But wrong did not flourish with complete impunity; right had not
entirely vanished; justice still held its sword, and at times struck
swift and deadly blows that filled with terror the wrong-doer, and gave
some assurance of protection to those too weak for self-defence. It was
no unusual circumstance to behold, perhaps in the vicinity of some
baronial castle, perhaps near some town or manorial residence, a group
of peasants gazing upwards with awed but triumphant eyes; the spectacle
that attracted their attention being the body of a man hanging from the
limb of a tree above their heads.
Such might have been supposed to be some act of private vengeance or
bold outrage, but the exulting lookers-on knew better. For they
recognized the body, perhaps as that of the robber baron of the
neighboring castle, perhaps that of some other bold defier of law and
justice, while in the ground below the corpse appeared an object that
told a tale of deep meaning to their experienced eyes. This was a knife,
thrust to the hilt in the earth. As they gazed upon it they muttered the
mysterious words, "_Vehm gericht_," and quickly dispersed, none daring
to touch the corpse or disturb the significant signal of the vengeance
of the executioners.
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