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others called aloud to one another, while in the midst of it the telephone bell constantly rattled.
Suddenly, gun-fire from below. Some joyful news. . . . ?
No. The first victims. Victims of a mistake.
Some gendarmes were coming up on a huge motor-wagon, to take the oath of fealty to the National Council. The hated tuft-of-feathers was received as an enemy, someone cried out that they were coming against the people, and in the next instant fell the first sharp shots—well-aimed. But there were no dead, only some wounded. An explanation followed, and great bloodshed was prevented by a prompt handling of the situation. About this hour I forced my way out through the main portal of the Hotel Astoria, and saw those well-known watch-dogs which had accompanied the demonstrations, the little, almost insignificant machine-guns. They lay about the street up to the hotel—no longer directed to-day against the people, but against the misusers of power of yesterday. The long lines of weapons lay serpentine there, confident and secure, smoking soldiers played on the cartridge-boxes, jested, and lounged about their weapons.
But the threatened soldiers of the counter-revolution that were to spread panic and flight came not at all; only one lonely one-horse carriage trotted over the adjoining Rakòczistrasse, but was away at the first summons as fast as the nag could draw.
***
Far beautiful the windows of the Hotel Astoria into the night. The pulse of all that activity made itself felt far around.
In the first vagueness of dawn I tried to telepone; but failed.
A handful of soldiers had beset the Theresa-district Telephone Exchange which readily acquiesced, and soon after had beset the other telephone-places; from this hour till further notice only the National Council was switched on, and it alone could make calls with any success. For every other place—no connection; and it was well so: for much harm might have been done, if the reactionaries could have got their orders through. The unselfish bravery of the personnel
