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The pillar snapped, and the cheese house tottered and fell with

its load of beams and cheeses on the triangle of Muscovites; it

crushed, wounded, and killed; where the ranks had just now been

standing lay beams, corpses, and cheeses white as snow, stained

with blood and brains. The triangle was shattered into bits, and

now in the centre of it the sprinkling-brush thundered, the razor

flashed, and the switch slashed; from the mansion rushed a throng

of gentry, and the Count from the yard gate sent his cavalry

against the scattered fugitives.