know
it at last? You sowed the seed by handfuls, and therefore the harvest
cannot much surprise you. The wrath of Heaven lies heavy on us; the
sentence could not be more severe. The city is declared to have
forfeited its right of jurisdiction, and of electing its own council,
the fief and land-court of the principality is removed to Jauer, and
the punishment of the council, and others, for the execution of
Tausdorf, the Emperor has reserved to himself peculiarly. In a short
time we may expect the Emperor's delegate, who, in his name, will
annul our council, and conduct the further proceedings against us."

In silence they listened to these evil tidings, in silence they
remained sitting, when the Syndic had ceased to speak, all equally
overwhelmed by the heavy fate that was hurrying upon them. Their eyes
only, which were fixed on the burgomaster, expressed the reproaches
they intended him. In the meantime the secretary had drawn from his
portfolio the imperial decree, and taking it from its double envelope,
now laid it with a condoling gesture on the table before Erasmus, who
first glanced hastily below at the Emperor's seal and subscription, and
then attempted to read. But he could not accomplish it; he still
gazed on the first side, and soon his eyes stared vacantly from the
paper on the air. The Vice-Consul was on the point of wakening him from
this lethargy of the spirit, when the city-marshal rushed into the room
with a face of horror. And now Erasmus started up from his
stupefaction.--"Another Job's post," he exclaimed; "I read it in your
countenance: but speak it out; we have already heard the worst; what is
still to come cannot much affect us."

"Would to heaven it were so!" replied the bailiff. "My tidings concern
you in particular, Mr. Burgomaster. Your son Christopher has been found
dead in his night-clothes, in the well of his garden."

A cry of horror burst from the lips of all present, and the old Erasmus
clasped his long thin hands.--"My last!" he exclaimed piteously--then
suddenly, in a louder voice, he added, "Thou art just, O God!" and his
head, with its silver locks, fell back, so that it hung over the elbow
of his chair.

The council crowded about him in terror. The vice-consul looked at the
old man's broken eyes, felt his pulse, and cried with deep emotion, "He
is dead!"

"He who does not walk in fear, does not please God!" cried Caspar, in
his dark fanaticism, with the words of Sirach.

"De