“At midday yesterday I had thirty thalers, and Ebearhard had twenty-five. While you were all sleeping on the grass, after our meal at Breckenheim, Roland asked us for the money.”
“You surely were not such idiots as to give it to him?”
“He was our commander, and we both considered it right to do what he asked of us.”
“He said,” put in Ebearhard, “that your suggestion about a finance committee was a good one, and that he had determined to be that committee. He asked us if any of you had money, but I told him I thought it was all spent, which probably accounts for his restricting the application to us two.”
“Then we are here in an unknown wilderness, twenty men, hungry, and without a florin amongst us,” wailed Kurzbold, and the comments of those behind him were painful to hear.
“I am glad that at last you thoroughly appreciate our situation, and I hope that in addition you realize it has been brought about not through any fault of Roland’s, who gave in to your whims and childishness until you came to the point of murder and robbery. Therefore blame yourselves and not him. You now know as much of our position as I do, so make up your minds about the next step, and inform me what conclusion you come to.”
“You’re a mighty courageous leader,” cried Kurzbold scornfully, and with this the hungry ones retired some distance into the grove, from whence echoes of an angry debate came to the two men who sat by the margin of the stream. After a time they strode forward again. Once more Kurzbold was the spokesman.
“We have determined to return to Frankfort.”
“Very good.”
“I suppose you remember enough of the way to lead us at least as far as Wiesbaden. Beyond that point we can look to ourselves.”