“Gentlemen,” said Morgenroth to the men assembled, “since we are not permitted to proceed with our deliberations, [pg 547] we will separate, with a protest against this brutal terrorism.”
“But, commissary,” said a much frightened man, “how are we to get away? These people are infuriated; they will tear us in pieces.”
“Fear nothing, gentlemen; follow me,” spoke the commissary, leading the way.
The ultramontanes were hailed with a loud burst of scornful laughter. The commissary, advancing to the gate, beckoned silence.
“In the name of the law, clear the place!” cried he.
The mob scoffed and yelled.
“Fetch out the slaves of the priest—make them run the gauntlet—down with the Jesuits!”
At this moment, a man was noticed elbowing his way through the crowd; presently Hans Shund stepped before the embarrassed guardian of public order.
“Three cheers for the magistrate!” vociferated the mob.
Shund made a signal. Profound silence followed.