clasped over his eyes; and
next he began to throw somersaults, both backward and forward, and threw
twenty-seven.

The people murmured, for the astrologer was old, and always before
had been halting of movement and at times even lame, but he was nimble
enough now and went on with his antics in the liveliest manner. Finally
he sprang lightly down and walked away, and passed up the road and
around the corner and disappeared. Then that great, pale, silent, solid
crowd drew a deep breath and looked into one another's faces as if
they said: "Was it real? Did you see it, or was it only I--and was I
dreaming?" Then they broke into a low murmur of talking, and fell apart
in couples, and moved toward their homes, still talking in that awed
way, with faces close together and laying a hand on an arm and making
other such gestures as people make when they have been deeply impressed
by something.

We boys followed behind our fathers, and listened, catching all we could
of what they said; and when they sat down in our house and continued
their talk they still had us for company. They were in a sad mood, for
it was certain, they said, that disaster for the village must follow
this awful visitation of witches and devils. Then my father
remembered that father Adolf had been struck dumb at the moment of his
denunciation.

"They have not ventured to lay their hands upon an anointed servant
of God before," he said; "and how they could have dared it this time I
cannot make out, for he wore his crucifix. Isn't it so?"

"Yes," said the others, "we saw it."

"It is serious, friends, it is very serious. Always before, we had a
protection. It has failed."

The others shook, as with a sort of chill, and muttered those words
over--"It has failed." "God has forsaken us."

"It is true," said Seppi Wohlmeyer's father; "there is nowhere to look
for help."

"The people will realize this," said Nikolaus's father, the judge, "and
despair will take away their courage and their energies. We have indeed
fallen upon evil times."

He sighed, and Wohlmeyer said, in a troubled voice: "The report of it
all will go about the country, and our village will be shunned as being
under the displeasure of God. The Golden Stag will know hard times."

"True, neighbor," said my father; "all of us will suffer--all in repute,
many in estate. And, good God!--"

"What is it?"

"That can come--to finish us!"

"Name it--um Gottes Willen!"

"The Interdict!"