"Very well, then," assented the other; "you stay here as a passive onlooker. But first may I ask your name?" "Richard Baradlay." "Ah, glad to meet you. Your brother and I are good friends." "My brother Jenő?" "Yes, he is attached to our headquarters at the Plankenhorsts'." "Headquarters at the Plankenhorsts'?" repeated Richard, in surprise. "Yes, indeed. Didn't you know about it? Both of the ladies are most zealous friends of the cause, and they give us the happiest advice and suggestions." By this time Richard had dismounted and thrown his horse's bridle to old Paul. "So the Plankenhorst ladies are still in the city, are they?" he asked, as he proceeded with Fritz toward the entrance of the convent. "And you say they are friends of the revolutionists. Do you know these women?" "It is one of our chief concerns to know them," was the reply. "Their past is not unknown to us, but now they declare themselves unconditionally on our side. Nothing catches fire like a woman's heart at the cry of freedom. But our confidence in them is a guarded one. We, too, have our secret police, and all their movements are carefully watched. Should they attempt to open communication with their former friends, we should learn the fact at once and the two ladies would be summarily dealt with. Oh, I assure you, our forces are well organised." "I haven't a doubt of it. And is my brother Jenő one of your number?" "One of the foremost. He holds the rank of second lieutenant." Richard shook his head incredulously. The mob was meanwhile gradually making a path for itself through the flames of burning brandy, and as the intrepid Fritz caught sight of one form after another through the blue-green fire, he became more and more aware of the magnitude of the task before him. Distinguished from the rabble about him was one man, no less ragged and dirty than his fellows, but of colossal size and brandishing above his head a six-foot iron bar as if it had been a wooden wand. He was pushing his way forward in a sort of blind frenzy. Seeing the hussars, however, drawn up in formidable array, he paused for his comrades to join him, when he raised aloft his powerful weapon and, pointing to the building before them, shouted, in a hoarse, brutal voice: "Into the fire with the nuns!" A bloodthirsty howl answered him from behind. But suddenly the shrill notes of a bugle were heard above the howling of the mob. It was a signal to the horsemen to hold themselves in readiness for action, and it dampened the ardour of the rioters. "For heaven's sake," exclaimed Fritz, "don't give the order to attack. We must avoid bloodshed. I will try to make these fellows listen to me." "Speak, then, in God's name! I will stay at your side," said Richard, as he lighted a cigar and waited for his companion to try the effect of his eloquence on the unruly mob before them.