All the afternoon, but more particularly towards evening, people were trickling along the pleasant lanes towards the Little Mill. “Oh, well,” they said to each other when they met, “I thought I might as well come along too just to have a look at that crazy fellow’s camp.” When they arrived at the Little Mill, they beheld the meadows already crowded with people, and Hampl’s aide-de-camp standing beside the two drums administering the oath of allegiance to the Emperor Bobinet. Here and there bonfires were burning, with shadowy figures flitting about them: in short, it all looked very picturesque. Several people went back to Hradec visibly depressed.

By night the sight was even finer. Skocdopole, the Burgomaster, crept up the White Tower after midnight, and there to the east along the Orlice river hundreds of fires were burning, thousands of figures were moving about in the firelight, which cast a blood-red glow over the countryside. It looked as though entrenchments were being made. The Burgomaster came down from the tower deeply perturbed. It was evident that General Hampl’s menaces regarding his military strength had not been exaggerated.

At dawn General Hampl emerged from the wooden mill, where he had sat up all night studying the plans of the city. Several thousand men, all of them in civilian clothes, but for the most part armed, had drawn themselves up in fours; women, old men, and children thronged around them.

“Forward,” cried Hampl, and at the same instant the trumpets rang out in the brass band from Mr. Cerveny’s world-famous wind-instrument works, and to the tune of a merry march (“The Girls along the Highway”) Hampl’s forces advanced upon the city.

General Hampl brought his troops to a halt before the city and sent forward a trumpeter and a herald with the demand that all non-combatants should leaves their houses. No one came out, however. The houses were empty.

The Little Square was empty.

The Great Square was empty.

The whole city was empty.

General Hampl twirled his moustache and made his way to City Hall. It was open. He entered the Council Chamber. He took his seat in the Burgomaster’s Chair. Sheets of paper were lying spread out in front of him on the green cloth, and on each of them these words had been written in a beautiful hand:

“In the name of His Majesty the Emperor Bobinet.”

General Hampl stepped to the window and cried: “Soldiers, the battle is ended. You have crushed with the mailed fist the clerical tyranny of the Council clique. An era of progress and freedom has dawned for our beloved city. Return now, all of you, to your homes. You have played your part nobly. Nazdar!” (“Good luck go with you!”)

“Nazdar!” responded the army, and dispersed.

One of Hampl’s warriors (they came to be called simply Hampelmen) went back home to the Burgomaster’s house; he had shouldered a rifle left behind by a Chinese soldier.