Manchurian Books

Next morning there was consternation in the camp, real or pretended.
Roland was nowhere to be found, nor did further search reveal his
whereabouts.


VIII
THE MISSING LEADER AND THE MISSING GOLD

Probably because of the new responsibility resting upon him, Joseph
Greusel was the first to awaken next morning. He let his long cloak fall
from his shoulders as he sat up, and gazed about him with astonishment.
It seemed as if some powerful wizard of the hills had spirited him away
during the night. He had gone to sleep in a place of terror. The thunder
rolled threateningly among the peaks of Taunus, and the reflection of
the lightning flash, almost incessant in its recurrence, had lit up the
grove with an unholy yellow glare. The never-ceasing roar of the foaming
torrent, which in the darkness gleamed with ghostly pallor, had somehow
got on his nerves. Under the momentary illumination of the lightning,
the waves appeared to leap up at him like a pack of hungry wolves,
flecked with froth, and the noise strove to emulate the distant thunder.


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