Manchurian Books

"Ah!" cried the inn-keeper, his face aglow. "No such meal is spread
to-night in Frankfort as will be set before you."
There was a great shout as Roland entered the Kaiser cellar, and a
hurrah of welcome.
"Ha, renegade!" cried one. "Have you shirked your task so soon?"
"Coward, coward, poltroon!" was the cry. "I see by his face he has
failed. Never mind them, Roland. Your chair at the head of the table
always awaits you. There is a piece of black bread left, and though the
wine is thin, it quenches thirst."
Roland flung off his cloak, hung it and the sword on a peg, and took his
seat at the head of the table. Pushing away the flagons that stood near
him, he drew the leathern bag from his belt, and poured the shining
yellow coins on the table, at the sight of which there arose such a yell
that the stout beams above them seemed to quake.
"Apologize!" demanded Roland, when the clamor quieted down. "The man who
refuses to apologize, and that abjectly, must take down his sword from
the peg and settle with me!"
A shout of apology was the response.


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