Luther started back for Saxony. All went well until he reached the Black Forest within the bounds of the domain of Frederick; when behold, the carriages and little group of horsemen were surrounded by an armed force of silent and determined men. Luther made a stout defense and was handled not over-gently. He was taken from his closed carriage and placed upon a horse--his friends and guard were ordered to be gone. The darkness of the forest swallowed Luther and his captors. News soon reached Wittenberg, and the students mourned him as dead. His enemies gloried in his disappearance, and everywhere told that he had been struck by the vengeance of God. Luther was lodged in the Castle of Wartburg, and all communication with the outside world cut off. The whole scheme was a diplomatic move on the part of the Elector. He expected a demand would be made for the arrest of the heretic. To anticipate this demand he arrested the man himself; and thus placed the matter in position to legally resist should the prisoner be demanded. The Elector was the Governor, and the Estate was what would be to us a State--the terms "state" and "estate" being practically the same word. It was the old question of State Rights, the same question that Hayne and Webster debated in Eighteen Hundred Thirty, and Grover Cleveland and John P. Altgeld fought over in Eighteen Hundred Ninety-four. The Elector Frederick prepared for a legal battle, and would defy the "Federal Arm" by force if worse came to worst. Luther remained a prisoner for seven months, and so closely guarded was he that he only knew by inference that his keepers were his friends. The Elector was discreet: he held no personal communication with Luther. In December, Fifteen Hundred Twenty-one, the prisoner was allowed to go to Wittenberg on a three-days' parole. When he appeared at the University he came as one from the dead. The event was too serious for student jollification; many were struck dumb with astonishment and glad tears of joy were upon every cheek--and by common consent all classes were abandoned, and a solemn service of thanksgiving held in the church, upon the door of which, four years before, this little college professor had tacked his Theses. All understood now that Luther was a prisoner--he must go back to his prison. He admonished his hearers to be patient, but to be firm; cleave to what they believed to be right, even though it led to the scaffold. He administered the sacrament, and through that congregation, and throughout Saxony, and throughout all Germany ran the vow, silent, solemn and serious, that Martin Luther's defiance of Papal authority was right. The Church was made for man and not man for the Church--and come what may, this man Luther must be protected even though the gutters ran with blood. When would his trial occur? Nobody knew--but there would be no haste.