Both were then silent.  It was a terrible, unearthly silence, only broken by the clash of their swords or the occasional outcries of anger or savage joy, as one or the other received or gave a blow.  Elise raised her head to heaven and prayed; every thing became confused before her eyes, her head swam, and she felt as if she would go crazy.  She prayed God that He would release her by madness or death from the suffering of this hour, or that He would point out to her some way of deliverance or escape.  But in the violence of their dispute and combat, the two men had not heard that there arose suddenly in the house a loud tumult and uproar; they had not perceived that a guard of soldiers was drawn up in the street, and that the commanding officer with a loud voice was demanding the delivery of the cannoneer who had taken refuge in this house.

As no attention was paid to the demand, the officer had ordered his soldiers to break open the doors of the house and enter by force.  But Bertram had anticipated this proceeding by having the door opened, and requesting the Austrian officer to search the house with his men, and convince himself that no one was concealed in it.  With most industrious energy, and mindful of the price which had been set on the head of the cannoneer, the soldiers searched every room in the house, and had finally arrived at the closed door of the hall.

Just as the combat between the two had reached its greatest violence, it was interrupted by fierce blows at the door from butts of muskets, and they were compelled to refrain from their imbittered struggle.  They stopped and listened, but Elise sprang from her knees, rushed with a cry of delight to the door and threw it open.  An officer of De Lacy’s chasseurs entered with some of his soldiers, while the rest of the men filled the entrance hall and passages of the house with noise and confusion.

With a commanding tone the Austrian officer demanded the delivery of the cannoneer, who, he asserted, had been seen by all to take refuge in this house, whence it was impossible that he could have escaped, as it had been immediately surrounded.  And as no one answered his threats, but only a sullen silence was opposed to his violently repeated demand, he swore that he would burn down the house and let no one escape if the refugee was not given up at once.

Gotzkowsky had at first stood like one stunned, and scarcely heard what the officer demanded of him.  Gradually he began to recover from his stupefaction and regain strength to turn his attention to things around him.  He raised his head from his breast, and, as if awaking from a dream, he looked around with bewildered amazement.  The Austrian officer repeated his demand still more haughtily and threateningly.  Gotzkowsky had now recovered presence of mind and composure, and declared with a determined voice, that no one was concealed in his house.

“He is here!” cried the Austrian.  “Our men have followed his track thus far, and marked this house well.  Deliver him up to us, to avoid bloodshed,” and, turning to his soldiers, he continued, “Search all the rooms-search carefully.  The man is hidden here, and we—­”