“Tell us now what thou didst mean by thy foolish lie about the Bible,” urged the head of the thirteen elders.
“I spoke the truth. But not every one knoweth the truth to understand it,” answered the simple one.
“He still defieth us,” exclaimed Karl Weisel. Then, giving Hans Peter a cuff, he added, addressing him:
“Thou shalt spend the night in the cellar of the gasthaus, and if thou dost not speak so as to make it clear that thou dost share all thy knowledge with the elders and those in authority, thou shalt be put in the stocks.”
“Threaten not too hastily, Brother Weisel,” said the Herr Doktor. “Thou knowest the stocks have not been used these ten years, and the dismembered timbers pertaining to it are stored in the hay-loft of the gasthaus barn.”
“The stocks can be put together easily enough,” muttered Karl Weisel; and Hans Peter, turning his head as much as Adolph Schneider’s hold upon his ear permitted, said:
“The village fool feareth no punishment thou canst devise. Ye men of Zanah shall never get possession of Gerson Brandt’s Bible.”
“Hear! He defieth us!” cried Karl Weisel; and Adolph Schneider responded with an angry grunt, that he punctuated with a superfluous pinch administered to Hans Peter’s ear.
They reached the inn, where Diedrich Werther received them with his customary imperturbability.
“Hast thou a place in the cellar where thou canst lock up this culprit?” Karl Weisel inquired. At the same time the Herr Doktor pushed the simple one into the middle of the room.