Meantime, snowballs had rained upon his body and head from all directions, increasing his fury; and as soon as Xaver no longer struggled he started up, exclaiming with glowing cheeks and upraised fists: "Wait, wait, you wicked fellows! The doctor in Richtberg knows a word, by which he shall turn you all into toads and rats, you miserable rascals!" Xaver had remembered this speech, which he repeated to his father, cleverly enlarged with many a false word.

The abbot listened to the magistrate's complaint very quietly.
The angry father was no sufficient witness for him, yet the matter seemed important enough to send for and question Ulrich, though the meal-time had already begun.

The Jew had really spoken to his daughter about the magic word, and the pupil of the monastery had threatened his companions with it.

So the investigation might begin.
Ulrich was led back to the prison-chamber, where some thin soup and bread awaited him, but he touched neither.

Food and drink disgusted him, and he could neither work nor sit still.
The little bell, which, summoned all the occupants of the monastery, was heard at an unusual hour, and about vespers the sound of sleigh-bells attracted him to the window.