"He operates not through pressure of fear or force, but through the superiority of his mind, which must be perceptible to all.
"He is the regulator of the labor of men, teaching them how to bring forth and to distribute in such manner that none may have overflow while others suffer scarcity; and also that none may be idle while others overwork. He plans and confirms the bond through which each finds his place in the great family, so that life becomes fine and orderly and easy, like the figures of a well-drilled dance.
"Such is the King of men. His power is given him, not through the unreasoning, capricious fancy of the undeveloped who are the slaves of custom and of idle, impressionable fear, but through the reasonable views of the multitude who follow and honor, in him, their own best self.
"He moves not in the splendor of external pomp, neither wears he a golden crown; but around his head streams, visible to all, the grace of God, which is wisdom, love, and beauty."
When Markus had said this, people here and there began to be restless. The master of ceremonies indicated that enough had been said, and sent one lackey to the choir-conductor to ask why, according to regulations, there was no singing, and another lackey to the door to see if the carriages were in waiting.
But the carriages were not yet there, and the children who were to sing the chorus now in order, remained, with perplexed faces and open mouths, gazing at that strange figure speaking as if out of the sky in such a marvelous voice. The conductor failed to attract their attention, and realized that all his painstaking, studious preparations for the song were useless.
Markus paid not the slightest heed to the increasing unrest and nervousness, nor to the commanding gestures of the irritated master of ceremonies that he cease speaking; instead, he now raised his voice until it reverberated from the high vaultings:
"Where is he, that King of men?
"Where is the people's King? Where is the people's Queen – his peer – who supports and supplements him?
"Seek them, ye unhappy ones! Never so much as now have you had need of them.
"Seek them in every land; for misery and ugliness and barrenness and confusion are not much longer to be endured.
"Seek them in the city and in the country. Seek them also in the alleys and in the hovels. Yes, seek them in the prisons and in the places of execution. For even so great is your confusion."
Then, bending his head toward the royal pair below, and fastening upon them and the surrounding group of splendid notables his flashing glance, Markus shouted in vehement, resounding tones:
"But seek them not here. Has the light of the grace of God pointed hither?
"Has the grace of God become here evident to all, like a shining aureole of wisdom and love and beauty?
"What children and mischief-makers you are – you there, with your robes of state, and your badges of dignity, – that you think to create a king without the manifestation of the grace of God!
"Deluded by an empty sound, by a dynastic name, you in your ignorance would proclaim, 'Here is a king, and here therefore must God's grace be manifested, for even so we wish it to be.'
"Would you, like mischief-makers and frivolous bugle-blowers, dictate to your God, and show Him where to bestow His grace?
"Who has beheld in this pair of wretched human beings the wisdom, beauty, love, and power which are the visible tokens of God's elect?
"Do you not tremble, then, at the fearful responsibility you take upon yourselves, and put also upon these two pitiable people, by this blasphemous child's-play?"
The excitement now became more serious. That the King and Queen, counts and barons, generals, court marshals, state counselors and ministers should be called mischief-makers and frivolous bugle-blowers, was not to be tolerated.
The King grew red, coughed in his glove, and looked angrily at the master of ceremonies. The Queen, on the contrary, grew pale, and nervously fingered the folds of her heavy, white-satin train. Half turning round, a quick-witted courtier beckoned to the organist, and shouted: "Music!" A general – Johannes recognized him as one of the "Pleiades" – in an attempt at guarding his Rulers, cried out with all the dramatic importance and bluffness of a war-charge:
"Silence, miscreant!"
But it had to be admitted that this sounded more ridiculous than impressive. And not one of the courtiers, officers, or magistrates felt individually powerful enough to set himself by voice and bearing against that forceful speaker. Each felt that he would appear theatrical. And the man in the grey cloak, up above there, was not that. Besides, the assembly gave no countenance to such effort, and was, like every great gathering of people, under the influence of the most powerful personality.
At last, the organist comprehended what was desired of him in this critical situation, and drawing out all the stops he sent forth a heavy peal of trembling sound. In the meantime, two policemen were despatched aloft to silence the undesirable speaker.
But the majestic music rang out upon the words of Markus as if in solemn confirmation. So at least it seemed to Johannes, and to many others in the church. Markus ceased speaking, and appeared to be listening, pensively.
The policemen returned without having attained their object. The gallery could only be reached by climbing over a great beam, having broken and decayed supports, one hundred feet above the floor. The officers, becoming dizzy, lost their zest for the affair, and the firemen had to be sent for.
The music stopped again, and yet there was no continuance of the ceremonies. Markus still stood calmly in his elevated place, looking down upon the throng below with that sad expression of countenance which Johannes knew so well. And yet again, softer, but with keen and cutting penetration:
"Oh, ye poor, poor people! Slaves of the devil, called custom!
"You know no better, and cannot do otherwise. You mean to perform your duty, and to reach that which is good and holy.
"How would you possibly find your King? And how would you maintain order – holy order – without these two people; without him whom you happen to have named your king, as you might have named some foundling?
"But notwithstanding you have felt, every one of you, that I spoke the truth just now, you yet will continue this unblushing lie because you dare not do otherwise, and because you know no other way.
"But bethink yourselves, unhappy beings! Cowardice and weakness shall not excuse you, if, knowing the lie, you adhere to it, and, seeing the truth, you accept it not.
"What you endure is indeed terrible. I esteem you still more worthy of pity than the neglected people out of whose misery you have extracted your splendor.
"You have burdened this poor pair of human beings with royalty – a power befitting only the strongest and the wisest among men.
"Thus do you crush their weak spirits under a weight which only the strongest can bear. You desecrate the name of King – you blaspheme against God, whose grace is not subject to your command.
"You dazzle your bewildered people with a blinding glare, as if they truly had a king. But it is an idle puppet-show, to comply with a hollow peace and a defective method. There is none among you who has the wisdom and the might to lead this people into righteousness; and yet you bear all the responsibility for their confusion, their ignorance, their crudeness, and their misery.
"And they are the least guilty, because, in working for your luxury, they miss the opportunity to learn.
"But you pride yourselves upon your knowledge and your refinement. You know how the industrious lack food, and the rich have the privilege of idleness. You know how an over-abundance flows to you from the deprivations of the neglected. You know the injustice of all this, and yet permit it. And on these two unfortunates you impose the responsibility and the lie.
"But you know – and you shall not be justified!
"And you, two unfortunates, corrupted by the burden of your imposed greatness – poor man, poor, poor little woman! The superhuman power to break the spell of lies round about you will not be yours. May the Good Father, who hath not poured out His grace upon you, encompass you with His compassion."
Just then an excited young adjutant drew out a revolver, and cried, "He insults the Queen!"
A more moderate diplomat, fearing a panic, held back his hand. The cry "He insults the Queen!" was repeated at the entrance to the church. And an uproar was heard outside, for, at the coming of the firemen, the waiting crowds had overheard something about a murderer, or a madman, who was in the upper part of the church.
The helmeted men now appeared in the small gallery, and dragged Markus aside. They immediately bound him with strong cords, fearing he might throw them down below. Then one of them first made his way over the big beam, and ordered Markus to come to him. After that, the other cautiously followed.
The assembly could not see this, because it took place in the dark ridge of the aisle; but all breathed freely once more, now that the powerful voice up above was silent. Again the organ pealed forth, and the royal pair, ceremoniously preceded by the court official, at last proceeded toward the exit, for the carriages were now ready. The singing by the children was omitted. Everything else went just as the daily papers have recorded it for you.
Markus, tightly bound, was led out through a side door, yet not so secretly but that the crowd became aware thereof, and a riotous mob soon encircled the firemen and their prisoner.
"The Queen insulted!" they shrieked. "Kill him! Orange forever!" And they pressed closer and closer.
When Johannes and Marjon, hurried and breathless, had forced their way out through the disorderly throng, they saw, in the distance, above the encircling crowds, the shining helmets, swaying and undulating as they gradually moved farther and farther away. Hands, hats, walking-sticks, and umbrellas could be seen, now uplifted and then lowered.
The two followed on, in extreme anxiety, but they were not so fortunate as to get close by. They saw the red, angry faces of men and women, and heard the shouts of, "Orange forever!" and "Kill him!" At last, to their relief, they saw approaching a long file of policemen, who forced their way through the crowd. The people now pressed closely about the entrance to a narrow alley in which was the police-station. Then Johannes saw a man take up a large iron ash-can that stood on a stoop at the corner of the alley, and toss it so that it came down in the middle of the clamoring crowd where Markus was. A great cloud of yellow-white ashes flew from it, and the rabble laughed and cheered. The police cleared the alley, and the mob slowly scattered, with the triumphant shout: "Orange forever!"
When Johannes peered into the alley, between the policemen who would not let him through, he saw Markus – no longer walking, but only an inert body under the weight of which the firemen were moving with shuffling feet.