'So mote it be!' again submissively repeated all mouths.
'Whoever sins against one of these commands, roared the prophet, with wild flashing eyes, 'shall die the death!'
'Amen!' said the trembling chorus, and the prophet stalked haughtily out of the door.
'Who was that!' Alf timidly asked his kinsman. 'Johannes Bockhold, our second prophet,' answered he, dejectedly, 'the right hand of the great Matthias.'
'All the books!' sighed the orator Rothman.
'All the gold and silver!' sighed the worthy Kippenbrock, after him, involuntarily raising his hand to his head, as if for the purpose of scratching it, but recollecting in season that this movement was rather unseemly for a new burgomaster, he quickly let it fall again.
'The Lord wills it, and his servants must be obedient,' said Knipperdolling to Kippenbrock. 'Let the commands of the prophet be proclaimed, my brother. I have yet much to do with recording the estates of the exiles, which have become forfeit to the community!'
He departed, and Rothman followed him. 'All the gold and silver!' repeated the elder Kippenbrock sorrowfully, yet once more, and he went after them.
'God forgive me if this feeling be a sin,' cried Alf, when he saw himself alone; 'but these prophets appear horrible to me, and I shall never be able to reconcile my heart to them.'