"To what noise and confusion does the chairman refer?" asked Tormándy, with a smile.
Rideghváry perceived that the meeting was under other control than his own. The white feathers had received orders to hush every sound the moment they heard the chairman's bell; their opponents, observing that their leader was trying to make himself heard, would voluntarily become silent. Thus it was that the chairman found himself completely outwitted.
"I admit, there is no noise now," said he, "but as soon as the debate is resumed, the uproar will begin again, and therefore I claim the right, as presiding officer, to adjourn the meeting."
But not even then did the result follow which he had expected. The storm did not break out again; the emergency had been foreseen, and all his stratagems were too well known to catch his enemies napping.
Tormándy first broke the silence. "Mr. President," said he, rising and calmly addressing the chair, "I beg to propose that, if the chairman declines to preside longer over this meeting, we proceed to elect a substitute, after which we will continue our debate."
A hundred voices were raised in approval of this suggestion, and as many against it. The cries increased until confusion and uproar were again supreme. Assuming a stern expression and leaning forward over his table, Rideghváry tried to make himself heard.
"This is an open affront," he declared, "a violation of the law. But it lies in my power to put an end to such unbridled license. If the members oppose the adjournment of the meeting I shall call for their expulsion by force of arms."
"We will stand our ground," shouted back Tormándy, crossing his arms and facing the administrator defiantly.
But the latter had resources still in reserve. Summoning the sheriff, he bade him clear the hall, whereupon that officer threw open the folding doors behind the president's chair and revealed a body of men standing there with drawn swords, ready to do his bidding. Both the sheriff and his posse were creatures of the administrator.
In the first moment of surprise every one thought this must be a joke of some sort, so many years had passed since swords had been drawn in a county assembly. But when one and another zealous patriot was seen to fall wounded beside the green table, and bloody blades were brandished before their eyes, all took fright in earnest. The next moment, however, the scene changed. Some of the young Progressives drew their swords and ranged themselves against the sheriff's posse. Such a clashing of steel and din of battle then ensued as had never before been heard in a meeting of that kind,—and all under the eye of the presiding officer, and, apparently, with his approval.