Dame Hadwig, in the course of her life, had found herself in various positions, but that she could ever become the prisoner of school-boys had certainly never entered her head. This having however the charm of novelty for her, she submitted to her fate with a good grace.
Ratpert the teacher took out of the cupboard a mighty rod, and swinging it over his head, like a second Neptune, he recited, in a thundering voice, the verses of Virgil:
"So far has the conceit, in your pitiful powers, decoyed you,
That, not awaiting my will, and rousing the heavens and waters,
Ye have ventured to stir, ye rebellious winds of the ocean?
Quos ego!!"
A renewed shout was the answer. The room was already divided by a wall of benches and stools, and Master Spazzo was inwardly meditating the expediency of an attack, and the effect of vigorous blows on the heads of the ring-leaders. As for the Abbot, he was perfectly speechless, as this unexpected audacity had quite paralysed his faculties for the moment. The highborn prisoner stood at the other end of the school-room, in a niche, surrounded by her fifteen-years-old captors.
"What is the meaning of all this, ye wicked boys?" asked she smilingly.
Then one of the rebels advanced, bent his knee before her and humbly said: "He who comes as a stranger, is without protection or peace, and peaceless people are kept prisoners, until they have paid a ransom for their liberty."
"Do you learn that out of your Greek books?"
"No, mistress, that is German law."
"Very well, then I will ransom myself," said Dame Hadwig, and laughing merrily, she seized the red-cheeked logician, and drawing him towards her, wanted to kiss him. He however tore himself away, and joining the noisy ranks of his companions cried out:
"That coin, we do not understand!"