His arms upraised in menace or in prayer.
All shouted, “Shoot the bandit, fell the spy!”
The little fellow clasped him with a cry
Of “Papa, papa, they’ll not hurt you now!”
The light baptismal shone upon his brow.
From out the captive’s home had come the child.
Meanwhile the shrieks of “Kill him—Death!” rose wild.
The cannon to the tocsin’s voice replied,
Sinister men thronged close on every side,
And in the street ferocious shouts increased