never before presented to the startled eyes of so
unappreciative a crowd. Along the zigzag road, and among the trees,
spluttered the torches, each with a trail of sparks like the tail of a
comet. The bearers were rushing headlong down the slope, for woe to the
man who did not arrive at the water's edge sooner than his master.
The torchlight gleamed on flashing swords and glittering points of
spears, but chief sight of all was the Margrave Hermann von
Katznellenbogenstahleck, a giant in stature, mounted on a magnificent
stallion, as black as the night, and of a size that corresponded with
its prodigious rider. The Margrave's long beard and flowing hair were
red; scarlet, one may say, but perhaps that was the fiery reflection
from the torches. Servants, scullions, stablemen carried the lights; the
men-at-arms had no encumbrance but their weapons, and the business-like
way in which they lined up along the shore was a study in discipline,
and a terror to any one unused to war. Above all the din and clash of
arms rang the hearty, stentorian laughter of the Red Margrave actually
echoing back in gusts of fiendish merriment from the hills on the other
side of the Rhine.
Now the boat's nose came dully against the ledge of rock, to whose
surface the swaying chain rose dripping from the water, sparkling like a
jointed snake under the torchlight.
"God save us all!" cried the Margrave, "what rare show have we here? By
my sainted patron, the Archbishop, merchants under arms! Whoever saw the
like? Ha! stout Captain Blumenfels, do I recognize you? Once more my
chain has caught you. This makes the third time, does it not,
Blumenfels?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"You may as well call me 'your Holiness' as 'your Majesty.' I'm
contented with my title, the 'Laughing Baron,' Haw-haw-haw-haw! And so
your merchants have taken to arms again? The lesson at the Lorely taught
them nothing! Are there any ropes aboard, captain?"
"Plenty, my lord."
"Then fling a coil ashore. Now, my tigers," he roared to his
men-at-arms, "hale me to land those damned shopkeepers."
With a clash of armor and weapons the brigands threw themselves on the
boat, and in less time than is taken to tell it, every man of the guild
was disarmed and flung ashore. Here another command of the Red Margrave
gave them the outlaw's knot, as he termed it, a most painful tying-up of
the body and the limbs until each victim was rigid as a red of iron.
They were flung face downwards in a row, and beaten black and blue with
cudgels, despite their screams of agony and appeals for mercy.
"Now turn them over on their backs," commanded the Margrave, and it was
done. The glare of the pitiless torches fell upon contorted faces. The
Baron turned his horse athwart the line of helpless men, and spurred
that animal over it from end to end, but the intelligent horse, more
merciful than its rider, stepped with great daintiness, despite its
unusual size, and never trod on one of the prostrate bodies. During what
followed, the Red Baron, shaking with laughter, marched his horse up and
down over the stricken men.
"Now, unload the boat, but do not injure any of the sailors! I hope to
see them often again. You cannot tell how we have missed you, captain.
What are you loaded with this time? Sound Frankfort cloth?"
"Yes, your Majesty--I mean, my lord."
"No, you mean my Holiness, for I expect to be an Archbishop yet, if all
goes well," and his laughter echoed across the Rhine. "Uplift your
hatches, Blumenfels, and tell your men to help fling the goods ashore."
Delicately paced the fearful horse over the prone men, snorting, perhaps
in sympathy, from his red nostrils, his jet-black coat a-quiver with the
excitement of the scene. The captain obeyed the Margrave with promptness
and celerity. The hatches were lifted, and his sailors, two and two,
flung on the ledge of rock the merchant's bales. The men-at-arms, who
proved to be men-of-all-work, had piled their weapons in a heap, and
were carrying the bales a few yards inland. Through it all the Baron
roared with laughter, and rode his horse along its living pavement,
turning now at this end and now at the other.
"Do not be impatient," he cried down to them, "'twill not take long to
strip the boat of every bale, then I shall hang you on these trees, and
send back your bodies in the barge, as a lesson to Frankfort. You must
return, captain," he cried, "for you cannot sell dead bodies to my liege
of Cologne."
As he spoke a ruddy flush spread over the Rhine, as if some one had
flashed a red lantern upon the waters. The glow died out upon the
instant.
"What!" thundered the Margrave, "is that the reflection of my beard, or
are Beelzebub and his fiends coming up from below for a portion of the
Frankfort cloth? I will share with good brother Satan, but with no one
else. Boil me if I ever saw a sight like that before! What was it,
captain?"
"I saw nothing unusual, my lord."
"There, there!" exclaimed the Margrave, and as he spoke it seemed that a
crimson film had fallen on the river, growing brighter and brighter.
"Oh, my lord," cried the captain, "the Castle is on fire!"
"Saints protect us!" shouted the Red Margrave, crossing himself, and
turning to the west, where now both hearing and sight indicated that a
furnace was roaring. The whole western sky was aglow, and although the
flames could not be seen for the intervening cliff, every one knew there
was no other dwelling that could cause such an illumination.
Spurring his horse, and calling his men to come on, the nobleman dashed
up the steep acclivity, and when the last man had departed, Roland,
followed by his two lieutenants, stepped from the forest to the right
down upon the rocky plateau.
XIII
"A SENTENCE; COME, PREPARE!"
"Captain," said Roland quietly, "bring your crew ashore, and fling these
bales on board again as quickly as you can."
An instant later the sailors were at work, undoing their former efforts.
"In mercy's name, Roland," wailed one of the stricken, "get a sword and
cut our bonds."
"All in good time," replied Roland. "The bales are more valuable to me
than you are, and we have two barrels of gold at the foot of the cliff
to bring in, if they haven't sunk in the Rhine. Greusel, do you and
Ebearhard take two of the crew, launch the small boat, and rescue the
barrels if you can find them."
"Mercy on us, Roland! Mercy!" moaned his former comrades.
"I have already wasted too much mercy upon you," he said. "If I rescue
you now, I shall be compelled to hang you in the morning as breakers of
law, so I may as well leave you where you are, and allow the Red
Margrave to save me the trouble. The loss of his castle will not make
him more compassionate, especially if he learns you were the cause of
it. You will then experience some refined tortures, I imagine; for, like
myself, he may think hanging too good for you. I should never have fired
his castle had it not been for your rebellion."
The men on the ground groaned but made no further appeal. Some of them
were far-seeing enough to realize that an important change had come over
the young man they thought so well known to them, who stood there with
an air of indifference, throwing out a suggestion now and then for the
more effective handling of the bales; suggestions carrying an impalpable
force of authority that caused them to be very promptly obeyed. They did
not know that this person whom they had regarded as one of themselves,
the youngest at that, treating him accordingly, had but a day or two
before received a tremendous assurance, which would have turned the head
of almost any individual in the realm, old or young; the assurance that
he was to be supreme ruler over millions of creatures like themselves; a
ruler whose lightest word might carry their extinction with it.
Yet such is the strange littleness of human nature that, although this
potent knowledge had been gradually exercising its effect on Roland's
character, it was not the rebellion of the eighteen or their mutinous
words that now made him hard as granite towards them. It was the trivial
fact that four of them had dared to manhandle him; had made a personal
assault upon him; had pinioned his helpless arms, and flung his sword,
that insignia of honor, to the feet of Kurzbold, leader of the revolt.
The Lord's Anointed, he was coming to consider himself, although not yet
had the sacred ointment been placed upon his head. A temporal Emperor
and a vice-regent of Heaven upon earth, his hand was destined to hold
the invisible hilt of the Almighty's sword of vengeance. The words "I
will repay" were to reach their fulfillment through his action.
Notwithstanding his youth, or perhaps because of it, he was animated by
deep religious feeling, and this, rather than ambition, explained the
celerity with which he agreed to the proposals of the Archbishops.
The personage the prisoners saw standing on the rock-ledge of
Furstenberg was vastly different from the young man who, a comrade of
comrades, had departed from Frankfort in their company. They beheld him
plainly enough, for there was now no need of torches along the
foreshore; the night was crimson in its brilliancy, and down the hill
came a continuous roar, like that of the Rhine Fall seventy leagues
away.
Into this red glare the small boat and its four occupants entered, and
Roland saw with a smile that two well-filled casks formed its freight.
The bales were now aboard the barge again, and the Commander ordered the
crew to help the quartette in the small boat with the lifting of the
heavy barrels. Greusel and Ebearhard clambered over the side, and came
thus to the ledge where Roland stood, as the crew rolled the barrels
down into the cabin.
"Lieutenants," said the Commander, "select two stout battle-axes from
that heap. Follow the chain up the hill until you reach that point where
it is attached to the thick rope. Cut the rope with your axes, and draw
down the chain with you, thus clearing a passage for the barge."
The two men chose battle-axes, then turned to their leader.
"Should we not get our men aboard," they said, "before the barge is
free?"
"These rebels are prisoners of the Red Margrave. They belong to him, and
not to me. Where they are, there they remain."
The lieutenants, with one impulse, advanced to their Commander, who
frowned as they did so. A cry of despair went up from the pinioned men,
but Kurzbold shouted:
"Cut him down, Ebearhard, and then release us. In the name of the guild
I call on you to act! He is unarmed; cut him down! 'Tis foul murder to
desert us thus."
The cutting down could easily have been accomplished, for Roland stood
at their mercy, weaponless since the _émeute_ on the barge.
Notwithstanding the seriousness of the occasion, the optimistic
Ebearhard laughed, although every one else was grave enough.
"Thank you, Kurzbold, for your suggestion. We have come forward, not to
use force, but to try persuasion. Roland, you cannot desert to death the
men whom you conducted out of Frankfort."
"Why can I not?"
"I should have said a moment ago that you will not, but now I say you
cannot. Kurzbold has just shown what an irreclaimable beast he is, and
on that account, because birth, or training, or something has made you
one of different caliber, you cannot thus desert him to the reprisal of
that red fiend up the hill."
"If I save him now, 'twill be but to hang him an hour later. I am no
hangman, while the Margrave is. I prefer that he should attend to my
executions."
Again Ebearhard laughed.
"'Tis no use, Roland, pretending abandonment, for you will not abandon.
I thoroughly favor choking the life out of Kurzbold, and one or two of
the others, and will myself volunteer for the office of headsman,
carrying, as I do, the ax, but let everything be done decently and in
order, that a dignified execution may follow on a fair trial."
"Commander," shouted the captain from the deck of the barge, "make
haste, I beg of you. The rope connecting with the Castle has been burnt,
and the chain is dragging free. The current is swift, and this barge
heavy. We shall be away within the minute."
"Get your crew ashore on the instant," cried Roland, "and fling me these
despicable burdens aboard. A man at the head, another at the heels, and
toss each into the barge. Is there time, captain, to take this heap of
cutlery with us as trophies of the fray?"
"Yes," replied the captain, "if we are quick about it."
The howling human packages were hurled from ledge to barge; the strong,
unerring sailors, accustomed to the task, heaved no man into the water.
Others as speedily fell upon the heap of weapons, and threw them,
clattering, on the deck. All then leaped aboard, and Roland, motioning
his lieutenants to precede him, was the last to climb over the prow.
The chain came down over the stones with a clattering run, and fell with
a great splash into the river. The barge, now clear, swung with the
current stern foremost; the sailors got to their oars, and gradually
drew their craft away from the shore. A little farther from the landing,
those on deck, looking upstream, enjoyed an uninterrupted view of the
magnificent conflagration. The huge stone Castle seemed to glow white
hot. The roof had fallen in, and a seething furnace reddened the
midnight sky. Like a flaming torch the great tower roared to the
heavens. The whole hilltop resembled the crater of an active volcano.
Timber floors and wooden partitions, long seasoned, proved excellent
material for the incendiaries, and even the stones were crumbling away,
falling into the gulf of fire, sending up a dazzling eruption of sparks,
as section after section tumbled into this earthly Hades.