in appearance to awaken all those powers of magisterial reproach and severity that lay dormant in the bailiff’s moral temperament, ready, at any time, to vindicate the right of the strong against the innovations of the feeble and unhappy.  The reader will at once have anticipated that the prisoners were Maso and his companions, who had been more successful in escaping from their keepers, than fortunate in evading the attempts to secure their persons a second time.

“Who are these that dare affront the ruling powers on this day of general good-will and rejoicing?” sternly demanded the bailiff, when the minions of the law and their captives stood fairly before him.  “Do ye not know, knaves, that this is a solemn, almost a religious ceremony at Vevey—­for so it would be considered by the ancients at least—­and that a crime is doubly a crime when committed either in an honorable presence, on a solemn and dignified occasion, like this, or against the authorities;—­this last being always the gravest and greatest of all?”

“We are but indifferent scholars, worshipful bailiff, as you may easily perceive by our outward appearance, and are to be judged leniently,” answered Maso.  “Our whole offence was a hot but short quarrel touching a dog, in which hands were made to play the part of reason, and which would have done little harm to any but ourselves, had it been the pleasure of the town authorities to have left us to decide the dispute in our own way.  As you well say, this is a joyous occasion, and we esteem it hard that we of all Vevey should be shut up on account of so light an affair, and cut off from the merriment of the rest.”

“There is reason in this fellow, after all,” said Peterchen, in a low voice.  “What is a dog more or less to Berne, and a public rejoicing to produce its end should go deep into the community.  Let the men go, of God’s name! and look to it, that all the dogs be beaten out of the square, that we have no more folly.”

“Please you, these are the men that have escaped from the authorities, after knocking down their keeper;” the officer humbly observed.

“How is this!  Didst thou not say, fellow, that it was all about a dog?”

“I spoke of the reason of our being shut up.  It is true that, wearied with breathing pent air, and a little heated with wine, we left the prison without permission; but we hope this little sally of spirit will be overlooked on account of the extraordinary occasion.”

“Rogue, thy plea augments the offence.  A crime committed on an extraordinary occasion becomes an extraordinary crime, and requires an extraordinary punishment, which I intend to see inflicted, forthwith.  You have insulted the authorities, and that is the unpardonable sin in all communities.  Draw nearer, friends, for I love to let my reasons be felt and understood by those who are to be affected by my decisions, and this is a happy moment, to give a short lesson to the Vevaisans—­let the bride and bridegroom wait—­draw nearer all, that ye may better hear what I have to say.”