"For the mercy of God! People, what do you want here?" cried Hanka.
"Away with the kept mistress! away with the kept mistress! through the window! on to the street!"
In a moment a young man-servant, who rushed to the assistance of the ladies, was thrown upon the ground and trampled upon. Amidst the dreadful commotion, which the mob increased more and more, the human beasts became unfettered. Women with disheveled hair, filthy striplings with the marks of crime upon their degenerate features, and all manner of ragamuffins with drunken faces, rushed at the furniture, divans, bed curtains, and everything which fell into their hands. In the residence an orgy of destruction prevailed. The rooms were filled with the stench of sweat and whiskey. The mob became infuriated; it broke, smashed, stole. On the street, under the windows piles of splintered furniture were formed. They threw out even the piano. Finally some ruffian, with a pock-marked visage, seized Marynia's violin and brandished it, desiring to shatter it on the wall.
But she jumped to its aid and seized his fist with both hands.
"That is mine! that is mine!--I am to play for the poor--"
"Let go!"
"I will not let go!--that is mine!"
"Let go, carrion!"
"That is mine!"
A shot was fired, and, simultaneously, Pani Otocka's scream pierced the air. Marynia stood for a moment with upraised hands and head inclined backwards; afterwards she reeled and fell back into Hanka's arms.