THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
front of the house on the street. I knocked at the door and found myself soon in a plain but very comfortably furnished room with the priest before me. He was a young man, perhaps thirty-five years old; a robust figure and a well-formed head, with lively penetrating eyes. I tried to assume a severe martial attitude, and acquainted him at once, in short words, with my charge, put my hand upon his shoulder, as was customary in making an arrest, and called him my prisoner. To my astonishment he broke out in a merry laugh, which seemed quite genuine.
“You want to arrest me,” he exclaimed; “that is nice. You are evidently a university student. I have been the same, and understand this sort of thing; the whole story is only a joke. Drink a bottle of wine with me.” Thereupon he opened the door of the room and called to a servant to bring wine.
I did not like to be at once discovered as a university student, and resented that my mien of official authority should not impress him. So I said in as severe a tone as possible, “Reverend sir, this is not a joke. You have hindered in your parish the organization of the army; such treasonable conduct cannot be permitted by the provisional government. In the name of that provisional government I have arrested you. You must follow me; do not hesitate to obey. Your house is surrounded by soldiers; do not oblige me to use force!”
“Force! We will see about that!” he exclaimed, and in his eyes there gleamed something like anger and defiance, but he controlled himself, and continued in a serious but quiet tone: “There cannot be so much hurry about this that you may not listen to a word from me. Here is the girl with the wine, and if I must follow you, permit me at least to drink a glass with you, to your health. It is true I have warned my poor peasant boys not to enter the army and to expose them-
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