The Sword Maker - Robert Barr (top 10 non fiction books of all time txt) 📗

the other."

"My dear commander, we were all against you last night, when you spoke of hanging, and even when you only went as far as expulsion."

"Yes, I suppose you were, and the circumstances being such as you state, doubtless you were justified. I am to command, then, a regiment that may obey or not, according to the whim of the moment; a cheering prospect, and one I had not anticipated. When I received the promise of twenty men that they would carry out faithfully whatever I undertook on their behalf, I expected them to stand by it."

"I think you are unjust, Roland. No one has refused, and probably no one will. If any one disobeys a command, then you can act as seems best to you, but I wish you fully to realize the weakness of your status should it come to drastic punishment."

"Quite so, quite so," said Roland curtly. He clasped his hands behind his back, and without further words paced up and down along the bank of the river, head bowed in thought.

Ebearhard was the next arrival, and he greeted Greusel cordially, then one after another various members of the company came upon the scene. To the new-comers Roland made no salutation, but continued his meditating walk.

At last the bell in the tower pealed forth nine slow, sonorous strokes, and Roland raised his head, ceasing his perambulations. Greusel looked anxiously at him as he came forward to the group, but his countenance gave no indication whether or not he had determined to abandon the expedition.

"Are we all here?" asked Roland.

"No," was the reply; "Kurzbold, Eiselbert, Rasselstein, and Gensbein have not arrived yet."

"Then we will wait for them a few moments longer," said the commander, with no trace of resentment at their unpunctuality, and from this Greusel assumed that he not only intended to go on, but had taken to heart the warning given him. Ebearhard and a comrade walked up the road rapidly toward Frankfort, hoping for some sign of the laggards, and Roland resumed his stroll beside the river. At last Ebearhard and his companion returned, and the former approached Roland.

"I see nothing of those four," he said. "What do you propose to do?"

Roland smiled.

"I think sixteen good men, all of a mind, will accomplish quite as much as twenty who are divided in purpose. I propose, therefore, to go on, unless you consider the missing four necessary, in which case we can do nothing but wait."

"I am in favor of going forward," said Ebearhard; then turning to the rest, who had gathered themselves around their captain, he appealed to them. All approved of immediate action.

"Do you intend to follow the river road, Captain?" asked Ebearhard.

"Yes, for two or three leagues, but after that we strike across the country."

"Very well. We can proceed leisurely along the road, and our friends may overtake us if they have any desire to do so."

"Right!" said Roland. "Then let us set out."

The seventeen walked without any company formation through the village, then, approaching a wayside tavern, they were hailed by a loud shout from the drinkers in front of it. Kurzbold was the spokesman for the party of four, which he, with his comrades, made up.

"Come here and drink success to glory," he shouted. "Where have you lads been all the morning?"

"The rendezvous," said Roland sternly, "was at the Elector's tower."

"My rendezvous wasn't. I have been here for more than an hour," said Kurzbold. "I told you last night that when I arrived at Hochst I should be thirsty, and would try to mitigate the disadvantage at a tavern."

"Yes," said Ebearhard, with a laugh, "we can all see you have succeeded in removing the disadvantage."

"Oh, you mean I'm drunk, do you? I'll fight any man who says I'm drunk. It was a tremendous thirst caused by the dryness of my throat from last night, and the dust on the Frankfort road this morning. It takes a great deal of wine to overcome two thirsts. Come along, lads, and drink to the success of the journey. No hard feeling. Landlord, set out the wine here for seventeen people, and don't forget us four in addition."

The whole company strolled in under the trees that fronted the tavern, except Roland, who stood aloof.

"Here's a salute to you, Captain," cried Kurzbold. "I drink wine with you."

"Not till we return from a successful expedition," said Roland.

"Oh, nonsense!" hiccoughed Kurzbold. "Don't think that your office places you so high above us that it is _infra dig_. to drink with your comrades."

To this diatribe Roland made no reply, and the sixteen, seeing the attitude of their leader, hesitated to raise flagon to lip. The diplomatic Ebearhard seized a measure of wine and approached Roland.

"Drink with us, Commander," he said aloud; and then in a whisper, "Greusel and I think you should."

"Thank you, comrade," said Roland, taking the flagon from him. "And now, brethren, I give you a toast."

"Good, good, good!" cried Kurzbold, with drunken hilarity. "Here's to the success of the expedition. That's the toast, I make no doubt, eh, Captain?"

"The sentiment is included in the toast I shall offer you. Drink to the health of Joseph Greusel, whom I have this morning appointed my lieutenant. If we all conduct ourselves as honorably and capably as he, our project is bound to prosper."

Greusel, who was seated at a table, allowed his head to sink into his hands. Here was his advice scouted, and a direct challenge flung in the face of the company. He believed now that, after all, Roland had resolved to return to Frankfort, money or no money. If he intended to proceed to the Rhine, then even worse might happen, for it was plain he was bent on rule or ruin. Instantly the challenge was accepted. Kurzbold stood up, swaying uncertainly, compelled to maintain his upright position by grasping the top of the table at which he had been seated.

"Stop there, stop there!" he cried. "No man drinks to that toast just yet. Patience, patience! all things in their order. If we claim the power to elect our captain, by the cock-crowned Cross of the old bridge we have a right to name the lieutenant! This is a question for the companionship to decide, and a usurpation on the part of Roland."

"Sit down, you fool!" shouted Ebearhard savagely. "You're drunk. The Captain couldn't have made a better selection. What say you, comrades?"

A universal shout of "Aye!" greeted the question, and even Kurzbold's three comrades joined in it.

"And now, gentlemen, no more talk. Here's to the health of the new lieutenant, Joseph Greusel."

The toast was drunk enthusiastically, all standing, with the exception of Kurzbold, who came down in his seat with a thud.

"All right!" he cried, waving his hand. "All right; all right! That's what I said. Greusel's good man, and now he's elected by the companionship, he's all right. I drink to him. Drink to anybody, I will!"

In groping round for the flagon, he upset it, and then roared loudly for the landlord to supply him again.

"Now, comrades," said Roland sharply, "fall in! We've a long march ahead of us. Come, Greusel, we must lead the van, for I wish to instruct you in your duties."

It was rather a straggling procession that set out from Hochst.

"Perhaps," began Roland, as he strode along beside Greusel, "I should make some excuse for not following the advice you so strenuously urged upon me this morning regarding the appointment of a lieutenant. The truth is I wished to teach you a lesson, and could not resist the temptation of proving that a crisis firmly and promptly met disappears, whereas if you compromise with it there is a danger of being overwhelmed."

"I admit. Commander, that you were successful just now, and the reason is that most of our brigade are sane and sober this morning. But wait until to-night, when the wine passes round several times, and if you try conclusions with them then you are likely to fail."

"But the wine won't pass round to-night."

"How can you prevent it?"

"Wait, and you will see," said Roland, with a laugh.

By this time they arrived at a fork in the road, one section going southwest and the other straight west. The left branch was infinitely the better thoroughfare, for the most part following the Main until it reached the Rhine. Roland, however, chose the right-hand road.

"I thought you were going along by the river," said his lieutenant.

"I have changed my mind," replied Roland, without further explanation.

At first Kurzbold determined to set the pace. He would show the company he was not drunk, and tax them to follow him, but, his stout legs proving unable to carry out this excellent resolution, he gradually fell to the rear. As the sun rose higher, and grew hotter, the pace began to tell on him, and he accepted without protest the support of two comrades who had been drinking with him at Hochst. He retrograded into a condition of pessimistic dejection as the enthusiasm of the wine evaporated. A little later he wished to lie down by the roadside and allow a cruel and unappreciative world to pass on its own way, but his comrades encouraged him to further efforts, and in some manner they succeeded in dragging him along at the tail of the procession.

As they approached the village of Zeilsheim, Roland requested his lieutenant to inform the marchers that there would be no halt until _mittagessen_.

Zeilsheim is rather more than a league from Hochst, and Kurzbold allowed himself to wake up sufficiently to maintain that the distance earned another drink, but his supporters dragged him on with difficulty past those houses which displayed a bush over the door. At the larger town of Hofheim, five leagues from Frankfort, the same command was passed down the ranks, and at this there was some grumbling, for the day had become very hot, and the way was exceedingly trying, up hill and down dale.

Well set up as these city lads were, walking had never been their accustomed exercise. The interesting Taunus mountains, which to-day constitute an exercise ground full of delights to the pedestrian, forming, as they do, practically a suburb of Frankfort, were at that time an unexplored wilderness, whose forests were infested by roving brigands, where no man ventured except at the risk of an untimely grave. The mediaeval townsman rarely trusted himself very far outside the city gates, and our enterprising marauders, whom to outward view seemed stalwart enough to stand great fatigue, proved so soft under the hot sun along the shadeless road that by the time they reached Breckenheim, barely six leagues from Frankfort, there was a mopping of brows and a general feeling that the limit of endurance had been reached.

At Breckenheim Roland called a halt for midday refreshment, and he was compelled to wait nearly half an hour until the last straggler of his woebegone crew limped from the road on to the greensward in front of the _Weinstaube_ which had been selected for a feeding-place. Black bread and a coarse kind of country cheese were the only provisions obtainable, but of these eatables there was an ample supply, and, better than all to the jaded wayfarers, wine in abundance, of good quality, too, for Breckenheim stands little more than a league to the north of the celebrated Hochheim.

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