“No. If they present reasons that convince Greusel and Ebearhard against the attack on Furstenberg, I shall do what these two men advise, even although I myself believe in a contrary course. Thus you see, Herr Kurzbold, that my admitted dislike of you shall not come into play at all.”
“That is quite satisfactory,” said Kurzbold. “Will you tie up against the farther shore until your decision is rendered?”
“With pleasure,” replied Roland; and accordingly the raiders tumbled impetuously on board the barge, whereupon the sailors bent to their long oars, and quickly reached the western bank, at a picturesque spot out of sight of any castle, where the trees came down the mountain-side to the water’s edge. Here the sailors, springing ashore, tied their stout ropes to the tree-trunks, and the great barge lay broadside on to the land, with her nose pointing down the stream.
“You see,” said Roland to his lieutenants, “without giving way in the least I allow you two the decision, and so I take it Furstenberg or ourselves will escape disaster on this occasion.”
“Aside from all other considerations,” replied the cautious Greusel, “I think it good diplomacy on this occasion to agree with the men, since they have stated their case so deferentially. They are improving, Commander.”
“It really looks like it,” he agreed. “You and Ebearhard had better go aft, and counsel them to begin the conference at once, for if we are to attack we must do so before darkness sets in. I’ll remain here as usual at the prow.”
Some of the men were strolling about the deck, but the majority remained in the cabin, down whose steps the lieutenants descended. Roland’s impatience increased with the waning of the light.
Suddenly a cry that was instantly smothered rose from the cabin, then a shout:
“Treachery! Look out for yourself!”
Roland attempted to stride forward, but four men fell on him, pinioning his arms to his side, preventing the drawing of his weapon. Kurzbold, with half a dozen others, mounted on deck.