When the census officials appeared to begin their work again in Novgorod and districts around it, the promise to yield was as if it had never been given. When the officials stepped out of sleighs, and were assigned the best houses to live in, and the Mongols made ready to pass from street to street, and from house to house, an ominous murmur went up throughout Novgorod. In all districts near the city there was disturbance and uproar. Men ridiculed the Mongols, and spoke evil words to their faces. The censors, in alarm, asked Nevski to protect them. He sent guards to their houses, and among these the son of the posadnik. But neither posadnik nor commander had meaning for Novgorod malcontents. Not only were common people terribly excited, but the chief men fell into two parties opposed to each other. The Khan’s officials threatened to abandon their task altogether. Nevski was forced to stay with them always. The people grew still more excited: “We will die for Holy Sophia!” was their watchword. The Mongol officials turned to the boyars, repeating suggestively: “Permit us to take the census, or we will leave Novgorod!” The boyars laid all blame on the people. The Mongols turned then to Nevski, with these words: “Why should we stay here longer? Your people will kill us.” On the square louder and louder were heard threatening voices. “Let us resist to the death! Whoso is just let him join us!” The crowd of people felt sure of their rights and complained: “The rich command to count our heads. They make everything easy for themselves, but evil for small folk.” There was a roar throughout the city: “We will die for justice!” All at once a report was spread that the Mongols were to move on the Kremlin from two points. There was a rush to the cathedral from all parts, and a cry rose: “Let us go to Saint Sophia. We will lay down our heads there!” Meanwhile the Mongols were only thinking of how to save themselves. Nevski, greatly fearing lest the people might kill them, did not think it wise to detain them longer. Not merely had they not finished the census, they had barely begun it. Still, in spite of the turmoil, no riot took place in that boisterous Novgorod, accustomed to disorder and bloodshed. No “pagan eater of raw flesh” was attacked, either inside its walls or beyond them.