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But he was piqued himself, instead, for he could not recite the poetry, because Franti's mother suddenly flew into the schoolroom, breathless, with her gray hair dishevelled and all wet with snow, and pushing before her her son, who had been suspended from school for a week. What a sad scene we were doomed to witness!
And in the meanwhile the crowd had begun to move again, and the woman to shriek in a way that rent the heart, "He is dead! He is dead! He is dead!" "No, no; he is not dead," people on all sides said to her. But she paid no heed to them, and tore her hair. Then I heard an indignant voice say, "You are laughing!" and at the same moment I saw a bearded man staring in Franti's face.
"Ah, the infamous fellow! he has a knife!" shouted a man, rushing up to disarm Franti. But Stardi, beside himself with rage, had already grasped Franti's arm with both hands, and bestowed on the fist such a bite that the knife fell from it, and the hand began to bleed. More people had run up in the meantime, who separated them and set them on their feet.
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