Some of the stories told concerning the worthy magistrate's prowess
are probably fiction, but others rest upon good foundation. For
instance, when M. Max was summoned to confer with the German commander,
the latter ostentatiously laid his revolver on the table--just one
of those characteristic little actions that have made the invaders
so cordially hated everywhere. It said, as plainly as spoken words,
"Remember that the powers of life and death are in my hands, and that
I have got force at my back." Some men would have lost their nerve in
such circumstances, but the Burgomaster was made of different stuff.
Without a moment's hesitation, M. Max took his fountain pen from his
pocket and, with a humorously emphatic gesture, banged it down upon the
table opposite the revolver. Was it a sort of hint, one wonders, that
"the pen is mightier than the sword"--that the soldier's reign would
be a brief one? Anyway, it evidently impressed the Prussian, as did
the Burgomaster's conduct throughout the conference, for at the close
of the meeting the general patronizingly congratulated M. Max on his
conduct at the discussion and graciously offered to shake hands with
him. But the Burgomaster was no more susceptible to soft words than
to threats. He remembered how German officers had deliberately ridden
their horses through the city's flower-beds and roughly jostled women
and children off the sidewalks. "Excuse me," he said, firmly, "but we
are enemies."
A little later there came another sharp passage of arms. The new
governor of the city sent for M. Max and informed him curtly that, on
account of the stubborn resistance Belgium had offered, the capital
would have to pay the staggering fine of eight million pounds! How long
would it take the Burgomaster to produce the money?