“Who rings the bell?” Hieronymus asked, sternly, gazing in amazement at Perpetua and the strange display of armed force.
“I do, father,” Perpetua answered. Then eagerly she appealed to the murmuring crowd: “People of Syracuse, protect me. That bell appeals to you with the voice of the dead good King, to defend me against the living evil King.”
Men and women, the crowd clustered together, murmurous, menacing sound—the men had weapons in their hands and looked as if they were ready to use them in defence of their ancient rights.
Unmoved by their attitude, Hildebrand said to Sigurd: “Make that woman your prisoner. She is the King’s enemy.”
Sigurd and his soldiers advanced towards Perpetua. As they did so the uneasy crowd about the door parted, and Robert rushed in through the human lane, wild-eyed; he looked from Perpetua to Hildebrand, from the soldiers to the people.
“Perpetua! Perpetua!” he cried. “You dare not touch her. She is in sanctuary.”
Instantly the people about the door took up the cry and thundered it: “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!”
Hildebrand greeted Robert with an evil smile. “Fool, fool, I thought we should lure you.”
“Sanctuary!” Robert cried again. He tried to reach Perpetua, but the soldiers were between him and her, a wall of weapons.
“Sanctuary! Sanctuary!” the people raved, swaying at Robert’s heels.