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 muddled with drink, and whose conduct was saturated with conspiracy against him?  They had wine enough on board to continue their orgy, and he was quite unable to prevent their carouse.  With a deep sigh he realized that he would be compelled to forego Furstenberg, and thus leave behind him a virgin citadel, which he knew was bad tactics from a military point of view.

During his meditations his men were coming up from the fuming cabin into the fresh air and the sunlight.  They appeared by twos and threes, yawning and rubbing their eyes, but no one ventured to interrupt the leader as, with bent head, he paced back and forth on the deck.  The men, indeed, seemed exceedingly subdued.  They passed with almost overdone nonchalance from the boat to the island, and sauntered towards its lower end, from which, in the clear morning air, the grim fortress of Furstenberg could be plainly discerned diagonally across the river.  It was Ebearhard who broke in upon Roland’s reverie.

“Our friends appear very quiet this morning, but I observe they have all happened to coincide upon the northern part of the island as a rendezvous for their before-breakfast walk.  I surmise they are holding a formal meeting of the guild, but neither Greusel nor I have been invited, so I suppose that after last night’s display we two are no longer considered their brethren.  This meekness on their part seems to me more dangerous than last night’s flurry.  I think they will demand from you a knowledge of what has been done with the gold.  Have you decided upon your answer?”