The dining-room became more and more animated; the convives, ignorant of the sublime mission of the illustrious philosopher, chatted together on indifferent matters—of the fair, the harvest, the coming vintage. They ate, laughed, drank, called to the servants, who rushed up and down the winding stairs with dishes of sauer-kraut, saveloys, smoking sausages, roast legs of mutton, ducks swimming in their own gravy, and little sucking-pigs covered with beautiful golden-yellow crackling.
In the midst of this joyous animation, Maître Frantz thought he heard these prophetic words:—“Honour! glory! Honour to the great Mathéus! Eternal glory to the inventor of the peregrination of souls! Glory! glory! honour! glory! Honour to the great Mathéus! Eternal glory to the inventor of the peregrination of souls!” And in mute ecstasy he leaned back in his chair, dropped his fork, and listened to these far-off voices; but, in truth, this was but the effect of the Eckersthal wine and the noisy hum of the room.
It was about two o’clock, and the moment for the dessert had arrived—that moment when everybody speaks at once and nobody listens, when every one thinks himself witty, and first one and then another laughs, without knowing why.
At that moment the illustrious Doctor rose at the end of the table, and gravely began to explain the transformation of bodies and the peregrination of souls. He spoke calmly and said—
“Justice is the law of the universe; being, from the beginning of time, was subjected to the law of justice; all things have been made by it, and nothing that has been made has been made without it. It was life, and life was will; and will animated matter, whence came plants, whence came animals, whence came man!
“There was a man sent by Heaven, named Pythagoras: he came into the world, and the world has not understood him—his doctrines have not been understood!”
Thus spoke the illustrious philosopher, and all present listened in astonishment at his wisdom. But amongst the number there was an old Anabaptist named Pelsly, a God-fearing man; and this venerable person was outraged by the doctrine of the illustrious philosopher. So, raising one of his fingers with an inspired air, he cried—
“Now, the Spirit says expressly, that in the time to come some will abandon the faith, following erring minds and diabolical doctrines, taught by impostors filled with hypocrisy, and with consciences darkened by crime!”
Having pronounced these words he relapsed into silence. Everybody felt that he referred to Frantz Mathéus.
The illustrious philosopher turned pale, for he heard a murmur rise about him. Coucou Peter became as red as a burning coal.