“Yes, kill him! throw him out of the window!” echoed the infuriated group, frenzied by their diabolical passions.
The chamber of the dead man had become the theatre of a tumultuous and scandalous scene. The servants rushed upon Christian, who could not defend himself, since the minister, with the best intentions in the world, had thrown himself before him, declaring that he would lose his own life rather than see a murder accomplished in his presence.
The physician, Jacob, and two of the heirs, an old man and his young son, placed themselves also by Christian’s side, out of respect for the minister, and from their natural honor and good feeling. Stangstadius, hoping to calm the passions of the incensed assailants by the authority of his name and his eloquence, threw himself between them and this little group; but they took no notice of him, and crowded against Christian with such force that the young man, more impeded than assisted by his feeble champions, was pushed steadily, step by step, towards the window, which Johan had just thrown open. This wretch, with his eye on fire and mouth foaming with rage, never stopped for a single instant vociferating threats and denunciations, so as to prevent the terror and madness of his party from growing cold.
As they looked upon this frightful man, who threw off, at last, his mask of hypocritical mildness, and showed the tiger beneath, with all his bloodthirsty instincts, the minister and physician were struck with terror. Faint and trembling, they recoiled, or rather fell back upon Christian, while two of the most determined blackguards among the servants seized him adroitly by the legs, for the purpose of lifting him up and throwing him out backwards. All would have been over with him in another moment, when Major Larrson, the lieutenant, the corporal, M. Goefle, and the four soldiers, rushed into the room.
“Obey the law!” cried the major, going up to Johan. “In the name of the king, I arrest you.”
Handing him over to Corporal Duff, he added, addressing the lieutenant:
“Allow no one to leave the room!”
No one ventured to dispute the authority of an officer of the indelta, and amid the silence that followed, occasioned both by fear and respect, Larrson gazed around him, and saw the baron, motionless, upon his bed. He approached, looked at him attentively, and took off his hat, saying:
“Death is the messenger of God!”
Then he replaced it upon his head, as he added: