The tumult of voices raised all at once in different keys did not entirely drown the clash of arms; and while she stood, sullenly regarding the door, and resigned to the inevitable, whatever it might be, thin shafts of light pierced the shutters and stabbed the gloom about her.
With that a hail-storm of knocks fell on the door and on the shutters.

A dozen voices cried, "Open! Open!" The jangle of a halberd as its bearer let the butt drop heavily on the stone steps added force to the summons.
Anne's first impulse was to retreat upstairs, and leave them to do their worst.

Her next--she was in a state of collapse in which resistance seemed useless--was to open.

She moved to the door, and with cold hands removed the huge bars and let down the chain.

It was only when she had done so much, when it remained only to unlock, that she wavered; that she trembled to think on what the crowd might be bent, and what might be her fate at their hands.