am hungry and cold. I am alone in the world. All the
world seems buried in grief. I pray. There is no other hope save in
prayer!" she moaned, little thinking that it was her son who had
brought upon a nation so much desolation, and who at the same time was
about to be crowned by the revolutionists. As people passed, they
dropped money into her hand, and some led her a little way to a seat
where she could rest her weary body. She had become very old and
trembling since that night when she had last seen her son. She had
wandered from the old inn in search of him, and had never found him;
and she had no sooner left the old home than Bertha, saved from
Oberthal, had flown to the inn again, to throw herself into the strong
arms of her lover. She had found the place closed, for Faith and John
had gone, no one knew where.

After begging and praying in the public square, Faith found herself
near a sick and almost helpless man, close to the palace toward which
she had wandered. Many people were about. The Prophet was going to be
crowned, so it was rumoured. Among others, Bertha had wandered near.

"Thou poor, helpless brother," said Faith. "Let me, out of my poverty,
help thee a little." At the sound of that voice Bertha paused, turned,
and nearly shrieked. She had wandered alone and hopeless; and there
stood Faith, her lover's mother.

"Oh, dear mother!" she cried, and they threw themselves into each
other's arms.

"Oh, mother! How I sought for thee!" she sobbed. "Since you were not
to be found in Leyden, I turned myself toward Muenster, hoping against
hope to find you or John. Now take me to him. Let us go quickly!" she
urged, but old Faith held back.

"My child, he is dead. I heard a voice declare to me that I should see
him no more. It was an unseen voice. He is dead." Whereupon, both
women fell to weeping in each other's arms.

"It has to do with these wicked men who have brought ruin upon
Germany!--these Anabaptists!" Bertha cried. "Oh, John, if thou couldst
rise from thy grave and help me now. Thy courage and goodness would
raise up men to drive back these who do bad deeds in the name of God."

She cursed the famous Prophet, neither of them dreaming who he might
be, and that desolation had come because the man whom they loved best
had sought revenge for the wrongs done to them. With those curses in
their hearts, the forlorn women wandered on with the crowd toward the
cathedral where the Prophet was to be crowned.