"Sooner than this," he cried, "come death."
At these words, which were the preconcerted signal for action,
the Isosceles Convicts fell on and transfixed the wretched Chromatistes;
the Regular Classes, opening their ranks, made way for a band of Women who,
under direction of the Circles, moved back foremost, invisibly and unerringly
upon the unconscious soldiers; the Artisans, imitating the example of their
betters, also opened their ranks. Meantime bands of Convicts occupied
every entrance with an impenetrable phalanx.
The battle, or rather carnage, was of short duration. Under the
skillful generalship of the Circles almost every Woman's charge
was fatal and very many extracted their sting uninjured, ready for
a second slaughter. But no second blow was needed; the rabble
of the Isosceles did the rest of the business for themselves.
Surprised, leader-less, attacked in front by invisible foes,
and finding egress cut off by the Convicts behind them, they at once--
after their manner--lost all presence of mind, and raised the cry
of "treachery." This sealed their fate. Every Isosceles now saw
and felt a foe in every other.
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