"Very well. I am satisfied. Do thou take my mother to a place of safety. I shall be at the feast," he said significantly. Embracing his mother, he handed her into the care of the astonished guard, and left the dungeon.
Nothing could have been more magnificent than the banquet prepared for the coronation. The tables were loaded with golden dishes, and young women passed, scattering flowers, while pages in gay dress ran hither and thither. There, John entered, and sat apart, as had been arranged. He was pale and sad. All was gaiety about him, but he had prepared an awful fate for his betrayers. In the vaults of the palace were stored powder and firearms of all sorts. Just above those vaults was the banqueting room, which had great iron gates closed at one end. The company could only leave the room by those gates. John of Leyden had brought two officers whom he could trust into the hall with him, and unheard, he commanded them to close and lock the gates as soon as the Anabaptists Zacharia, Mathison, and Jonas, with Oberthal, the great power of Münster and the Bishops—all who were his enemies and to whom the Anabaptists meant to betray him—were assembled.
Then the feast began. All hailed the Prophet in loud voices, pretending great affection and faith in him. In the midst of a dance by which the guests were entertained, Faith, whom he thought quite safe, entered. She knew what he had done—that he meant to blow up the palace by firing the vaults below, and she had determined to die with her son. The Prophet had not yet seen her.
The Anabaptists and John's enemies spoke apart, and John watched them cynically. He knew well what they intended, and that he had them trapped.
"Now close the gates," he said in a low voice to his officers. "Lock them." He had not seen his mother. When the gates were closed, he turned smilingly to the company. He called for wine.
"Let us drink!" he cried. Then Oberthal rose and shouted:
"Thou art mine, great Prophet! Surrender thyself." Still the Prophet smiled at them. Jonas then cried:
"Yes, thou tyrant—thou art betrayed. We have thee fast! Surrender!"
"Oh, ye poor creatures," he answered. "Listen! do ye hear nothing?" Still smiling upon them, as they stared at him, they heard a strange rumbling below. The train he had laid to blow up the palace had fired the powder.
"Thy time has come!" John of Leyden cried, and the vast hall began to fill with smoke and powder fumes. Riot reigned, and just at that moment Faith, her gray hair streaming about her, pushed through the crowd and threw herself into her son's arms. He gave a great cry of agony.