There was an instant of scared, blanched silence, and then a girl burst into hysterical sobbing, and her voice broke the tension. In a moment all was confusion and terror unspeakable, through which I forced my way to mademoiselle's side. Men shouted and raved, women screamed and prayed. Some flew to the doors, others, again, huddled together like sheep; and from outside rose higher and higher the dreadful voice of the mob, mad with blood lust, and ever above all rang out the harsh clang of the tocsin of the Mathurins. I looked at mademoiselle; her face was white and her eyes were shining, but she held herself bravely. I drew my sword as La Mothe, the old soldier spirit awake within him, called out in a loud voice: "The women in the centre, gentlemen! Draw swords, and make for the door, else we die here like rats." His voice rang out clear and strong. The few who retained their heads seconded him well, and in less time that I take to tell this we had ringed in the women, and stood around them with drawn swords. La Mothe was near the door, his spare figure erect, his look high. He alone carried no arms. I was a few feet from him, with Diane by my side. In this formation we left the meeting-room, and reached the hall, where the huge iron-studded door was already yielding to the battering from outside. "Throw open the door," La Mothe called out. Someone, I think it was Ferrieres, stepped forward and undid the bar, springing back quickly as the door flew open; and for an instant we heard a hoarse roar, and by the light of many torches, and a huge fire lit in the street, saw a countless swarm of cruel faces. Out we rushed, striking to the right and left, splitting them before us as a plank is split by a wedge. So impetuous was the sally that the crowd gave way on all hands. But our success was only for a moment. They rallied, and surged back, savage, furious, thirsting for blood. I shall never forget that night: the tall, dark houses, the flare-lit street, and that devoted few, around whom the howling mob raged like the sea about some desolate isle. Still we pushed them back, for they seemed to have no leaders; but now one appeared, a man mounted on a tall white horse, and we began to feel the difference.