“You scoundrel!” he cried to Roland, “those lockers are full of empty bags.”

“I know that,” replied Roland, quietly.  “The money is in safe keeping, and will be honestly divided at the conclusion of this expedition.”

“You thief!  You robber!” shouted Kurzbold, flourishing his weapon.

“Quite accurate,” replied Roland, unperturbed.  “I was once called a Prince of Thieves when I did not deserve the title.  Now I have earned it.”

“You have earned the penalty of thieving, and we propose to throw you into the Rhine.”

“Not, I trust, before you learn where the money is deposited.”

Drunk as they were, this consideration staggered them, but Kurzbold was mad with rage and wine.

“Come on, you poltroons!” he shouted.  “There are only three of them.”

“Draw your swords, gentlemen,” whispered Roland, flashing his own blade in the moonlight.

Greusel and Ebearhard obeyed his command.

XII

THE LAUGHING RED MARGRAVE OF FURSTENBERG

Ebearhard laughed, and took two steps forward.  Whenever affairs became serious, one could always depend on a laugh from Ebearhard.

“Excuse me, Commander,” he said, “but you placed Greusel and me in charge of this pious and sober party; therefore I, being the least of your officers, must stand the first brunt of our failure to keep these lambs peaceable for the night.  Greusel, stand behind me, and in front of the Commander.  I, being reasonably sober, believe I can cut down six of the innocents before they finish with me.  You will attend to the next six, leaving exactly half a dozen for Roland to eliminate in his own fashion.  Now, Herr Conrad Kurzbold, come on.”

“We have no quarrel with you,” said Kurzbold.  “Stand aside.”

“But I force a quarrel upon you, undisciplined pig.  Defend yourself, for, by the Three Kings, I am going to tap your walking wine-barrel!”

Kurzbold, 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.”