And the strife for and against capotes waxed hot and noisy, and filled the little square before the church with a din that could not have been exceeded, had a declaration for or against Genoa been the question to be decided. One took the word out of another's mouth; one after another sprang upon the stone bench to defend his opinion in a speech, and the by-standers hissed or applauded, shouted in derision or approbation, according as a Grimaldi or a Vincenti had advocated or denounced the capotes. Suddenly some one let fall an insulting expression. That moment rose cries of rage and defiance, and every one drew his pistols from his belt. The Grimaldi rushed upon Orso Paolo, who fired among his assailants. Antonio, Ruggero's eldest son, fell mortally wounded. The music of the holy mass ceased in the church. The people poured out in a body—men, women, and children, the priests in their robes, crucifix in hand. The entire village of Olmo was one confused scene of flight and pursuit, re-echoing with yells of fury, and the reports of fire-arms. The cries of the Grimaldi were vows of death to Orso Paolo. Orso had made for the woods with the speed of a hunted deer. But his foes saw his aim; revenge gave them wings, and they succeeded in interposing themselves between him and the hoped-for shelter. He was surrounded. From every side he saw furious pursuers approaching; already their balls whizzed about his head. It was vain to think of reaching the wood; there was little time to ponder a new plan; he was cut off from the open country; only a house stood near on the mountain-side—the house of his deadly foe Ruggero. Orso Paolo saw it, and in a moment he had crossed its threshold and secured the door. He had his weapons with him, his carchera was full of cartridges, there was a store of victuals in the house, and he might hold out for days. It was empty too; all its usual inmates had hurried into the village, and Ruggero's wife was occupied with the wounded Antonio. Her second son, still a child, had alone remained in the house, and lay asleep. Scarce had Orso Paolo intrenched himself here, when Ruggero appeared with all the Grimaldi at his back; but the barrel of Orso's gun appeared at the window, and he was heard to promise its contents to the first that approached the door. No one ran the risk. In most ungentle mood, they stood before the house uncertain what to do; Ruggero stamped with rage that his deadliest enemy should have found refuge in his own house; the tiger is not more furious when it sees and cannot reach its prey.