“They have disgraced their swords,” he said, “which now by right belong to the Margrave Hermann von Katznellenbogenstahleck. Put them ashore, lieutenant.”
It was broad daylight, and the men had all come up from the cabin, standing in a silent group at the stern. Kurzbold, on the bank, foaming at the mouth with fury, shook his fist at them, roaring:
“Cowards! Pigs! Dolts! Asses! Poltroons!”
The men made no reply, but Ebearhard’s hearty laugh rang through the forest.
“You have given us your titles, Kurzbold,” he cried. “Send us your address whenever you get one!”
“Captain,” said Roland, “cast off. Cross to this side of that island, and tie up there for the day. Set a man on watch, relieving the sentinel every two hours. We have spent an exciting night, and will sleep till evening.”
“Your honor, may I first stow away these bales, and dispose of the battle-axes, spears, and broadswords, so to clear the deck?”
“You may do that, captain, at sunset. As for the bales, they make a very comfortable couch upon which I intend to rest.”