The Wandering Jew — Volume 01 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 190 pages of information about The Wandering Jew — Volume 01.

Dagobert, having turned the dog into the room, shut the door after him, and advanced two steps on the landing-place, which was sufficiently spacious to hold several persons, and had in one corner a wooden bench with a back to it.  The burgomaster, as he ascended the last stair, was surprised to see Dagobert close the door of the chamber, as though he wished to forbid his entrance.  “Why do you shut that door?” asked he in an abrupt tone.

“First, because two girls, whom I have the charge of, are in bed in that room; secondly, because your examination would alarm them,” replied Dagobert.  “Sit down upon this bench, Mr. Burgomaster, and examine me here; it will not make any difference, I should think.”

“And by what right,” asked the judge, with a displeased air, “do you pretend to dictate to me the place of your examination?”

“Oh, I have no such pretension, Mr. Burgomaster!” said the soldier hastily, fearing above all things to prejudice the judge against him:  “only, as the girls are in bed, and already much frightened, it would be a proof of your good heart to examine me where I am.”

“Humph!” said the magistrate, with ill-humor; “a pretty state of things, truly!—­It was much worth while to disturb me in the middle of the night.  But, come, so be it; I will examine you here.”  Then, turning to the landlord, he added:  “Put your lantern upon this bench, and leave us.”

The innkeeper obeyed, and went down, followed by his people, as dissatisfied as they were at being excluded from the examination.  The veteran was left alone with the magistrate.


The judgement.

The worthy burgomaster of Mockern wore a cloth cap, and was enveloped in a cloak.  He sat down heavily on the bench.  He was a corpulent man, about sixty, with an arrogant, morose countenance; and he frequently rubbed with his red, fat fist, eyes that were still swollen and blood shot, from his having been suddenly roused from sleep.

Dagobert stood bareheaded before him, with a submissive, respectful air, holding his old foraging cap in his hands, and trying to read in the sullen physiognomy of his judge what chance there might be to interest him in his favor—­that is, in favor of the orphans.

In this critical juncture, the poor soldier summoned to his aid all his presence of mind, reason, eloquence and resolution.  He, who had twenty times braved death with the utmost coolness—­who, calm and serene, because sincere and tried, had never quailed before the eagle-glance of the Emperor, his hero and idol—­now felt himself disconcerted and trembling before the ill-humored face of a village burgomaster.  Even so, a few hours before, he had submitted, impassive and resigned, to the insults of the Prophet—­that he might not compromise the sacred mission with which a dying mother had entrusted him—­thus showing to what a height of heroic abnegation it is possible for a simple and honest heart to attain.

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The Wandering Jew — Volume 01 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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