"Hey! John, bring beer," a soldier called merrily. "Let us eat, drink and—" At that moment Jonas, followed by the other Anabaptists, appeared at the inn.
"John! who is John?" they inquired of the soldier.
"John! John!" first one, then another called. "Here are some gentlemen who want beer—although they are very unlikely looking chaps," some one added, under his breath, looking the three fellows over. John came in to take orders, but his mind was elsewhere.
"It is near night—and they have not come," he kept thinking. "I wonder if anything can have happened to them! Surely not! My mother is old, but she is lively on her feet, and on her way home she would have the attention of Bertha. Only I should feel better to see them just now."
"Come, come, John! Beer!" the soldier interrupted, and John started from his reverie. As he went to fetch the beer, Jonas too started. Then he leaned toward Mathison.
"Do you notice anything extraordinary about that man—John of the inn?" he asked. The two other Anabaptists regarded the innkeeper closely.
"Yes! He is the image of David—the saint in Münster, whose image is so worshipped by the Westphalians. They believe that same saint has worked great miracles among them," Zacharia answered, all the while watching John as he moved about among the tables.
"Listen to this! Just such a man was needed to complete our success. This man's strong, handsome appearance and his strange likeness to that blessed image of those absurd Westphalians is enough to make him a successful leader. We'll get hold of him, call him a prophet, and the business is done. With him to lead and we to control him, we are likely to own all Holland presently. He is a wonder!" And they put their heads together and continued to talk among themselves. Then Jonas turned to one of the guests.
"Say, friend, who is this man?"
"He is the keeper of this inn," was the answer. "He has an excellent heart and a terrible arm."