Next morning before true light, he crept softly out, saddled his horse and made off with high excitement. When he was out of earshot of the buildings, he let his horse canter. There was such joy in his heart in anticipation of what the end of his journey held for him, it was hard not to go at full gallop, but it would not be wise to use up too much energy at the beginning of the day. He rehearsed in his mind the time he would spend talking to Johanna, telling her of his love for her. With a heart full of praise to the Lord, he repeated Psalms as he rode through the misty morning, sometimes breaking into song. Birds joined their morning songs from the bushes and trees along the roadside. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a horse and rider appeared beside him. The man was dressed in gray hosen and a tunic with a cowl that hid most of his face. Startled, Karl reined in his horse. “You are out very early,” the man began. “As you are, yourself,” countered Karl, scrutinizing the stranger. Just ahead from behind a grove of fir trees, another rider stepped onto the path. “Karl von Rothenburg, I presume?” He shouted the question, bringing his horse to stand directly in front of Karl’s. “From the looks of your trappings, you are going on a journey.” He flung the corner of his green wool garment over his shoulder. “Surely you had not thought of absconding while the rest of the world is still asleep?” he jeered, his metals clanking.
“Absconding?” queried Karl. “I didn’t know there is a law against riding out into the countryside of a morning.
“But you are wanted before the city magistrates at ten o’clock, “ said the man in gray, pulling his sword from its scabbard. There was nothing Karl could do but to ride meekly to town between the two men, dejected at the thought of this delay. Some of the council assembled were familiar faces to Karl, lords and judges, acquaintances of his father’s. They sat with long, somber faces as he was led into the council room. The bishop of the local parish, along with several priests, sat across the aisle, their black robes spilling on the floor around them. Karl recognized Lucas Kress among them, a self-righteous smirk on his face. Glancing around more closely at the council, Karl noticed Anton Tucher, his head bowed, eyes downcast, as if he were studying the worn footprints on the floor. Perhaps he might after all find an ally in him. Below the council at a long table sat the magistrate, heavy jowled and short of breath. He began by reading a lengthy edict that had been published some time before by synods of the state church. It pertained to the warnings that had been made concerning Anabaptists. They were warned against meeting in public places, or in larger groups than twenty, or to teach any heretical or revolutionary doctrine among members of the state church and so on and on. Before turning the captive over to the priest for questioning, he admonished him, “Your sect persists in obstinate disregard of the counsel of the king. I would have you remember that you are but a tolerated people; and I would warn you not to continue in disobedience.” He sat down, nodding to Friar Cornelius who asked that Karl be brought to stand before him. The young man looked the priest fully in the eye. First Cornelius began to salve him; with words of persuasion. “You are from a respectable family. You have a wonderful life before you, in your father’s business or in the church if you will convert from the false and evil belief you have been deceived into. I hope to bring you back to the Catholic faith of our mother, the holy Roman church from which you have apostatized to this damnable rebaptizing. What do you say to this?” “I left the Catholic Church of my own free will by the grace of God and through the teaching of his holy Word,” answered Karl. “You have the grace of the very devil of hell!” said the priest through clenched teeth. “Who the devil has taught you this? Your accursed Menno Simons, I suppose!” He followed his angry outburst with a string of curses. The bailiff tapped with his stick, reminding the priest to behave with more decorum. The priest went back to his chair, turned to face the defendant and began again. “Are you not aware of the law that forbids your sect to meet in public?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “Is it not true that your accursed group has been meeting publicly?” “I’m not aware of any public meetings, though we welcome any that wish to join us,” Karl replied patiently.