Greusel made no comment upon this remark, but the advice commended itself to him, for he followed it.
Some time after they had finished breakfast, the unsuccessful company returned by twos and threes. Apparently they had not wandered so far as the waterfall, for no one said anything of the amazing view of the Rhine. Indeed, it was plain that they considered themselves involved in a boundless wilderness, and were too perplexed to suggest a way out. After a storm of malediction over the breakfastless state of things, and a good deal of quarreling among themselves anent who had been most greedy the night before, they now turned their attention to the silent men who were watching them.
“Where’s Roland?” they demanded.
“I don’t know,” replied Greusel.
“Didn’t he tell you where he was going?”
“We have not seen him this morning,” explained Ebearhard gently. “He seems to have disappeared in the night. Perhaps he fell into the stream. Perhaps, on the other hand, he has deliberately deserted us. He gave us no hint of his intentions last night, and we are as ignorant as yourselves regarding his whereabouts.”
“This is outrageous!” cried Kurzbold. “It is the duty of a leader to provide for his following.”
“Yes; if the following follows.”
“We have followed,” said Kurzbold indignantly, “and have been led into this desert, not in the least knowing where in Heaven’s name we are. And now to be left like this, breakfastless, thirsty—” Here Kurzbold’s language failed him, and he drew the back of his hand across parched lips.
“When you remember, gentlemen,” continued Ebearhard, in accents of honey, “that your last dealings with your leader took place with eighteen swords drawn; when you recollect that you expressed your determination to rob him, and when you call to mind that you brave eighteen threatened him with personal violence if he resisted this brigandage on your part, I cannot understand why you should be surprised at his withdrawal from your fellowship.”