ly, "dared to lay hands upon me, and for that I
demand from the judges a sentence of death."

Even his two lieutenants gazed at him in amazement, that he should make
so much of an action which they themselves had endured and nothing said
of it. Surely the laying-on of hands, even in rudeness, was not a
capital crime, yet they saw to their astonishment that Roland was in
deadly earnest.

The leader turned a calm face toward their scrutiny, but there was a
frown upon his brow.

"Work while ye have the light," he said. "Judges, consider your
decision, and deliver your verdict."

Greusel and Ebearhard turned their backs on every one, walked slowly
aft, and down into the cabin. Roland resumed his seat on the bale of
cloth, elbows on his knees, and face in his hands. All appeals had
ceased, and deep silence reigned, every man aboard the boat in a state
of painful tension. The fire in the distant castle lowered and lowered,
and darkness was returning to the deck of the barge. At last the judges
emerged from the cabin, and came slowly forward.

It was Greusel who spoke.

"We wish to know if only these six are on trial?"

"Only these six," replied Roland.

"Our verdict is death," said Greusel. "Kurzbold and Gensbein are to be
thrown into the Rhine bound as they lie, but the other four receive one
chance for life, in that the cords shall be cut, leaving their limbs
free."

This seeming mercy brought no consolation to the quartette, for each
plaintively proclaimed that he could not swim.

"I thank you for your judgment," said Roland, "which I am sure you must
have formed with great reluctance. Having proven yourself such excellent
judges, I doubt not you will now act with equal wisdom as advisers. A
phrase of yours, Ebearhard, persists in my mind, despite all efforts to
dislodge it. You uttered on the ledge of rock yonder something to the
effect that we left Frankfort as comrades together. That is very true,
and unless you override my resolution, I have come to the conclusion
that if any of us are fated to die, the penalty shall be dealt by some
other hand than mine. The twelve who lie here are scarcely less guilty
than the six now under sentence, and I propose, therefore, to put ashore
on the east bank Kurzbold and Gensbein, one a rogue, the other a fool.
The sixteen who remain have so definitely proven themselves to be
simpletons that I trust they will not resent my calling them such. If
however, they abandon all cl