While he was speaking a large body of people, led on by a man on
horseback, and accompanied by several priests, were seen advancing at
the farther end of the square. Many of the people fled, but the
preacher boldly kept his ground, as did Moretz and Karl, who, indeed,
scarcely heeded the movement of the people surrounding him. In another
minute Moretz found himself dragged from his pack-saddle by a couple of
men, and looking up, he saw Johann Herder frowning down upon him. He
struggled to free himself, for his muscles were well-knit, and he had
lost but little of his vigour. He succeeded in getting near enough to
Karl to whisper, "Fly away home and look after Meta. God will take care
of me. Do not be afraid. Keep up your spirits, Karl. Off!--off!
quick! quick!"
He had scarcely uttered these words before he was again seized by two
additional men, who set on him, and he saw that to struggle further was
useless.
"Bring him along," said Herder, "with the other prisoners. The
magistrates will quickly adjudge the case. I knew that I should some
day have my revenge," he whispered into the old man's ear, "and I intend
to make you feel it bitterly."
Moretz was thankful to see that Karl had made his escape, and without
opposition followed his captors to the hall where the magistrates were
sitting. They had resolved to prevent any public preaching in their
town.
While the magistrates' officers were making prisoners, several men
rallied round the preacher, and before he could be seized, got him down
from the platform in their midst, and then retired down the street, no
one venturing to attack them.
Moretz, with six or seven more prisoners, was placed before the
magistrates, several priests being present, eager to obtain their
condemnation. Moretz was asked how he dared stop and listen to an
heretical preacher, and whether he thought the preacher was speaking the
truth, or falsehood?
"Had I thought he had been speaking falsehood, I would not have stopped
to listen to him," answered the old man, boldly. "He spoke things, too,
which I know are to be found in the word of God, and I am sure that all
in that book is true."
"Evidently a fearful heretic!" exclaimed the magistrates. "We must make
an example of him, and put a stop to this sort of thing. In the
meantime, to prison with him!"
"Stay," said one. "Though guilty of listening, perchance he will
recant, and acknowledge himself in error."
"Indeed I will not," answered the old man. "I believe God rather than
man, and will not deny the truths He has taught me."
"Off with him!--off with him! You see there is no use discussing
matters with a heretic," exclaimed some of the other magistrates.
The other prisoners were now tried. Two or three only of them, were,
however, committed to prison, the others acknowledging themselves in
error. Of these, however, several as they went away muttered words
complimentary neither to their judges nor to the Pope and his cardinals.
Moretz, with several other prisoners, was marched off under a strong
guard to the prison. It was a dark, old, gloomy building, which had
been a castle, but having been partly dismantled, had been fitted up
again for its present purpose. It contained several long passages, both
above ground and under ground, leading to arched cells with strong oak
doors plated with iron.
Into one of these dungeons Moretz was now thrust. There he was left in
solitude. There was but little light, but he discovered a heap of straw
in one corner, on which he sat himself down. "Well," he thought, "other
people have been shut up in prison cells worse than this, and Christians
too." And then he thought of Paul and Silas in the prison at Philippi,
and how they had spent their time in praying and singing praises to God.
"That is just what I ought to do," he said to himself; but he did not
pray so much for himself as for his dear little Meta and Karl, that God
would take care of them, and deliver him in His own good time, if it was
His will to do so. Then he began to sing, for Spena had left a book of
hymns, the words of several of which he had already learned by heart.
"The feet of Paul and Silas were in the stocks," he said to himself,
"then surely I am better off than they were; I ought to praise God for
that;" and so he sang on right cheerfully. However, not being
accustomed to sit long, he soon got up and walked about his cell. He
could make but few paces without turning. A gleam of light came through
an aperture in the upper part of the wall. "I am not much below ground,
at all events," he observed; and it set him thinking, always lifting up
his heart in prayer to God.