"Simonne!" said the Councilman to his wife in a tone of earnest reproof, interrupting the prelate. "You should not speak that way. Those past crimes belong before the bar of God, not of the Commune, as are the misdemeanors that I am prosecuting. The bishop is summoned to answer only the two charges that I have preferred."
"I shall save you half your trouble!" cried out Gaudry in a towering rage, and dropping his jeering tone towards the Councilman. "I declare that I am keeping a farmer's horse; I declare that my negro John stabbed a clown of the city this morning. Now, then, decide, you stupid brute!"
"Seeing you admit these wrong-doings, seigneur Bishop of Laon, I decide that you return the horse to its owner, or that you pay him his price, a hundred and twenty silver sous; and I decide that you render justice for the crime committed by your black slave John."
"And I shall keep the horse without paying for it; and I hold that my servant John did justly punish an insolent communier! Now, pronounce your sentence."
"Bishop of Laon, those are very serious words," answered the Councilman with emotion. "I conjure you, deign to think that over while I shall read to you aloud two clauses from our charter, sworn to by yourself, signed with your own hand, and sealed with your own seal; do not forget that; and moreover confirmed by our seigneur the King." Whereat the Councilman, producing a parchment from his pocket, read as follows: "'If anyone injure a man who shall have taken the oath of the Commune of Laon, a complaint being lodged with the Mayor and Councilmen, they shall, after due trial, enforce justice upon the body and upon the property of the guilty party.... If the guilty party takes refuge in a fortified castle, the Mayor and Councilmen shall notify the seigneur of the castle, or his lieutenant. If in their opinion satisfaction shall have been rendered against the guilty party, that will suffice; but if the seigneur refuses satisfaction, they shall themselves enforce justice upon the property and upon the men of the said seigneur.' That, seigneur bishop, is the law of our Commune, agreed and sworn to by yourself and us. If, then, you do not return the horse, if you do not give us satisfaction for the crime of your servant John, we shall see ourselves forced to ourselves enforce justice upon you and upon your men."
Certain of the support of the King, the bishop and the episcopals had for some time desired to provoke a conflict with the communiers. They felt certain of success, and looked in that way to reconquer by force their seigniorial rights, a one-time inexhaustible treasure, but alienated by them three years previous, for a considerable sum of money, that had by this time been dissipated. By refusing to satisfy the legitimate demands of the Councilmen, the bishop was inevitably bound to lead to a collision at the very moment when Louis the Lusty would arrive at Laon with a numerous troop of knights. Accordingly, making no doubt that the people would be crushed in the struggle, and considering himself seconded by circumstance, Gaudry, so far from angrily answering the baker, now replied with a sarcastic affectation of humility: "Alack, illustrious Councilman, poor seigneurs that we are, we shall have no choice but to try and resist you, my valiant Caesars, and to prevent you from enforcing justice upon our goods and our persons, as you triumphantly announce. We shall have to don our casques and cuirasses, and await you, lance in hand, mounted on our battle horses! Alack!"
"Seigneur bishop," answered the baker, anxiously joining his hands, "your refusal to do justice to the Commune, is equivalent to a declaration of war between our townsmen and you!"
"Alack!" replied Gaudry ironically imitating Ancel's gesture, "we shall then have to resign ourselves to battle. Fortunately the episcopal knights know how to manage the lance and sword wherewith they will run you through."
"The battle will be terrible in our city," cried out the Councilman excitedly. "Why would you reduce us to such extremities, when it depends upon you to avert such a calamity by proving yourself equitable and faithful to your oath?"
"I implore you, yield to these wise words," now put in the archdeacon addressing Gaudry. "Your refusal will unchain all the scourges of civil war, and cause torrents of blood to flow. Woe is us!"