The effect of that one blow was to change the character of the crowd entirely.
Hitherto it had been one of merely disorderly citizens, lawless and unruly, no doubt, but not bent on any definite mischief. The ringing of the axe against the door acted as a signal for the loosing of a flood of evil passions.
Every one struggled to get in a good blow, and instead of the harmless though bitter language of a few minutes previously, we heard the more alarming cry of, "Death to the aristocrats! Death to Von Arnstein!"
The baroness moved nearer to the window, and I placed myself in front of her, saying,--
"This is madness, madam!"
She asked me with haughty courtesy to stand aside, and I, fearful of the risk she was running, appealed to her daughter. Her answer was to place herself by her mother, who opened the window.
The battering at the door and windows stopped while the crowd looked up curiously.
In a clear, hard, but passionless voice the baroness said,--
"I am Von Arnstein's wife; this is his daughter. My servants are armed, my house is defended by friends. If you enter, it will be at your peril."
For answer, some one on the outskirts of the crowd fired a shot, which lodged in the window-frame, and I drew the ladies back.