"To arms! To arms!" It resounded with the voice of thunder on all sides. "Victory or death! To arms!"
The unarmed hands rose, as if to swear.
Berger had hurried down the steps. They surrounded him; they pressed his hands. Some asked him to "take the matter in hand;" a leader they must have.
Berger looked around. Suddenly he rushed towards a tall, thin gentleman who was pushing his way through the crowd.
"There is your man!" he cried, taking the tall stranger by the hand.
"He must be our leader. Step up there, Oldenburg, and speak to them only a few words. You understand that better than anybody else!"
Oldenburg was on the porch.
"Gentlemen!" he said, raising his hat; "let us follow the fashion of the day and build a barricade. I practiced the art a fortnight ago for a little while in the streets of Paris. If you will make use of my experience for want of a better man, I am heartily at your service. I am ready to build with you, to fight with you, to conquer with you, and, if it must be, to die with you!"
The iron ring in Oldenburg's voice, his manner of speaking easy and yet so persuasive had a charm which the crowd could not resist. It flashed like an electric shock through all hearts.
"You shall be our leader!" they cried on all sides. "Let the black-beard be our captain!"