The blows of the crowbars redoubled in force, and the bullets that broke through the closed windows dislodged the plaster from the walls; shot followed shot.
Lorand had no other care than to see if the wounded girl's pillows were well arranged.
"Lorand," said the girl breathlessly. "Leave me. They are numerous. Escape. Put the lamp out, and when everything is dark—then leave me alone."
Certainly it would be good to extinguish the lamp, because the robbers were aiming into that room on account of it.
"Lorand! Where are you? Lorand," Topándy's voice sounded in the corridor.
At that sound Lorand began to realize the danger that threatened the whole household.
"Come and take your gun!" said the old man standing in the doorway. His face was just as contemptuous as ever. There was not the least trace of excitement, fright or anger upon it.
Lorand rose from his kneeling posture beside the bed.
"Don't waste time putting your boots on!" bawled the old fellow. "Our guests are come. We must meet them. Where is Czipra? She can load our weapons while we fire."
"Czipra cannot, for she is wounded."