The Progressionists, and Angela. Part 24

"Brigadier Forchhaem," cried Mr. Seicht, in a tone of command--"Forchhaem, hither! Put handcuffs on these ultramontanes, these disturbers of the peace--put irons on these revolutionists."

Handcuffs were forthwith produced by the policemen. The towering, broad-shouldered Holt stood quiet as a lamb, looked with an air of astonishment at the confusion, and suffered himself to be handcuffed.

His comrades, however, behaved like anything but lambs. They laid about them with hands and feet, knocking down the policemen, and giving b.l.o.o.d.y mouths and noses to all who came within their reach.

"Handcuff us!" they screamed, grinding their teeth, bleeding and cursing. "Are we cutthroats?" The bystanders drew back in apprehension.

The confusion seemed to be past remedying. A thousand voices were screaming, bawling, and crying at the same time; the circle around the struggling countrymen was getting wider and wider; and when finally they attempted to break through, the crowd took to flight, as if a couple of tigers were after them.

Many of the spectators found a pleasurable excitement in watching the battle between the policemen and the peasants; but they would not move a finger to aid the officers of the law in arresting the culprits. They admired the agility and strength of the countrymen, and the more fierce the struggle became, the greater grew their delight, and the louder their merriment.

Holt had been carried on with the motion of the crowd. When he dealt the blow to the fellow in the car, he was beside himself with rage. The genuine _furor teutonicus_ had taken possession of him so irresistibly and so bewilderingly as to leave him utterly without any of the calm judgment necessary to measure the situation. After his first adventure, he had submitted to be handcuffed, and had watched the struggle between Forchhaem and his own comrades in a sort of absence of mind. He had stood perfectly quiet, his face had become pale, and his eyes looked about strangely. The excitement of pa.s.sion was now beginning to wear off. He felt the cold iron of the manacles around his wrists, his eyes glared, his face became crimson, the sinews of his powerful arm stiffened, and with one great muscular convulsion he wrenched off the handcuffs. n.o.body had observed this sudden action, all eyes being directed to the combatants. Shoving the part of the handcuff which still hung to his wrist under the sleeve of his jacket, Holt disappeared through the crowd.

The resistance of the peasants was gradually becoming fainter. At length they succ.u.mbed to overpowering force, and were handcuffed.

"Where is the third one?" cried Seicht. "There were three of them."

"Where is the third one? There 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.

n.o.body 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 n.o.ble 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 ma.s.s, 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 br.i.m.m.i.n.g 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 carca.s.s. 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 themselves with sausages which omitted an unmistakable odor of garlic, and were of a very dubious appearance; interrupting the process of eating with frequent and copious draughts from their beer-mugs.

"Drink, old woman!" cried Graeulich to his wife. "Drink, I tell you! It doesn't cost us anything to-day."

The woman put the jug to her lips and drained it manfully. Other women who were present screamed in chorus, and the men laughed boisterously.

"Your old woman does that handsomely," applauded Koth. "h.e.l.l and thunder! But she must be a real spitfire."

Again they laughed uproariously.

"I wish there were an election every day, what a jolly life this would be!" said Koenig. "Nothing to do, eating and drinking gratis--what more would you wish?"

"That's the way the bigbugs live all the year round. They may eat and drink what they like best, and needn't do a hand's turn. Isn't it glorious to be rich?" cried Graeulich.

"So drink, boys, drink till you can't stand! We are all of us big-bugs to-day."

"And if things were regulated as they should be," said Koth, "there would come a day when we poor devils would also see glorious times. We have been torturing ourselves about long enough for the sake of others.

I maintain that things will have to be differently regulated."

"What game is that you are wishing to come at? Show your hand, old fellow!" cried several voices.

"Here's what I mean: Coffers which are full will have to pour some of their superfluity into coffers which are empty. You take me, don't you?"

"'Pon my soul, I can't make you out. You are talking conundrums,"

declared Koenig.

"You blockhead, I mean there will soon have to be a part.i.tion. They who have plenty will have to give some to those who have nothing."

"Bravo! Long live Koth!"

"That sort of doctrine is dangerous to the state," said Flachsen. "Such principles bring about revolutions, and corrupt society."

"What of society! You're an a.s.s, Flachsen! Koth is right--part.i.tion, part.i.tion!" was the cry all round the table.

"As you will! I have nothing against it if only it were practicable,"

expostulated Flachsen; "for I, too, am a radical."

"It is practicable! All things are practicable," exclaimed Koth. "Our age can do anything, and so can we. Haven't we driven religion out of the schools? Haven't we elected Shund for mayor? It is the majority who rule; and, were we to vote in favor of part.i.tion to-morrow, part.i.tion would have to take place. Any measure can be carried by a majority, and, since we poor devils are in the majority, as soon as we will have voted for part.i.tion it will come without fail."

"That's sensible!" agreed they all. "But then, such a thing has never yet been done. Do you think it possible?"

"Anything is possible," maintained Koth. "Didn't Shund preach that there isn't any G.o.d, or h.e.l.l, or devil? Was that ever taught before? If the G.o.d of old has to submit to being deposed, the rich will have to submit to it. I tell you, the majority will settle the business for the rich. And if there's no G.o.d, no devil, and no life beyond, well then, you see, I'm capable of laying my hand to anything. If voting won't do, violence will. Do you understand?"

"Bravo! Hurrah for Koth!"

"There must be progress," cried Graeulich, "among us as well as others.

We are not going to continue all our lives in wretchedness. We must advance from labor to comfort without labor, from poverty to wealth, from want to abundance. Three cheers for progress--hurrah! hurrah!", And the whole company joined in frantically.

"There comes Evangelist Seicht," cried Koenig. "Though I didn't understand one word of his speech, I believe he meant well. Although he is an officer of the government, he cordially hates priests. A man may say what he pleases against religion, and the church, and the Pope, and the Jesuits, it rather pleases Seicht. He is a free and enlightened man, is he. Up with your gla.s.ses, boys; if he comes near, let's give him three rousing cheers."

They did as directed. Men and women cheered l.u.s.tily. Seicht very condescendingly raised his hat and smiled as he pa.s.sed the table. The ovation put him in fine humor. Though he had failed in securing a place in the a.s.sembly, perhaps the slight would be repaired in the future. Such was the tenor of his thoughts whilst he advanced to the climbing-pole, around which was a.s.sembled a crowd of boys. Quite a variety of prizes, especially tobacco-pipes, was hanging from the cross-pieces at the top of the mast. The pole was so smooth that more than ordinary strength and activity were required to get to the top.

The greater number of those who attempted the feat gave out and slid back without having gained a prize. There were also grown persons standing around watching the efforts of the boys and young men.