Furstenberg was also a fief of Cologne, and any molestation of it would
involve the meddler, if identified, in complications with the Church and
the Archbishop.
It was necessary, therefore, to move with caution, and to retreat, if
possible, unobserved. These difficulties alone were enough to give pause
to the most intrepid, but Roland was further handicapped by his own
following. How could he hope to accomplish any subtle movement requiring
silence, prompt obedience, and great alertness, supported by men whose
brains were muddled with drink, and whose conduct was saturated with
conspiracy against him? They had wine enough on board to continue their
orgy, and he was quite unable to prevent their carouse. With a deep sigh
he realized that he would be compelled to forego Furstenberg, and thus
leave behind him a virgin citadel, which he knew was bad tactics from a
military point of view.
During his meditations his men were coming up from the fuming cabin into
the fresh air and the sunlight. They appeared by twos and threes,
yawning and rubbing their eyes, but no one ventured to interrupt the
leader as, with bent head, he paced back and forth on the deck.
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