“Stop the ringing of the bells,” cried out the commissioner to the bell-ringers.
“Ring away!” exclaimed a sturdy, well-dressed farmer who had closely followed the commissioner. “Continue to ring; the bells are ours; there is fire!”
“I am the police commissioner,” said the officer sternly. “I am here by the command of the government, and I repeat my orders to stop at once the ringing of the bells!”
“And I am the burgomaster of this place, and repeat that the bells shall be rung,” replied the angry and excited villager. “You have no right to command here, and much less in the church. When the whole parish is assembled, the bells shall be stopped, not before.”
The commissioner ground his teeth. He quailed before the determined aspect of the burgomaster, and returned to the priest’s house. There his anger changed into fear. The large yard before the house, the surrounding walls, and the street were thickly covered with people. He saw threatening looks and fierce eyes glaring upon him when he ascended the steps. The crowd was as yet quiet, but already there were signs of a coming storm.
The police commissioner unceremoniously entered the presence of Prince Joseph von Eberstein, the Jesuit father.
“There, look!” he exclaimed rudely. “That is your work—open rebellion against the government!”
“Pardon me, Herr Commissioner,” replied the priest calmly; “how could I have caused the tumult, since I had no knowledge of your coming?”
“You have nevertheless incited the people to revolt against the government, and here is the result of your teaching!”