'Unseated, all unseated!' answered the tailor, who stalked about the room examining himself. 'Your kinsman again slays his cattle and his swine with his own hands; and the good Knipperdolling, a learned man, and therefore not able to turn his hand to any thing useful, has become the official hangman, with which the poor man will still be able to procure a livelihood.' 'Good God!' exclaimed Alf, 'who has done this?' 'This wise transformation of our government proceeds from our chief prophet,' answered the tailor-judge. 'Since he, moved by the Spirit, ran through the streets in the condition of holy nature, he had not spoken a word, but made himself understood by writing; he was compelled to remain mute three days. When that time had elapsed he declared the new commands of the Spirit. Yesterday the honorable counsellors obediently laid down their offices, and today I have been installed with my lordly colleagues.' 'God preserve my reason!' cried Alf. 'By these mad movements and continual changes, I incur the danger of losing it.' 'Only be patient,' said the tailor mysteriously. 'Better things will come. I have already heard various whispers. Our prophet is not the man to stop half way. Think of what I told you when we were traveling to Munster; it is not yet the end of time! I must now leave you, as we judges are invited to a feast by the chief prophet. He marries, this day, the beautiful widow of his predecessor, the great Matthias. Farewell! I shall always remain friendly to you, and should I hereafter rise yet higher on the scale of honor, you will always find in me a patron and protector.' After one or two failures, the duodecemvir finally succeeded in passing himself and his new sword through the room door. 'Surely!' cried Alf impatiently, 'if this tailor-spirit is to set such vagabonds upon the judgment-seat of my native city, I may soon repent that I refused the crown. It would at least have given me the power to hinder many acts of madness.' CHAPTER VIII. Some time afterwards, Alf was sitting arm in arm with his Eliza in the family sitting-room, while Clara was spinning near the window, and moistening the thread with her bitter tears. Suddenly the door flew open, and in clattered a stout young trooper, who extended his hand to Alf, joyously exclaiming, 'God bless you, my dear school fellow! Do you not know me?' 'Hanslein of the long street!' cried Alf, embracing the friend of his youth. 'Welcome to Munster!' 'Hanslein of the long street?' asked the beautiful Eliza, with surprise and displeasure. 'How is this? were you not an episcopalian?'