knowledge of them soon became general. All Litomyšl was on the side of the philosophers, and many a young girl became anxious, fearing that some might be punished, even expelled.
Frýbort was getting out of patience with all these investigations; not that he was afraid, but because he had to listen at home to the incessant lamentations of Miss Elis, and because Márinka’s bright face was also saddened.
Vavřena was calm as usual, and endeavored to comfort the anxious boarding-lady; when, however, he could not accomplish anything, he kept still. Zelenka taught on, studied, and ate his bread and fruit porridge. On his untimely withered face, a secret satisfaction was mirrored.
Špína acted as if he had no concern with the trial. He would sit before an open book, smoke, and with a clouded expression meditatingly gaze before him. Miss Elis, suposing that he was worried because of the examinations and the approaching punishment, came to him, and laying her hand gently on his shoulder, tried to comfort him. But she had not quite finished when Špína turned and in a deep bass growled:
“If they only would do it soon! I would be glad if they expelled me!”
Miss Elis was dazed. Impossible, that anyone from her house could be punished by expulsion! Forty-seven philosophers had lived in her home, all were always among the first, at present they all occupied high positions—and now! — — The honor of her rooms would be gone!
She was more fearful than the students. It did not comfort her that the whole of Litomyšl was on their side, for it was not quite true. If all others were, surely Mrs. Roller and the registrar’s family were not.
Early the next morning Mrs. Roubínek began to relate to her husband, who was still enjoying the comforts of his “oberst”, what a failure this year’s “majales” was; and she began very extensively, although not quite justly, to narrate how their instructor insulted them and behaved improperly, and how Lottynka especially had a reason to feel hurt.
She touched the registrar’s most sensitive spot. Intensifying her report, she reached the place in her narrative where Lenka was strolling alone through the park and how she was courted by their instructor.
The registrar removed his gaze from king Herod several times and would have begun the official investigation immediately, had not the hour arrived for him to depart for the office.
When he came home at noon and finished his dinner, Mrs. Roubínek began again, and fortified herself with the testimony of Mrs. Roller. Lenka was in the kitchen. Well did she surmise, however, that she was being discussed in the parlor, for during the dinner her uncle had turned on her his cold, icy glance several times, and she understood that sign. She was not afraid, and was prepared for anything; yet she shuddered when she thought of Vavřena.
Vavřena came in the afternoon at the usual time to teach Fritz. Mrs. Roubínek greeted him coldly; Lotty acted as if she did not see him. He looked in vain for Lenka. No doubt her aunt had given her some work which did not permit her to come to the parlor. As he was leaving, he met Mrs. Roller in the hall-way.
Joyfully and sweetly Mrs. Roubínek greeted this welcome visitor and detained her long, until the registrar came home from the office.
Everything had gone wrong that day. What he had heard from his wife, was confirmed and magnified by the former mayor’s widow, who beside other things, added that Lenka had made friends “with that Miss Elis, who is such a patriot, and who would like to turn everything up side down.” As proof of this she alleged that Miss Elis was a bosom friend of the late Mrs. Rettig, who wanted to make all Litomyšl patriotic.
When Mrs. Roller departed, the registrar did not even remove his official coat, but went straight to Lenka’s room. There he found his niece sitting near the window sewing, as her aunt had ordered her.
The young girl was greatly surprised, for her uncle never before entered her room. He stopped in the middle and looked intently at her. Solemnly, strictly, as in the office, the registrar began. He asked about yesterday, about Vavřena and about Miss Elis.
Lenka answered firmly and truthfully, acknowledging that she spoke with Vavřena and Miss Elis. The uncle ceased speaking and it appeared that the trial was over. Then his glance fell on the table.
“What have you under the sewing?”
Lenka did not answer.
“Hand it over to me!”
There was nothing else to be done.
Roubínek took the small book and looked at it hastily. Finding that it was in Bohemian, he asked where she got it.
“It is mine,” Lenka involuntarily uttered a lie, seeking thereby to spare Vavřena.
“Oh, then you receive presents?” and the uncle pointed to the inner cover page, where the name of his son’s instructor was signed. The girl blushed and did not answer.
It was too late to correct the error. Without saying another word, the registrar stalked away, taking the book with him.
In the evening, contrary to his habit, Roubínek had a candle lighted, and seated himself at the table in his flowery “oberst”, opened the corpus delicti, and began reading.
Poor Mácha! Foolish criticism had already condemned his “May”, and now the registrar Roubínek was judging it anew.
Had Vavřena or Frýbort seen that cold, unsympathetic face bent over the ardent verses, he would have burst out laughing.
