"I'll tell you," called out the same voice again. "There's a man in Aszod who calls himself the White Knight, the Enemy of the Commune, who has vowed the downfall of the Soviet, and the death of all the proletariat who stand in his way." "Bah!" answered Gonnard, "the _bourgeois_--are you then frightened of a _bourgeois_, comrades?" There was dead silence again. Gonnard laughed harshly. "Cowards!" he cried, "cowards, all of you! Frightened by some half-witted _bourgeois_ who calls himself by a strange name." He sneered, palpably. "Ho, then, Comrade Gonnard," interrupted the same voice again, "can you explain the death of Comrade Fejer and Comrade Pauler? You may be the next, my friend--or me." The blood drained away from Gonnard's face. Evidently this suggestion had not yet occurred to him, but as the force of the man's remarks struck him he twisted his head nervously from side to side, perhaps already anticipating the death which he so richly deserved. There was a taunting cry from several in the mob who observed this fact. "Look," cried one or two, "our People's Commissary turns white about the gills!" As the jeer sank home Gonnard heaved his heavy form more upright. "Afraid, am I?" he shouted nastily. "Well, then, if that's the case, I'll just show you how far you are wrong. If any of you before me knows of this so-called Enemy of the Commune you can tell him from me that in less than a week I'll string him up on the nearest tree I can find!" At his words there was a dramatic interruption. From one of the houses which overlooked the station there was a hearty roar of laughter, and then to the ears of Gonnard and the crowd which surrounded him came the echo of a mocking voice. "I accept your challenge, Comrade Gonnard. But it is you who will swing, not I!" * * * * * * Comrade Gonnard, as befitted a People's Commissary and a representative of the Workers' Council, took up his headquarters at the _château_ of Baron Szechenyi. No formality about this. He, together with local commissaries, merely marched up to the _château_, seized it in the name of the Soviet Government, and informed the Baroness that henceforward she and her family would have to be content with three rooms. The rest of the house was then thrown open to the proletariat, and before nightfall the _château_ was filled with the scum of Aszod. Before the next day had passed the whole place was turned upside down, while everything of value had disappeared, confiscated by any who cared to help themselves, for was not the meaning of the Commune that anything possessed by one belonged to all? "What is yours is mine, what is mine is mine own," might have been the motto of the Communist; or--abbreviated--"Thine--mine."