“Surely no one in all Zanah would see Gerson Brandt put into the stocks,” said Mother Werther, taking her place beside Adolph Schneider. “For shame, brethren and sisters of Zanah! Give Hans Peter his liberty.” “We demand the release of the simple one,” said the vineyard workers. “Let him go! Let him go!” “Gerson Brandt, thine offer to take Hans Peter’s place in the stocks is an insult to thy high office as an elder of Zanah,” said the Herr Doktor. “I will accede to the wishes of the people. Thou canst liberate the village fool.” Adolph Schneider turned to go into the inn, and Stephen Everett, who had been watching the strange scene from the corner of the porch, went out into the square to offer aid to Gerson Brandt. The school-master had acted quickly, and before Everett reached the stocks Hans Peter’s feet were free. Everett loosed the simple one’s hands and raised him to an upright position. Hans Peter was so stiff that he fell upon the rude platform. “He is exhausted. I will take him into the inn,” said Everett, addressing Walda, who was leaning over the prostrate form of Hans Peter. “I know that thou wilt minister to him, and that thou wilt restore his senses. See, he hath swooned!” “I will take care of him. You can trust me to see that he is made comfortable,” Everett promised. “Yea, I always trust thee, Stephen.” The man and woman bending over the form of the simple one looked into each other’s eyes for a second. Then Everett lifted Hans Peter in his arms, carried him down the steps, and, passing through the crowd, disappeared within the door of the inn. Standing upon the platform of the stocks, Walda looked after them until the inn-door had closed. Turning, she beheld Gerson Brandt staring at her with terror in his eyes. He was ghastly pale, and his thin nostrils were widely dilated with the quickness of his breathing. “Art thou ill, Gerson Brandt?” she asked. “Nay, I have my usual health. Just now, fear clutcheth at my heart.” “Fear, Gerson Brandt? Thou wert ever brave. What is it that thou couldst fear?” “A shadow was cast over me. It hath passed.” Gerson Brandt stooped to pick up his hat, and motioned to Walda to pass down the steps before him. As Walda walked through the square the people bowed before her, in token of their recognition that she was, indeed, the prophetess, for it was whispered that the stranger from the outside world had given his word to Adolph Schneider that he would pay twice the value of the Bible on condition that Hans Peter should not be further punished. XIV