Then he went away, leaving us very much troubled, and wondering what he could mean.  In about an hour we found out; for by that time it was all over the village that Father Peter had been arrested for stealing a great sum of money from the astrologer.  Everybody’s tongue was loose and going.  Many said it was not in Father Peter’s character and must be a mistake; but the others shook their heads and said misery and want could drive a suffering man to almost anything.  About one detail there were no differences; all agreed that Father Peter’s account of how the money came into his hands was just about unbelievable—­it had such an impossible look.  They said it might have come into the astrologer’s hands in some such way, but into Father Peter’s, never!  Our characters began to suffer now.  We were Father Peter’s only witnesses; how much did he probably pay us to back up his fantastic tale?  People talked that kind of talk to us pretty freely and frankly, and were full of scoffings when we begged them to believe really we had told only the truth.  Our parents were harder on us than any one else.  Our fathers said we were disgracing our families, and they commanded us to purge ourselves of our lie, and there was no limit to their anger when we continued to say we had spoken true.  Our mothers cried over us and begged us to give back our bribe and get back our honest names and save our families from shame, and come out and honorably confess.  And at last we were so worried and harassed that we tried to tell the whole thing, Satan and all—­but no, it wouldn’t come out.  We were hoping and longing all the time that Satan would come and help us out of our trouble, but there was no sign of him.

Within an hour after the astrologer’s talk with us, Father Peter was in prison and the money sealed up and in the hands of the officers of the law.  The money was in a bag, and Solomon Isaacs said he had not touched it since he had counted it; his oath was taken that it was the same money, and that the amount was eleven hundred and seven ducats.  Father Peter claimed trial by the ecclesiastical court, but our other priest, Father Adolf, said an ecclesiastical court hadn’t jurisdiction over a suspended priest.  The bishop upheld him.  That settled it; the case would go to trial in the civil court.  The court would not sit for some time to come.  Wilhelm Meidling would be Father Peter’s lawyer and do the best he could, of course, but he told us privately that a weak case on his side and all the power and prejudice on the other made the outlook bad.

So Marget’s new happiness died a quick death.  No friends came to condole with her, and none were expected; an unsigned note withdrew her invitation to the party.  There would be no scholars to take lessons.  How could she support herself?  She could remain in the house, for the mortgage was paid off, though the government and not poor Solomon Isaacs had the mortgage-money in its grip for the present.  Old Ursula, who was cook, chambermaid, housekeeper, laundress, and everything else for Father Peter, and had been Marget’s nurse in earlier years, said God would provide.  But she said that from habit, for she was a good Christian.  She meant to help in the providing, to make sure, if she could find a way.