"If I were as crazy as you are," cried he, "I should throw down upon you the stones that you have thrown at me here, and my aim would be better than yours. But I will not contend with drunken men or do battle with people who are not responsible for their actions; all I ask of you is to give way and allow me to take this lady to her home."
The crowd maintained its place in a compact mass, and only replied by unintelligible words, from which, however, Johannes gathered that Ernestine's punishment was not yet considered sufficient, and that she was not to be allowed to escape so easily.
"I will pay you whatever you ask, if you will only afford Fräulein von Hartwich shelter until I have quieted this tumult," said Johannes to Keller.
"You'll get nothing out of me, sir! Neither money nor fine words will get her across my threshold."
"Mother, let her come in," suddenly cried a voice that had a wonderful effect upon the mob. Käthchen had slipped from her bed unperceived, and in her distress had run out to her mother. She threw her uninjured arm around Ernestine's knees, and looked up at her weeping. "They shall not hurt you; I love you so dearly!"
"Jesus Maria!" shrieked Frau Keller. "My child! my child!" She tore the little girl away from Ernestine, and, followed by her husband, carried her into the house.
"Do you want to kill yourself?" cried the father in despair.
"No! I want the lady, I want the lady," the child was still heard wailing from the room.
A commotion now began, which threatened to be serious indeed. "There, now, you see it with your own eyes,--the sick child even crawls out of bed to her. Don't you see now that she is bewitched? The Hartwich must leave the place this very day, or we'll hunt her out of the village."
"Men! men! for God's sake, what are you doing?" said a gentle voice behind Johannes.