Bewildered by this tirade, the mayor looked at the good man for a few moments, and then said—
“It’s fortunate for you that we have no communal prison, otherwise I would have had you taken to it at once, to teach you to speak with respect to a magistrate wearing his scarf. I give you twenty minutes to take yourself out of this town, and if you stay here one second longer, I’ll have you marched to Saverne between two gendarmes.”
The guests all looked at one another in amazement, and Coucou Peter, turning to the Anabaptist, who triumphed in his turn, said to him, in a tone of disdainful eloquence—
“It is said, ‘They will deliver you to the magistrates to be tormented, and you will be banished on account of justice.’”
And those present, not less indignant than the disciple of Mathéus, would have fallen upon the Anabaptist but for the presence of the mayor.
The illustrious philosopher had had time to recover himself, however; and as his heart swelled with pain in thinking that he was about to lose the fruit of so many efforts and sacrifices, he resolved to defend himself.
“Mr. Mayor,” he said, with forced calmness—“Mr. Mayor, I shall with more confidence attempt to justify myself, knowing that for several years you have governed this province. You can without difficulty ascertain that I have not been more than one day in Haslach, and that this Anabaptist has not found me disputing with anybody, nor getting the people together, either in the churches, the temples, or in the public places. He is not able to prove one of the charges he has brought against me. It is true, and I admit it before you, that I serve the God of Pythagoras, hoping in Him as the Anabaptist himself hopes, and knowing Him as he knows Him. For this it is that I labour incessantly, to preserve my conscience exempt from reproaches; and as it commands me to spread the light by all possible means, I have set forth with this honourable purpose, quitting the roof of my fathers, my friends, and all that is dearest to me in the world, to fulfil my duties. Allow me, then, to remain in this place only one day longer—I ask no more—to convert the whole town to the truths of Anthropo-Zoology.”
“The more reason why you should be sent away at once,” interrupted the mayor; “instead of twenty minutes, I’ll not allow you more than ten.” Turning to the Anabaptist, “Pelsly,” he said, “go and fetch the gendarmes.”
At these words Frantz Mathéus felt his hare nature gain the upper hand.
“Oh, Mr. Mayor, Mr. Mayor!” he cried, his eyes filling with tears, “posterity will severely judge you!”