here were three of them," was echoed on every
hand, and all eyes sought for the missing one in the crowd.

"The third one has run away, sir," reported Forchhaem.

"What's his name?" asked Seicht.

Nobody knew.

A street boy, looking up at the official, ingenuously cried, "'Twas a
Tartar."

Seicht looked down upon the obstreperous little informant.

"A Tartar--do you know him?"

"No; but these here know him," pointing to the captives.

"What is the name of your comrade?"

"We don't know him," was the surly reply.

"Never mind, he will become known in the judicial examination. Off to
jail with these rebellious ultramontanes," the official commanded.

Bound in chains, and guarded by a posse of police, these honest men,
whose religious sense had been so wantonly outraged as to have
occasioned an outburst of noble indignation, were marched through the
streets of the town and imprisoned. They were treated as criminals for
a crime, however, the guilt of which was justly chargeable to those
very rioters who were enjoying official protection.

The procession moved on to the ground selected for the barbecue. A
motley mass, especially of factory-men, were hard at work upon the
scene. The booths, spread far and wide over the common, were thrown
open, and around them moved a swarm of thirsty beings drawing rations
of beer and sausages, with which, when they had received them, they
staggered away to the tables. Degraded-looking women were also to be
seen moving about unsteadily with brimming mugs of beer in their hands.
There were several bands of music stationed at different points around
the place.

The chieftains of progress, perambulating the ground with an air of
triumph, bestowed friendly nods of recognition on all sides, and
condescendingly engaged in conversation with some of the rank and file.

Hans Shund approached the awning where the woman with the bare
shoulders and indecent costume had taken a seat. She had captivated the
gallant chief magistrate, who hovered about her as a raven hovers over
a dead carcass. Moving off, he halted within hearing distance, and,
casting frequent glances back, addressed immodest jokes to those who
occupied the other side of the table, at which they laughed and
applauded immoderately.

The men whom Seraphin had met in the subterranean den, on the memorable
night before the election, were also present: Flachsen, Graeulich,
Koenig, and a host of others. They were regaling the