His pen began racing over the paper with marvellous rapidity. I stood for a time watching him. Occasionally he would turn hastily the leaves of his well-thumbed Bible to verify a text; once he reached for the Reuchlin’s Hebrew Grammar. He speedily forgot my presence and wrote faster than ever. I saw him fling aside his first sheet. “_Upon the Babylonian Captivity of the Church_,” it read in Latin. Another thunderbolt to rock the Vatican. Knowing that I could do nothing more that day, I went to my pleasant hosts at the Castellan’s house. CHAPTER XXII THE FRIAR OF WITTENBERG ORDAINS It was a real home-coming which I had to the Regenstein. There seemed to be affection as well as loyalty in the welcome all gave me, from Adolf down to Wache, the great boar hound. Graf Moritz rode over from Blankenburg with a brotherly greeting. By painful economy and management he was putting his estates in tolerable order, and paying off his father’s debts to the Frankfort Jews, and I was glad to see his face growing less care-worn. A few days, however, after my return, an incident occurred which jarred me painfully. One afternoon as I sat writing in my cabinet a deputation of four of my chief dependants came scraping and bowing,--two petty nobles, and two well-to-do peasants, who rejoiced in the title of “Schöffe.” On my granting permission, the spokesman, a lean, long-winded rascal, entered upon a lengthy eulogium upon my gracious governance, but then added that my loving subjects had been much grieved by my repeated absences from the lordship, “the more especially as I had no direct heir for the Regenstein, and in event of any accident or foul hap, which God and the saints forefend!--the whole country would pass to my very distant kinsfolk in Brandenburg.” “And therefore?” I demanded. “That your most noble Grace will in benignity condescend to the loyal representations of your devoted liegemen, and speedily take to yourself a noble wife, who will be mother to a worthy posterity. The Graf von Wernigerode has two marriageable and comely daughters, and we do most humbly represent--” My Christian virtues had not been so cultivated at Wittenberg as to prevent my gorge from rising. “Hear you, sirrah!” I thundered. “Loyal subjects never masque as busybodies! I suffer you to pick your own wives--be as good to your Graf and master. When I would marry it will be time enough to have you in as my august councillors.” Four very sheepish “notables” shuffled out of my apartment. But the incident cut me to the quick, the more as I knew all the countryside was saying behind my back what these oafs had ventured to my face. In fact, Moritz on his second visit again blurted it out.