more ferocious. Then suddenly something went off with a boom; it was the
first stroke of the great Hugo clock under the dome. Six pairs of double
doors opened simultaneously, six pairs of golden commissionaires were
overthrown like ninepins, and in a fraction of time six companies of
determined and remorseless women had swept like Prussian cavalry into
the interior of the doomed edifice.

But the seventh crowd was left on the pavement, for the seventh pair of
doors had not opened. And this was the more extraordinary in that the
seventh crowd was the largest crowd, and stood before the entrance
nearest to the principal scene of the day's operations. Instantly the
world became aware that Hugo's management was less perfect than usual,
and people recalled incidents in his business during the previous four
months which had not been to his credit. The seventh crowd was
staggered, furious, and homicidal. If glances could have killed the
impassive pair of golden commissionaires behind the seventh portal, they
would certainly have fallen down dead. If the glass of the seventh
portal had not been set in small squares of immense thickness, it would
have been shattered to bits, and the stronghold forced. Many women cried
out that justice had come to an end in England, for was it not an
elementary principle of justice that all doors should open together? A
few women, more practical, and near the edge of the enraged horde,
slipped away to other entrances. One woman fainted, but she was held
upright by the press, and as no one paid the slightest attention to her
she rapidly came to. Then at length a tall gentleman in a beautiful
frock-coat was seen to be expostulating sternly with the seventh
pair of golden commissionaires; the recalcitant doors flew open,
and the beautiful frock-coat was hurled violently against a marble
pillar for its pains. Just as the seventh regiment was disappearing to
join in the sack and loot, a young and pretty girl drove up in a hansom,