He rose, walked to a window and, opening it, stepped out upon the balcony. No sooner was he seen than the air rang with cries of greeting.
The lifting of the Czar’s hand was like the lifting of a magic wand. An instant hush fell upon the crowd.
“Good-day, my children.”
Like a roar of thunder came the answer—
“Good-day, Little Father!”
“What is your will with me?”
Almost before the words had left the Czar’s lips a man, evidently desirous of shaping the people’s answer, cried—
“Justice on the regicides!”
The cry was immediately taken up; it rolled from mouth to mouth through the length and breadth of the crowd, and was repeated again and again—
“Justice on the regicides!”