He demanded Bertha, telling John how he had taken the two women and was carrying them to Haarlem when Bertha got away. Now he had Faith, the mother, and would keep her as hostage, unless Bertha was instantly given into his hands. Upon hearing that, John was distracted with grief. "Give her up, or I'll kill this old woman before thy eyes!" he declared brutally. John was torn between love for his old mother and for his sweetheart, and while he stood staring wildly at Oberthal the soldiers brought his mother in and were about to cleave her head in twain when Bertha tore the curtains apart. She could not let John sacrifice his mother for her. Oberthal fairly threw her into the arms of his soldiers, while the old mother stretched her arms toward John, who fell upon a seat with his head in his hands. Then, after the soldiers and Oberthal had gone, the poor old woman tried to comfort him, but his grief was so tragic that he could not endure it, and he begged her to go to her room and leave him alone for a time. Soon after she had gone out, John heard the strange chant of the Anabaptists. He raised his head and listened--that was like his dream--the sacred chant! "It is my dream," he said. Then he started up furiously. "It is my revenge. If those strange men should come again and ask----" And at that very moment they summoned him to the door. They knew what had passed, and believed it a good time to persuade him to join them. "Enter, enter, enter!" he cried, half beside himself with his grief; and the three strange creatures came in. "John of Leyden, we come to offer you a throne once more, and with it your revenge for what has happened here this night." "I will join thee for my revenge. I need no throne--but my revenge! I must have my revenge!" "Come, and thou shalt have it. Work henceforth as we direct, and as that sainted figure of David, beloved by those of Westphalia, and we promise you revenge against the whole nobility of Holland. Come!" "Aye--thou shalt be to Holland what Jeanne d'Arc was to France!" John went softly, yet quivering with hate and sorrow, to his mother's door. "She mutters a prayer in her sleep," he said, hesitating what to do, yet overwhelmed with misfortune and fury. "Thy revenge!" whispered Zacharia in his ear. John of Leyden looked at him darkly a moment, then: "Let us go," he said, and the four conspirators went softly from the old inn. ACT III At the close of day, at the foot of an ice-covered mountain, forests on every side, the Anabaptists were encamped in Westphalia. John of Leyden had gone to that part of Germany under the direction of Jonas, Mathison, and Zacharia, and being introduced to the people as a sainted man, all had fallen down and worshipped him and he had become a great power. So many had rallied round him that his army had become very large, and the nobles and their families were fleeing from it in consternation.