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.”