They were four in number.
Two were trying the effect of the "jimmy" on the heavy iron-bound door, while a third, the wounded one, though he could no longer stand, still took part in the siege, notwithstanding his wounds. He put the barrel of his gun into the breaches made and fired over and over, so as to prevent the people inside from defending the door.
Sometimes single shots answered him from within, but without hitting anybody or anything.
The fourth robber, crowbar in hand, was striving to break down the door-supports. That was Vasgyúró.
On the other side of the courtyard Lorand saw two armed figures keeping guard over the servants' hall. It was six to one.
And there were still more than that altogether.
The door was very shaky already: the hinges were breaking. Lorand thought he heard his name called from within.
"Now, all together," thundered the robbers in self-encouragement, exerting all their united force on the crowbars. "More force! More!"
Lorand calmly raised his gun to his shoulder and fired twice among them in quick succession.
No cry of pain followed the two shots—merely the thud of two heavy bodies. They were so thoroughly killed, they had no time to complain.