His round, honest, oily face was anything but heroic, and wore no legendary, transfiguring light.

He seemed rather stupid than calm; yet as he mechanically wound his queue into place once more above the shaven forehead, his fingers moved surely and deftly.

Not once did they slip or tremble.
"Open your mouth!" snarled the pikemen and the torch-bearers, with the fierce gestures of men who have wasted time and patience.
"The Lamp of Heaven!" bawled the swordsman, beside himself.

"Give him the Lamp of Heaven!" To the others, this phrase acted as a spark to powder.
"Good! good!" they shrilled, nodding furiously.

"The Lamp of Heaven!" And several men began to rummage and overhaul the chaos of the go-down.
Rudolph had given orders, that afternoon, to remove all necessary stores to the nunnery.