A second, and into the loose skirts of the crowd came charging helter-skelter, pell-mell, a score of galloping, shrieking, cursing horsemen, attended by twice as many footmen, who clung to their stirrups or to the tails of the horses, and yelled and whooped, and struck in unison with the maddened riders.
"On! on!" the foremost shrieked, rolling in his saddle, and foaming at the mouth.

"Bleed in August, bleed in May! Kill!" And he fired a pistol among the rabble, who fled every way to escape his rearing, plunging charger.
"Kill! Kill!" cried his followers, cutting the air with their swords, and rolling to and fro on their horses in drunken emulation.

"Bleed in August, bleed in May!" "On! On!" cried the leader, as the crowd which beset the house fled every way before his reckless onset.

"Bleed in August, bleed in May!" The rabble fled, but not so quickly but that one or two were ridden down, and this for an instant checked the riders.

Before they could pass on-- "Ohe!" cried Count Hannibal from his window.