Since Saturday afternoon the narrow avenue outside the American embassy in Beijing has resounded to the crash and thud of rocks hitting glass and concrete, punctuated by yells of abuse, as contingents of protesting students were ushered past by police.
But yesterday afternoon the sound changed to the soft clunk of stones falling from the pockets of demonstrators on to the road just before they reached the embassy. They were instructed to drop their missiles by a portly man in red sweat shirt and dark glasses.
He was one of dozens of Public Security Bureau officials who have stage-managed the great political drama played out in Beijing's leafy embassy district since public fury erupted over the NATO strike on the Chinese embassy in Belgrade.
They evidently decided that the time had come to turn down the "slow burn" of public anger and for the stoning to stop. While stirring up nationalist fervour, the Beijing leadership does not want to encourage a habit which could be hard to control, a diplomat said.
But the order to drop stones came too late to save the windows of a two-storey Irish Embassy residence at the back of the US building, which departing demonstrators took to be an extension of the US embassy. At about 10.30 yesterday morning a shower of missiles smashed all the windows.
One half-brick went through the living room of the Embassy secretary, Ms Mairead Carr, and skidded into the corridor. All the Embassy staff had been evacuated overnight but had returned at daylight and Ms Carr was lucky not to be injured.
Their neighbour, the US ambassador, Mr James Sasser, remained trapped for the third day in his compound, an unwilling pawn in a Chinese attempt to make the Americans lose face by desecrating one embassy in revenge for another. He said yesterday that he and key staff had scrambled to protect sensitive documents on Sunday, fearing students would storm the building.
Contingency plans were made with the Irish Embassy for an emergency evacuation through the Irish gardens, and some use was made of this exit route. "I think that clearly there's a very strong anti-US, even anti-Western, sentiment on the streets here in Beijing," Mr Sasser said.
The US embassy remained closed but the Irish opened for business, though diplomats advised Irish nationals to keep a low profile. One incident underlined the menace in the atmosphere. The daughter of the Irish ambassador, Mr Joe Hayes, and his wife Deirdre was approached when with her nanny outside the nearby Friendship Store by a young Chinese man who asked: "Where are you from?" When 10-year-old Evan replied "Ireland", he said "It is a good job you are not American, little girl. We don't like foreigners here and we will kill all Americans." Another Irish citizen to run into hostility was Mr Malcolm McAlister, a Dublin banker working in Beijing. His Toyota Privia van with five passengers was stopped by a crowd outside the British embassy on Saturday evening.
"The back window and tail lights were smashed, and the body work kicked in," he said. "Nobody got hurt but if we hadn't got away it would have been quite nasty."
A number of US citizens were "roughed up" in alleyways near the Jianguomenwai diplomatic compound, according to an official circular sent to American residents yesterday which instructed all US government personnel in China not to leave their houses. Some placards yesterday took aim at US-made goods. But anti-Americanism has its consumer limits: students took breaks from demonstrating in nearby McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks Coffee.
While the stoning of the Irish Embassy was not "personal", there was nothing accidental about the smashed windows of the embassy of Albania, Chinese oldest ally.
On Sunday afternoon at 4.30 a huge crowd which had been watching the stoning of the British embassy turned, as if at a signal, and invaded the Albanian compound, shouting insults about its co-operation with NATO and throwing rocks at eight-year-old Ervis Twerolli who was playing near the door.
The little boy pulled up his tee-shirt yesterday to show a red scar where he fell as he ran. The building contained 16 people, including eight children. "Frankly speaking it came as a shock and the children were terrified," said an Albanian consular official, Mr Tonin Beci, as we trudged through rooms littered with stones and broken glass.
"We called the police three times but it made little difference. We felt abandoned. I don't know of anywhere in the world where an Albanian embassy has been attacked like this, even in Belgrade."
After being trapped all weekend, Mr Beci ventured outside at 7.30 a.m. yesterday at a quiet moment and encountered the British ambassador, Mr Anthony Galsworthy, taking photographs of his trashed embassy compound. Incongruously, the lone Chinese police guard was standing as usual on his plinth at the British embassy gate, "securing" a building scarred by paint stains and broken windows. The third day of protests against the NATO bombing began shortly afterwards, with groups of students and work units entering from a main road where police struggled to hold back restive individuals itching to have their five minutes of stone-throwing.
Demonstrators carried newspapers with graphic pictures of the dead and injured Chinese in Belgrade. Many who came to demonstrate yesterday were not the stone-throwing type. They included 200 shaven-headed monks in orange robes from the Chinese Buddhist Institute, who clenched fists as they shouted: "Down with American imperialism."
There were white-capped Muslims from the Chinese Muslim Religious Doctrine Institute, among them Mr Han Dochang who said "I'm outraged by the blow against Chinese sovereignty," and did not appear to know about the fate of fellow Muslims in Kosovo.
They were followed by Catholic priests and students in black shirts from the Beijing Catholic Seminary, walking behind a huge crucifix.
"We express here what we suffer in our heart," said a seminary teacher, Father Man. A small flock of unhappy-looking nuns in black veils and wearing crosses followed, a rare sight in communist China. The sisters had gained this tiny bit of freedom from the desire of the Chinese government to show the world that every section of China was united in anger. "Down with America!" cried the nuns dutifully, waving little yellow flags.
As night fell, more than 1,000 riot police in green helmets lined up three deep along the road outside the US embassy gates.
During a lull, as I passed by when only long lines of police and a handful of security officials were present in the avenue, an American diplomat appeared at a broken second-story window with coffee cup in hand to look down at the scene below.
A man in plain clothes lifted a large stone and threw it over the heads of the riot police at the building. A public security official came over and told him off. Stone throwing was no longer permitted, it seemed, even for freelance officials who could not suppress their rage at America.