“Alas,” said Roland, with a sigh, “I confess myself in agreement with him so far as your taking the veil is concerned. Still, imprisonment seems an unduly harsh alternative.”
The girl’s seriousness fled, and she smiled at him.
“As you have had some experience of my obstinacy, and proposed an even harsher remedy than that—”
“Ah, you forget,” interrupted Roland, “that I apologized for my lack of manners. I hope during our journey to Nonnenwerth I may earn complete forgiveness.”
“Oh, you are forgiven already, which is magnanimous of me, when you recollect that the fault was wholly my own. I will join you in the courtyard at once if I may.”
“Very well. I shall be down there after I have given final instructions to my men.”
Roland arrived at the north window, and saw that the flotilla had already departed. He could discern Ebearhard standing with his hand on the prow of the remaining boat, so pulled up the rope, untied it from the ring to which it was fastened, and threw it down to his lieutenant.
“A rope is always useful,” he whispered, “and we will puzzle the good Pfalzgraf regarding our exit.”
In the courtyard he found the three women awaiting him. Quietly he drew back the heavy bolts, and undid the stout chains. Holding the door slightly ajar, he peered out at the scene on the landing, brightly illuminated by numerous torches which the servants held aloft.
The men-at-arms were enjoying themselves hugely, and the great heap of bales already on the rocks showed that they resolved not to leave even one package on the barge. The fact that they stood in the light prevented their seeing the exit of the quartette from the Castle, even had any been on the outlook.