Through the corridor of the Piarist College moved a tall, white-haired old man. It was Pater German, professor of history in the philosophical department. The dry, pale professor of theology was coming toward him.
“Did you hear, did you see?” he asked the calm, old man in an agitated tone.
“Yes—it can still be seen; and do you hear?” he rejoined, smiling.
“Vivant professores!” thundered the storm in front of the building.
‘But that is something unheard of! Conjuratio!” (Conspiracy).
“Secessio!” (Rebellion!) smiled the old man. “This is an illustration of what in history we read on every page. Suppressed liberties, privileges.”
“But this must be subdued—I go to the rector—”
“I will go with you”.
The angry priest stepped on first, the calm German followed.
They accosted the rector just as he pushed off some physics apparatus on the table, and stepped to the window, looking out upon the crowd of people and students.
“What is happening?” lamented the professor of theology.
“A rise in temperature of the hot, young blood.”
“Call upon them, please, to disperse!”
“They will not disperse. When they dared so far.”
“Then it is necessary to disperse them by force.”
“Who will compel them? Kmoniček?” German rejoined in rector’s stead, and on his lips played a gentle smile.
“I shall ask them myself to disperse peacefully”.
“As you please, in my name,” replied the rector.
The catechist left the room.
In the meantime the philosophers, almost in full numbers, fell in line. It was an inspiring sight to see these youths and young men as with their philosophical canes in hand they formed in lines. What a lot of din and noise and shouting arose! What a deal of laugher, jokes, and exultation!
The people pressed around, and on every one’s face joy and agreement was plainly visible. Only a few in the surprised town raised a voice against the students. Just then the catechist descended to the gate, when the music, which had subsided, resumed the full forte. The musicians stepped out and the philosophers followed.
The marching of a few hundred young, nimble feet was sprightly. The students were followed by all who had leisure to go; all over town people ran out of houses to convince themselves as to the truth of what was reported of the philosophers’ daring deed. Many, as soon as they saw the advancing column, hastened back to prepare to join the procession; for formerly almost the whole of Litomyšl was out in the Nedošín grove at the celebration of “majales”.
The columns of students disappeared, and the music grew faint.
At the gate stood the amazed, angry professor of theology. Such a thing had not happened in all the history of the school! The conspiracy succeeded completely. The student body stood all for each and each for all, and on the dangerous spot not a word was betrayed.
The whole town became unusually lively. It was suddenly given an unexpected holiday, which for years past had been erased from the calendar of Litomyšl.
Almost every house contributed someone who hastened toward the Nedošín grove. Here a citizen with his family, there a mother with daughters, here individually, there in a crowd. Everywhere buzzed the talk of the unexpected, and therefore doubly welcome joy.
Miss Elis was quite shocked when at the last minute Frýbort told her of the celebration, and invited her to the grove. She held back, did not want to go; but when Vavřena whispered to her that she would see Lenka there and speak with her, she quickly consented.
The students left and the good old lady began to dress. Everything about her was ancient, of the fashion of the years of her youth. She put on the long gloves which reached high up over the elbow and took the narrow, silk shawl. Just then the landlady stepped in.
“Oh, how glad I am, Miss Elis, that you are going. That girl of mine torments me, it’s a wonder she does not cry! She must be there: she thinks it could not end without her. I cannot, of course, close the store on account of that show, and father is in the market.”
“Then let Márinka go with me. I shall be very glad to have her,” Miss Elis nterrupted.
“Thank God! Well, won’t she be glad to hear that! You won’t need to wait long; when it is to a dance or some hop. then the girls are sprightly!”
“Youth is joy, you know!” ***
