Some of his suite had already gone into the church, but many were
arriving in a grand procession. The appearance of the Prophet's guard
aroused great indignation among the citizens, who were compelled to
look on helplessly.

Then came the Prophet himself, garbed all in white, from head to foot,
and a wonderful march was being played, while the spectacle grew each
moment more and more magnificent.

[Music]

As John the Prophet passed, the revolutionary crowd threw themselves
at his feet; young girls strewed flowers in his path, the choir
chanted. Then, the Anabaptists having deposed the Elector Princes,
were to take their places. The Prophet was anointed with holy oil, a
great and impressive ceremony took place, and all the city rang with
the cries that proclaimed him king. Faith and Bertha could not see the
new king, but they were in the crowd, and they cursed this Prophet
again--none so vigorously as Bertha, while Faith hailed her as a new
Judith. After a time, all being prostrate upon their knees awaiting
the reentrance of the Prophet from the church, John appeared upon the
great staircase which led from the cathedral. As he stood there
looking unhappily upon all of those abased people who seemed to be
worshipping him, he thought he heard the voice of his dream of long
ago. "Woe through thee! Let him be accursed!" Overcome by the memory,
he uttered those words aloud. Faith heard the voice and screamed:

"My son! my son!" John of Leyden trembled and started toward her, his
arms outstretched, but Mathison, knowing the disastrous effect such
an acknowledgment would have upon the crowd who believed him of holy
origin, said in a low voice to John:

"Speak! reply to her, and she shall die, instantly! Deny thy mother,
or she shall be killed before thine eyes." The Anabaptists had no mind
to lose all they had risked so much for, when it was just within their
grasp. John looked at his mother, in agony and then he regained his
self-possession.

"Who is this woman?" he asked: it was to save her life that he did it.

At that cold denial of her, Faith clasped her hands and wept. Then she
became enraged at his ingratitude, and began to upbraid him.

"This poor wretch is mad," he said, but by that time the crowd was
beginning to murmur against him.

"He said he was the son of God! He is an impostor." The Anabaptists
seeing how fatal the effect of Faith's words was going to be, spoke
menacingly to John. Then John cried,