"Let the people rage, my worthy friend," replied the other. "It is not for us to interfere in such matters. She is not worthy of our protection, and the just indignation of the people will find vent in words, that will not harm her, but that it will be well for her to hear. _Vox populi, vox Dei!_" "True, true," assented the other. "We should not interfere with the public sense of right in such a case. She would not listen to us. Let her hear the truth from the mouths of the peasants; perhaps it will have more effect upon her coming from them than from men of culture like ourselves!" "Let us hope so," said the Catholic father devoutly, as he seated himself by his Protestant colleague at an empty table, and filled his glass from the bottle of old wine that the host placed before him. "What is that?" asked Johannes softly, as a distant hum of approaching voices was heard. He sat with his hand still patiently supporting Käthchen's head, and would not draw it away, lest he should awaken the child. The schoolmaster went on tiptoe to the window and looked out. "I cannot tell what is the matter," he said. "An excited crowd is rushing to and fro in the street, but I cannot see who they are or what it is all about." "The people have not recovered from the event of this morning," said Johannes. Meanwhile the noise drew near. Various abusive words were heard, and it seemed as if stones were thrown and fell upon the pavement. Shrill female voices cried quite distinctly, "Not in here!" "Go away!" "Put her out!" Boys shouted and whistled through it all. "Good heavens!" cried the schoolmaster, "they are persecuting a lady! Oh, yes! Herr Professor, look! she is trying to escape into the houses! The women thrust her out and shut their doors upon her----" "Brutes!" exclaimed Johannes, beside himself with rage, for one glance from the window had shown him how matters stood. "Holy Maria! they are throwing stones and apples at her!" cried Frau Keller. Johannes had rushed from the room as the schoolmaster turned towards him with the words, "It is Fräulein von Hartwich!" But, just as Johannes reached the stairs, Keller burst in, pale and agitated, and locked the door after him. "What do you mean?" cried Johannes. "Do you wish to shut me in here?" "Ah, sir!" implored Keller, blocking up the passage, "do not open it,--the Hartwich wants to come in----" "Well, then, let her in instantly! why do you delay?" "For God's sake, keep her out!" said Keller. "Are you mad," cried Johannes, "that you would close your doors upon a fellow-being imploring protection? Open the door, or I will force the lock." "Sir, sir, my house is my own, if I am only a poor peasant!" cried Keller still blocking the entrance. "This is the abode of honest labour, and no accursed foot shall cross its threshold."