Erastus found a more systematic order in Petersthal, on his return in
the evening, but still much was wanting, as the four physicians with
their dozen assistants had only accomplished the half of what the
Priest had done single handed in the much larger district of Schoenau.
The laborers themselves had been obliged to undertake the burial of the
dead and the cleaning of the streets, all the healthy men having fled.
It was impossible to think of cleaning the houses, the women asserted
that they were all too weak to help in any way. They could not even be
induced to give up the beds and clothing they had used to be burnt, or
to purify and air their houses. Out of humor, angry, and wearied of
their fruitless toil, the physicians sat together round one of the
carts, which they had fitted up as their night-quarters. The horses
were fastened to the trees, whilst each man made ready with the means
at hand. Erastus still went about the neighboring houses, to at least
aid the sick as far as possible, and only when darkness prevented any
further visitation did the conscientious physician seek his own narrow
cart. Wearied he stretched himself out and gazed upwards at the starry
sky, whose pure beauty formed a singular contrast to the misery going
on around him. Jupiter beamed in calm splendor, and to the South shone
the ruddy Mars. "Can your conjunctions have anything to do with death,
plague and pestilence?" thought the physician, who was generally known
as an opponent of astrology. Then he also slumbered off, but in his
restless sleep he heard the laborers stealing the provision and
guzzling the wine set aside for the sick. Towards morning there was an
alarm. Some scoundrels had furtively approached the provision cart and
attempted to quietly draw it away. But two of the laborers, who
contrary to Erastus' orders had laid down between some sacks, awoke and
roared for help, at which the thieves disappeared in the darkness. At
day-break the expedition arose with stiff limbs, heavy heads, and in a
most dejected condition of mind. The fruitless negotiations with the
people demoralised through sickness began anew. As Erastus perceived
that in this way he would never attain his object, he determined to
copy the example which had been set him the day previous. He turned his
back to the scolding women, and directed his steps towards the church,
whose steeple ranged high above the houses and trees. Surrounded by a
low broken down wall, the small white village church gleamed through
the fruit trees amidst wooden crosses and sunken graves. The physician
thought of turning this into an hospital, but the narrow space would
only hold at the most thirty patients. He had to take hay and straw by
force from the stalls, and with these the laborers prepared a clean
litter along the walls of the church. Erastus and some of his
assistants returned to the carts to fetch blankets and linen. On his
return, he saw a column of smoke arising near the chapel and an alarm
of fire was raised in the quiet village. A peasant enraged at the
forcible abstraction of his hay, had set his whole provision on fire,
and stole unmolested away. It was useless to think of extinguishing
the flames. With a grim laugh the laborers sat on the walls of the
church-yard and looked on at the little church burning down. "If these
people will not help themselves in any way," said the physicians, "let
us leave them. When the pestilence has raged itself out it will cease
of itself." Erastus urged them to make one more house to house
visitation. They shrugged their shoulders and left it to him. The well
intentioned physician met only with senseless objections or coarse
abuse on giving orders in the nearest house, that the infected objects
should be burnt. He at length lost all patience, and declared he would
hand over no provisions to those who refused to obey his directions.
He then together with his laborers began clearing out the empty
farm-yards, so that after this work had been completed, the healthy
could occupy them instead of their infected dens in the village. Here
and there large fires fed by the straw beds of the patients now flamed
up, and the disgusting smell of burnt linen filled the entire valley.
But Erastus' own people had had already enough of the affair. Nothing
was done as quick as he ordered it, or as he had ordered it. The
laborers took advantage of the evacuation of the sick-dens to pilfer,
as predicted by the peasants, and the villagers stood in angry groups
together consulting as to whether they could not resist by force the
attacks of these strangers. Finally Erastus was compelled to make the
humiliating confession to himself, that without priestly intervention
he could never attain his object among this debased population. Paul's
miracle on the Kreuzweg appeared to him now in a much milder light. So
he sat down on a stone and wrote a letter to the Magister. "Jurists and
medical men abdicate, and pray for help from the theologians," he began
his request to Paul, asking him whether he could not leave Schoenau to
itself for a short while, so as to place matters here on a better
footing. One of the laborers was despatched to the monastery with this
prayer to the miracle-monger, a request disagreeable enough to Erastus,
who himself returned once more to his thankless duties. The mood of the
peasants had now become belligerent. They stood around the carts in
groups and declared that the Kurfuerst had sent these provisions for
their benefit, and that the Counsellor had no right to withhold them.
Some of the men and youths, who had kept out of the way on the previous
day, now mingled among the groups. They were presumably the same who
had made the nightly attack on the cart containing the provisions.
Erastus had to summon his men from their work to guard the wagons. The
physicians themselves began to be weary of their work. "Let us give the
provisions to this rebellious peasantry and leave them to their fate,"
they said. Whilst thus a violent discussion arose among the members of
the Commission, an impudent youth sprang upon the provision cart and
tore down the linen covering. Immediately the women surrounded the cart
and seized casks and sacks with eager hands. Suddenly the trot of
horses was heard at the entrance of the village. "The police magistrate
with four mounted men," cried a laborer, "he knows what is necessary to
do." The women crept off, in an instant the crowd dispersed and the
young men disappeared behind the houses. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni, "the
learned Magistrate," as he was wont to be called by the guests at the
Hirsch, appeared on the spot and sprang from his horse. He was a
handsome man, this magistrate, but his tall figure was broken down
through dissipation. Only a few sparse black hairs covered the head of
this man yet in the prime of life, and all the seven mortal sins had
left their traces on his worn face. His eyes were crooked, and his legs
no longer carried out the wishes of their owner. Although the ends of
his moustache curled up grimly, the corners of the mouth were weak and
flabby. For so severe a man his bearing was rather affected, as he much
liked to show off the learning, which he owed to the old school of
humanity at Heidelberg. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni did not like work.
Instead of fulfilling his office at the town-hall, he preferred making
verses, and the reports of his examinations often read like poems. The
Kurfuerst wished to dismiss him, but the Amtmann of Heidelberg had
rendered to Frederic III., at the death of Otto Heinrich, a signal
service. He had enabled the poor Duke of Simmern to enter Heidelberg in
sufficient time to possess himself of his legitimate inheritance, which
the Duke Albert of Bavaria was already preparing to seize. Thus the
Kurfuerst felt himself bound down by personal obligations, and many a
Prince has been compelled to adopt new reforms to render an official
whom he does not wish to offend harmless. Herr Hartmann's bad
management had rendered the idea of handing over police management to
the Presbyters more acceptable to Frederic III., as the Church alone
seemed to have an earnest desire to punish sin. Naturally the
Magistrate himself was numbered among the friends of the Geneva Ban who
would thus relieve him of a part of his burdensome duties. Such was the
man who now appeared on Paolo's battle-field of Schoenau. Half rake,
half pedant he presented at no time a pleasant appearance, but that day
he was as wonderfully decked out as if he had copied Holbein's picture
of the plague-doctor. In one hand he had a bottle of vinegar which he
clapped to his nose so soon as the smell of burnt bedding reached his
nostrils; in the other he held drawn his longest sword, as if to keep
away every danger from his person. If he had to touch anything, he
dropped the vinegar bottle into his pocket, and brought out a pair of
tweazers, with which he held out the objects, although he appeared well
protected by thick leather gloves. Doublet and hose were stuffed out
with camomile and peppermint, and in case this did not suffice, around
his breast and back hung hollow balls pierced with holes, from which
spunges steeped in medicines, spread a stupefying odor. Deadly fear and
silent rage at the disgusting duty imposed on him were expressed on his
dark countenance. His first magisterial duty was to arrest the peasant
who had caused the fire, and who for the time was bound to a tree. The
soldiers brought about by blows and curses the execution of the
precautionary measures, which the physician had been vainly
endeavouring for the last twenty-four hours to induce the obstinate
peasant-women to adopt. At midday the Magistrate held an inquiry as to
how the plague had crept in. At first the women kept a sullen silence,
till finally a young wench on whose features idiocy was plainly marked
stepped forward and related like some cackling hen her confused tale.
Every evening before the outburst of the pestilence, a dog with fiery
eyes had run across the village snapping at the houses. Wherever he had
stopped, the plague declared itself within seven days. The dog was in
fact no one else but the herb-woman of the Kreuzgrund, in whose hut he
always disappeared. The infection had left off at the Kreuzgrund, not a
single person had died there. "So she is again to the front," said the
Magistrate. "In the office there is already a series of papers about
her misdeeds. Now is she ripe for the stake. Does not her appearance
quite coincide with the story of the mad dog at Ephesus, which
Apollonius of Tyana ordered to be stoned to death?" he said turning to
the Counsellor. Erastus however returned to his cart, he would have
nothing to do with the matter. The Magistrate mounted accompanied by
two men, to arrest Mother Sibylla. Near them ran the girl who had
accused the witch to act as guide. "That she is a witch," she said
panting, "one can know from her always having butter, and yet no one
has ever seen her churning. She has charmed my Peter and he now keeps
company with Sue, and my mother's pains are also owing to her. But
there is her house, I won't go any further, else she will do me some
harm." The old woman's hut lay in the woody green Seitenthal, whose
stream turned the wheels of Werner's mill. It was a small house black
with smoke and age having blind windows. The door was shut, one of the
soldiers looked through the cracks: "All is empty, she escaped up the
chimney the moment she heard us coming."
"Dismount, we must make an inventory," ordered the Magistrate. The men
dismounted and a strong shove soon broke in the door of the empty hut.
On entering the soldiers made the sign of the cross to guard themselves
from the magic arts of the escaped witch. This was a catholic custom
and it was well for them that none of the gentlemen forming the Church
Council saw them otherwise they would have been dismissed from the
service. The room was empty. Only a large black cat sitting by the
hearth, glared with ferocious green eyes at the uninvited guests.
"Could that be the witch in person." The sergeant approached, "Jesus,
Maria, Joseph," he yelled out as the cat made a spring forward and
disappeared through the open door. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni maintained
his composure, but nevertheless let his men precede him, so that they
might fall victims to any magic curse, which the old woman might have
left behind. He also took care not to touch anything. Whatever was to
be confiscated, he let the soldiers take away. There was however not
much. Above the empty hearth, hung a fox's skin, as well as other furs
and hides, placed there by the witch to be dried out. A box with old
iron seemed to Herr Hartmann to resemble the nails of a scaffold, and
the rope hanging near might have been used for hanging. Brooms leaning
against the chimney appeared to him worthy of suspicion. All kinds of
flowers and herbs were laid out on boards or in wicker-baskets to be
dried: elder, dandelions, camomile, lime-blossoms, and others, though
it was not really necessary for the devil to have taught mother Sibylla
their properties. The disappointed police-officers looked at each
other, was that really a witch's kitchen? The sergeant came a sudden
exclamation of joy and pointed to a small trap-door carefully concealed
by old clothes. Herr Hartmann pushed it open with his sword, and as it
gave way ordered the officer to open it. "Here we have her household
ware," said the Amtmann with a furious look. The men entered into the
room. The bleached skull of a horse gazed at them with hollowed eyes
from the opposite wall. On old pots and broken dishes lay dried wolves'
eyes, birds' hearts, owls' feathers and claws. Snakes with black backs
and white bellies were seen in tightly corked glass bottles, as well as
horribly distended toads. Lizards with far cleverer eyes than those of
the men looking at them returned their gaze from the glassy confines in
which they were placed. On the window-sill were little bottles with
salves, fern-seeds, vervain and all kinds of magic powders. That which
however most served to convict the witch, was a basket which the wicked
old woman had evidently placed hurriedly down after her last trip,
before escaping, for in it lay carefully wrapped up in rags and small
boxes, all kinds of snake skeletons, toads' bones, a child's skull,
wolf's hair, a bottle with pigeon's blood, and numerous bits of paper
on which curious symbols were inscribed, together with a skillet with
tinder and flint used to cook the witch's broth in the woods. Herr
Hartmann Hartmanni did not appear quite satisfied. "A miserably low
slut," he said contemptuously, "the whole find is not worth fifty
thalers. Take up the basket, as it is, and the old pots with their
contents. This Satan's bride has concealed her more valuable
implements, otherwise I should have managed to scrape together a pretty
considerable sum out of these confiscated pots and kettles. But Master
Hammerling will soon open her mouth, and make her tell, where she has
hidden her treasure, the moment we have caught her."
"She won't let herself be caught," said the sergeant, "she is now away
with the plague, and God only knows what shape she will assume, and
whether she won't appear to us to-night as a nightmare."
"The plague take it," said the Amtmann tremblingly.
"I think, Sir," continued the soldier, "it would be as well to leave
her property untouched, one never knows how she may revenge herself. It
once came to pass, that the Magistrate at Mosbach, after he had
confiscated the witch's rubbish, went quietly to bed thinking that his
beloved wife was already there; she however turned out to be the witch,
pulled his leg out of the socket and otherwise injured him, then she
vanished up the chimney, and what he had taken from her, had the next
morning disappeared, in spite of having been carefully deposited under
lock and key. I vote that we leave it all, as it is."
The Magistrate turned pale. "We can perhaps affix a seal," he murmured.
At this instant a long dark figure appeared at the doorway. "Good
Heavens," ejaculated the sergeant.
"Holy Martin," stuttered out the Magistrate, utterly regardless of the
protestant doctrines.
"Is not the Counsellor Erastus here?" inquired Magister Laurenzano in
his musical voice.
"Oh, is it you, Magister," said the Magistrate quite relieved. "You
will find the Counsellor in the village, but could you not tell us,
where to find the old witch, who lives in this hole?"
"What is she guilty of now?" asked Paul.
The Amtmann answered pathetically. "Strong evidence is adduced, that it
was she, who caused the pestilence." Seeing the Magister turn pale,
Herr Hartmann raised his arm in a tragic manner. The sight of the
learned and renowned pulpit orator inspired him. "Not without reason,"
began he his declamation, "is this wicked old woman named Sibylla. She
has gathered near the Linsenteich the herbs, whose juices, as Plinius
tells us, infuse corruption through all the channels of the body. By
the white stone, where thorn and thistle thickly growing prevent an
access, by the marshy alder stream, by all solitary moors, among the
reedy thickets of the Kimmelsbach, in short everywhere, where the tread
of man is seldom heard, has she been seen crouching, ensnaring toads
and conversing with will-o-the wisps. Among the ruins of the
Heiligenberg, where vipers wreath, and in yonder silent woods, where
the mountain-cock was her solitary companion, has she been seen, as she
divided the invisible regions of the air with hazel-twigs, brought down
hail, and murmured invocations whilst crouching in the dust. She has
poisoned the source of this brook, so that it brought the plague into
the town, and transformed in the similitude of a dog has dropped the
poisonous foam in the dark evening hour, on the thresholds of those
houses, in which according to evidence the plague first broke out. See
here the implements of Satan," and he rapped upon the confiscated wares
of the witch, "behold the black and white wand of Circe," said he,
taking up a half-pealed hazel-stick from the corner and handing it to
the Magister. A lurid fire gleamed in the widely distended eyes of the
young Priest, excited at the account of these horrors. "Behold,"
continued the Magistrate carried away by his own discourse, "the
hellish distillations, which she obtained drop by drop from the roots
and stalks of plants, see, how she bottled the night-dew and poison of
the fulsome toad, to sprinkle over innocent children, here in this
kettle did she boil the poisonous vapours, which rising upwards to the
clouds came down again as the seeds of pestilence, and behold moreover
how this beauteous green wooded valley is already withered by the
breath of the witch." Paul Laurenzano turned pale with excitement, his
breath came and went quickly and audibly. The old fire of fanaticism
gleamed in his dark eye. "I think I know who has concealed her," he
said with tremulous voice. "Come, I will guide you."
The Amtmann strode reverentially at the side of the young clergyman.
The soldiers followed at a short interval leading the Magistrate's
horse. Having proceeded for a brief space, the Magister left the road,
and followed the course of a stream towards a mill. "Even in Schoenau,"
he now said, "the report has spread, that the old witch brought in the
plague, and as she was not safe in her house, you will find her
concealed by the old Dissenter, Miller Werner." Behind the green
orchard, overshadowed by poplars and elders, lay the mill sought for by
the troop of police, an emblem of peace. The front window-shutters were
closed, but the clappering wheels untiringly spoke by day and night the
praise of the man, who even during these terrible times had not ceased
working, but made bread for the starving inhabitants out of the newly
gathered in harvest. The inhabitants of the mill had not heard the
arrival of the soldiers owing to the noise of the wheels, but the
Magistrate rapped loudly with the pommel of his sword on the closed
shutters.
"Don't break in my windows. Peace-breaker," called out the voice of old
Werner, "is that the way you ask for bread?" The shutter flew open and
the weather-beaten face of the gray headed miller appeared. Surprised,
yet without fear, he surveyed the group before his house, whilst the
red head of his boy, sprinkled over with flour, like the stalk of a red
lily, cropped up behind him curious to hear what all this was about?
But before the Baptist could express any astonishment the Magistrate
began: "You are sheltering the old witch. Give her up else you will
find yourself in the square tower, which you well know."
"Of what is she accused?" asked the old Miller calmly.
"Of spreading the plague," answered Herr Hartmann Hartmanni with due
solemnity.
"And you, the Prince's Magistrate believe, that an old woman can have
caused all the misery which the united officials of the Palatinate
could not prevent? In that case, sir, do not lay your hand on her, lest
she injure you through incantations."
"You admit then, that she is here?" asked the Magistrate.
The Baptist made a sign behind his back, and his red-headed boy
disappeared through a door leading from within. Instead of answering
the question, he then said,
"It is curious, for weeks we have been waiting for the officials to aid
in stemming the pestilence. My provisions are devoured, my faithful
Martha is worn to a shadow through running, watching and attending
others, government however let us rot and perish. But now, now that the
plague is almost gone, riders and carts come to take off an old woman
who is accused of being the cause of all the trouble." Herr Hartmann
Hartmanni was rather taken aback at this unexpected onslaught, but a
tremendous noise at the back of the house prevented him from making any
answer. A horrible crowing, squeaking, and grunting was heard to
proceed from a distant hay-rick. The horse of the sergeant leapt wildly
neighing with emptied saddle over the garden hedge, whilst its gigantic
master lay miserably grovelling in the dust. The other police officer
cursed and swore, whilst endeavoring to hold on to the bridle of the
dismounted magistrate's shying steed without letting his own bolt. Paul
sprang forwards to discover the cause of the confusion. An old woman
ran in his way thinking to reach the mountains unobserved. He laid
tight hold of her and immediately the sergeant who had been thrown off
picked himself up and seized the old woman by the arm. "Devils' witch,"
he said, "we will serve thee out for this." At the same moment loud
spanks and mournful wails were heard from behind the house. "He who
does not hear, must feel, foolish boy," roared the angry voice of the
Miller. "How often have I told you not to play the devil. Now thou
alone hast made the matter look bad." The two groups met together at
the door, the angry Miller holding his howling son by the ear, the
Parson and the sergeant hauling along the old woman, who let her feet
drag over the ground, uttering the most bestial cries. "Did I not sell
you the snakes," she said every now and then to the Parson, "let me go.
You also use snakes for your enchantments." At this disgusting sight
the Miller let his boy loose. "Shame on you," he cried, "to thus
ill-use an old woman, you especially, a Priest!"
"Witch and heretic house together, that has ever been an old custom,"
replied the Magister angrily, whilst the sergeant and his officer bound
the old woman and then threw her on the ground.
"You have given shelter to the witch," now said the Magistrate, "we
heard in your yard with our own ears the neighing of the devilish host,
who with horns, tails, and claws galloped close past the sergeant as he
lay on the ground...."
"Dost thou see, George, what thou hast brought about," interposed the
Miller, seizing his boy once more by the arm and shaking him. "He it
was who imitated the hellish voices, to laugh over your fright, other
devils are not to be found in my house. You will make yourselves
ridiculous, if it is known, that you let yourselves be taken in by a
child."
Solemnly Herr Hartmann Hartmanni turned round to the red-headed George,
who stood sheepishly near the fence not understanding the extent of the
danger to his person. "Good, then he goes also with us to Heidelberg,
and if he be not found guilty of more devilish arts, he will
nevertheless get his _quantum satis_ of birching for ridiculing the
district magistrate."
"You will certainly never lock up a mere child in the witch's tower for
a boyish trick for which he has been already punished?" said the
Miller. "What will become of a child in this terrible prison, he will
be frightened to death."
"You will keep him company," now broke in the Magister, "Herr Hermanni,
I accuse this Baptist and heretic of intriguing for his sect contrary
to the prince's mandates. He has lately availed himself of the terror
caused by the plague, and also re-baptised certain families living in
Schoenau. Besides this you are witness, that he is in communication with
the witch who is to be found on all cross-roads."
The Miller drew himself to his full height. "And thou priest of Baal,
darest thou speak of cross-roads. Who is it makes appointments with
innocent girls after sun-down on the cross-roads, yes, and the worst in
repute of the whole district, where evil spirits, or rather evil
passions abound." And once more the Miller pushed his boy to the front
and called out: "Look on that boy, he it is to whom thou didst entrust
thy filthy message." Pale as death Paul made a step backwards. Had when
in decent company the whole of his clothes suddenly fallen off his
body, he would have scarcely felt such a shock, as he did at his moral
nakedness being thus exposed. A painful silence now reigned, all the
more annihilating for the young Priest, as the audience had lately been
increased, attracted by the noise the Heidelberg physicians together
with the laborers and numerous peasant women had hastened up. All
watched Paul's lips intently, to hear how he would answer such a
serious charge. But he remained silent. It seemed to him as if he had
become transparent, and every one pried into his filthy secrets with
mocking eyes.
Then the witch on the ground squeaked out. "He it was who enticed Herr
Erastus' fair haired daughter of a dark night to the Holtermann."
"What sayest thou of my daughter?" cried out Erastus, approaching the
old woman in a rage.
"Well, the Counsellor must best know where it was that his daughter
broke her little foot. The Parson wanted to play at marriage with her
on the cross-road, where the Evil One meets his mistress every night.
But others came before the gentleman, and the bride sprang into the
Heidenloch, and that was too humid a bride-chamber for Sir Parson."
"You keep silent, old Dragon," whispered the old Miller, giving her a
kick with his foot, but the bound witch only called out her wondrous
tale doubly loud to the people around. Erastus' features became
distorted, he laughed through very excitement. He resembled at that
moment in his maddening sorrow the Devil himself, as his enemies
averred; his hair bristled up, his face became black, whilst the white
of his eye gleamed horribly from out of his darkened countenance. The
cowardly Magistrate drew back. Among what sort of people had he fallen!
He had long known Erastus to be a heretic; but now his daughter was a
witch; he himself perhaps a sorcerer; did not the terrible man look
exactly like one at that moment. And the foreign Parson moreover, whom
Herr Hartmanni had never trusted, and who, as he the Magistrate of the
district had just been informed, also bought witches' wares, held
converse with the Evil one on the cross-road, and brought young maidens
to his nightly revels. Not to mention the Baptist, his devilish boy,
and the bound witch herself, who fixed him with an evil glare. Everyone
who stood there must be clapped into the witches' tower on the Zwinger,
but to do this he must have a warrant from the Kurfuerst. He must also
return with at least half a company of crossbow-men to this valley and
root out all heresy and witchcraft. Without saying a word he mounted
his horse and rode out of shot of his dreadful neighbors. Then he
called out: "The examination can take place in Heidelberg, my business
here is at an end. Sergeant, you deliver the witch and incendiary into
the tower." He then set spurs to his horse, ordered the other officers
in the village to follow him and trotted away as quick as he possibly
could down the valley, still in mortal terror of being pursued by this
conventicle of witches and heretics. The sergeant and the officer
placed the fettered witch between their horses and thus brought her to
the village, when being bound together with the peasant to a cart they
made their way to the Tower. The Miller had in the meanwhile taken his
boy by the arm; they went into the house to the old Martha. Erastus
remained behind; he went up close to the young Priest, who stood
silently leaning against a pear tree. "Magister Laurenzano," said the
wretched father in a husky voice, "is there any truth in the statement
made by the witch?" The young Priest remained silent. He looked down as
if overwhelmed. "Did you entice Lydia by night to the Holtermann?" now
shrieked the Physician in wild despair. The Priest bowed his head. The
tall physician fell prostrate on the ground. His companions sprang
forwards and carried him to one of the carts, whilst the Priest with
his face buried in his hands hastened away.
All was once more still in front of the Miller's house. The frightened
fowls ran hither and thither in the down-trodden grass. The mill-wheels
clappered their monotonous old song, and gaily gleamed the rivulet in
the bright midday sun, while many colored butterflies and dark
dragonflies hovered around it. The passionate sobbing of women arose
from the interior of the mill. After a while, Father Werner and his son
appeared at the edge of the wood, both bearing knapsacks on their
backs. The Miller knew, what to expect at the return of the Magistrate
and made his way to the nearest frontier. Red-headed George on the
other hand seemed not to consider the matter in so serious a light; he
followed after his enraged progenitor quite calmly. "Father do not
hurry so," he said panting, "the Heidelberg police are always late."