The day was fair and clear. During the night an abundant rain had fallen which settled the dust, washed the city's stone pavements, refreshed the grass plots, and laved the leaves on the trees. The air became fresh and bracing. From the two acacias, growing under the windows of Hanka's residence, which strewed the walk near them with petals white as snow, came a sweet scent, strong and intoxicating as if from a censer. Marynia partly closed her eyes and, moving her delicate nostrils, sated herself with the perfume with delight, after which she turned to the depth of the room.
"It smells so sweet," she said.
"It does, little kitten," answered Hanka, interrupting a conversation with Pani Otocka. "I purposely ordered the window to be opened."
And the acacias not only smelt sweet but seemed to sing, for both were cumbered by a countless diet of sparrows so that the leaves and flowers quivered from their chirping.
The maiden watched for some time with delighted eyes the small, nimble birds; after which her attention was directed to something entirely different. On the walk before the house, in the middle of the street and on the sidewalk on the opposite side, there began to gather and stand clusters of people who, raising their heads, gazed intently at the windows of Hanka's residence.
Some wretchedly dressed people spoke with the doorkeeper standing at the gate, evidently questioning him about something. The clusters each moment became more numerous and, together with the passers-by, who remained out of curiosity, changed into a mob of several hundred heads. Marynia jumped back from the window.
"Look," she cried, "what is taking place on the street. Oh! oh! Perhaps they are the poor coming to thank me in advance? What shall I do if they come here? what shall I answer? I am not able.--Come, see!"
And saying this, she drew her sister and Hanka to the window. The three young heads leaned out of the window on to the street, but in that moment an incomprehensible thing happened. A ragged stripling pulled out of his pocket a stone and hurled it with all his strength into the open window. The stone flew over Pani Otocka's head, rebounded on the opposite wall, and fell with noise upon the floor. Hanka, Marynia, and Zosia drew back from the window and began to look at each other with inquiring and startled eyes.
In the meantime on the street resounded savage outcries; the rabble battered down the gate; on the stairs sounded the stamping of feet, after which in the twinkling of an eye the doors leading to the room burst open with a crash, and a mob, composed of Christians and some Jews, filled the residence.
"Away with the kept mistress! Strike! tear! smash!" howled hoarse voices.