"Not one able-bodied man but was fighting yesterday--not half their number knew how to handle pike or lance, musket or crossbow."
"Then we must find two thousand men who are trained soldiers and know all that there is to know about fighting. That would make it a two to one fight. Burghers of Ghent, which one of you cannot account for two Spaniards when the lives of your women and your children depend on the strength of your arm?"
"Two thousand men?" The cry came from everywhere--cry of doubt, of hope, of irony or of defiance.
"How are we to get them? Where can we get them from?"
"Come with me and I'll show you!" retorts Mark and he immediately makes for the door.
The other leaders stick close to him as one man, as do all those who have been standing near the altar rails and those who saw him even when first he turned to them all, with eyes glowing with the fire of the most ardent patriotism, with the determination to die if need be, but by God! to try and conquer first!
It was only those who were in the rear of the crowd or in the side aisles who did not come immediately under the spell of that magnetic personality, of that burning enthusiasm which from its lexicon had erased the word "Failure!" but even they were carried off their feet by the human wave which now swept out of the cathedral--by the south door--bearing upon it the group of rebel leaders with Mark's broad shoulders and closely cropped head towering above the others.
The throng was soon swelled to huge proportions by all those who had been hanging about in the precincts all the afternoon unable to push their way into the crowded edifice. The tumult and the clamour which they made--added to the cries of those who were running in terror through the streets--made a pandemonium of sounds which was almost hellish in its awful suggestion of terror, of confusion and of misery.
But those who still believed in the help of God, those in whom faith in the justice of their cause was allied with the sublime determination of martyrs were content to follow their hero blindly--vaguely marvelling what his purpose could be--whilst the malcontents in the rear, rallying round Peter Balde once more began to murmur of death and of revenge!
Mark led the crowd across the wide cathedral square to the guild-house of the armourers--the fine building with the tall, crow-step gables and the magnificent carved portico to which a double flight of fifteen stone steps and wrought-iron balustrade gave access. He ran up the steps and stood with his back to the portico fronting the crowd. Every one could see him now, from the remotest corners of the square--many had invaded the houses round, and heads appeared at all the windows.