There fell such a silence that the people noticed the whirring of the wings of a pair of doves which flew over the speaker's stand. Pointing to them, Jörgli cried:
"There they fly! One says not to the other, 'We will turn this way or that.' Their flight agrees by nature. So it is. Agreeing by nature--"
He paused, and seemed unable to proceed. The figure had evidently led him off from what he meant to say. He looked around perplexed, and seemed not to be able to speak another word--yes, even to have forgotten that he stood upon the platform.
His two companions above, and the audience below, stood in painful embarrassment. It was wrong to have brought an old man of a hundred on the stand.
Just then the district forester, who stood near, said audibly, "Emperor Joseph."
Jörgli opened his mouth wide and nodded. Yes, now he had his guiding-star again. Almost inaudibly, and in a very confused manner, he spoke of the Emperor Joseph and of the new emperor. Only this much was plain--that he considered the present emperor as the direct successor and continuer of the Emperor Joseph's struggles against the Pope.
Titus handed Jörgli a nail, and the lieutenant gave him a hammer. He nailed the flag to the flag-staff, and this widely visible act was more than the best speech; and he left the stand amid cheers and the sounds of trumpets.
He immediately called for his wagon. He wished to go home, and no one dared urge him to remain.
The four-horse wagon drove up the meadow. Landolin pushed his way up to it, and said, "Jörgli, I will go home with you. Take me along."
"Give my greetings to your wife," said Jörgli, turning away from him. He let himself be helped into the wagon, and then drove away. The wheels were hardly heard on the meadow, and the people on both sides saluted reverently, as they made way for him.