An Original Belle Part 62

The man yielded sullenly, and Merwyn alighted near Mr. Vosburgh's residence, saying to his Jehu, "Your course lies there," pointing east,--and he rapidly turned a corner.

As Merwyn had surmised, the man wheeled his horses with the purpose of following and learning his destination. Observing this eager quest he sprung out upon him from a doorway and said, "If you try that again I'll shoot you as I would a dog." The fellow now took counsel of discretion.

Going round the block to make sure he was not observed, Merwyn reached the residence of Mr. Vosburgh just as that gentleman was rising from his breakfast, and received a cordial welcome.

"Why, Merwyn," he exclaimed, "you look as fresh as a June daisy this morning."

The young fellow had merely bowed to Marian, and now said, "I cannot wonder at your surprise, remembering the condition in which I presented myself last night."

"Condition? I do not understand."

Marian laughed, as she said: "Papa came in about midnight in scarcely better plight. In brief, you were both exhausted, and with good reason."

"But you did not tell me, Marian--"

"No," she interrupted; "nothing but a life-and-death emergency should have made me tell you anything last night."

"Why, our little girl is becoming a soldier and a strategist.

I think you had better make your report over again, Mr. Merwyn;"

and he drew out a fuller account of events than had been given the evening before, also the result of the young man's morning observations.

Marian made no effort to secure attention beyond offering Merwyn a cup of coffee.

"I have breakfasted," he said, coldly.

"Take it, Merwyn, take it," cried Mr. Vosburgh. "Next to courage, nothing keeps up a soldier better than coffee. According to your own view we have another hard day before us."

Merwyn complied, and bowed his thanks.

"Now for plans," resumed Mr. Vosburgh. "Are you going to police headquarters again?"

"Direct from here."

"I shall be there occasionally, and if you learn anything important, leave me a note. If I am not there and you can get away, come here.

Of course I only ask this as of a friend and loyal man. You can see how vitally important it is that the authorities at Was.h.i.+ngton should be informed. They can put forth vast powers, and will do so as the necessity is impressed upon them. If we can only hold our own for a day or two the city will be full of troops. Therefore remember that in aiding me you are helping the cause even more than by fighting with the best and bravest, as you did yesterday.

You recognize this fact, do you not? I am not laying any constraint on you contrary to your sense of duty and inclination."

"No, sir, you are not. I should be dull indeed did I not perceive that you are burdened with the gravest responsibilities. What is more, your knowledge guides, in a measure, the strong national hand, and I now believe we shall need its aid."

"That's it, that's the point. Therefore you can see why I am eager to secure the a.s.sistance of one who has the brains to appreciate the fact so quickly and fully. Moreover, you are cool, and seem to understand the nature of this outbreak as if you had made a study of the mobs."

"I have, and I have been preparing for this one, for I knew that it would soon give me a chance to prove that I was not a coward."

Marian's cheeks crimsoned.

"No more of that, if you please," said Mr. Vosburgh, gravely. "While it is natural that you should feel strongly, you must remember that both I and my daughter have asked your pardon, and that you yourself admitted that we had cause for misjudging you. We have been prompt to make amends, and I followed you through yesterday's fight at some risk to see that you did not fall into the hands of strangers, if wounded. I could have learned all about the fight at a safer distance. You are now showing the best qualities of a soldier. Add to them a soldier's full and generous forgiveness when a wrong is atoned for,--an unintentional wrong at that. We trust you implicitly as a man of honor, but we also wish to work with you as a friend."

Mr. Vosburgh spoke with dignity, and the young fellow's face flushed under the reproof in his tone.

"I suppose I have become morbid on the subject," he said, with some embarra.s.sment. "I now ask your pardon, and admit that the expression was in bad taste, to say the least."

"Yes, it was, in view of the evident fact that we now esteem and honor you as a brave man. I would not give you my hand in friends.h.i.+p and trust concerning matters vital to me were this not so."

Merwyn took the proffered hand with a deep flush of pleasure.

"Having learned the bitterness of being misjudged," said Marian, quietly, "Mr. Merwyn should be careful how he misjudges others."

"That's a close shot, Merwyn," said Mr. Vosburgh, laughing.

Their guest started and bent a keen glance on the girl's averted face, and then said, earnestly: "Miss Vosburgh, your father has spoken frankly to me and I believe him. Your words, also, are significant if they mean anything whatever. I know well what is before me to-day,--the chances of my never seeing you again. I can only misjudge you in one respect. Perhaps I can best make everything clear to your father as well as yourself by a single question. If I do my duty through these troubles, Mr. Vosburgh being the judge, can you give me some place among those friends who have already, and justly, won your esteem? I know it will require time. I have given you far more cause for offence than you have given me, but I would be glad to fight to-day with the inspiration of hope rather than that of recklessness."

Her lip trembled as she faltered: "You would see that you have such a place already were you not equally p.r.o.ne to misjudge. Do you think me capable of cheris.h.i.+ng a petty spite after you had proved yourself the peer of my other friends?"

"That I have not done, and I fear I never can. You have seen that I have been under a strong restraint which is not removed and which I cannot explain. To wear, temporarily, a policeman's uniform is probably the best I can hope for."

"I was thinking of men, Mr. Merwyn, not uniforms. I have nothing whatever to do with the restraint to which you refer. If my father trusts you, I can. Do not think of me so meanly as to believe I cannot give honest friends.h.i.+p to the man who is risking his life to aid my father. Last evening you said I had been off my guard.

I must and will say, in self-defence, that if you judge me by that hour of weakness and folly you misjudge me."

"Then we can be friends," he said, holding out his hand, his face full of the suns.h.i.+ne of gladness.

"Why not?" she replied, laughing, and taking his hand,--"that is, on condition that there is no more recklessness."

Mr. Vosburgh rose and said, with a smile: "Now that there is complete amity in the camp we will move on the enemy. I shall go with you, Merwyn, to police-headquarters;" and he hastily began his preparation.

Left alone with Marian a moment, Merwyn said, "You cannot know how your words have changed everything for me."

"I fear the spirit of the rioters is unchanged, and that you are about to incur fearful risks."

"I shall meet them cheerfully, for I have been under a thick cloud too long not to exult in a little light at last."

"Ready?" said Mr. Vosburgh.

Again Merwyn took her hand and looked at her earnestly as he said, "Good-by, Heaven bless you, whatever happens to me;" and he wondered at the tears that came into her eyes.

Making their way through streets which were now becoming thronged, Mr.

Vosburgh and Merwyn reached police headquarters without detention.

They found matters there vastly changed for the better: the whole police force well in hand; and General Harvey Brown, a most capable officer, in command of several hundred soldiers. Moreover, citizens, in response to a call from the mayor, were being enrolled in large numbers as special policemen. Merwyn was welcomed by his old companions under the command of Inspector Carpenter, and provided with a badge which would indicate that he now belonged to the police force.

Telegrams were pouring in announcing trouble in different sections.

Troops were drawn up in line on Mulberry Street, ready for instant action, and were harangued by their officers in earnest words which were heeded and obeyed, for the soldiers vied with the police in courage and discipline.

Soon after his arrival Merwyn found himself marching with a force of policemen two hundred and fifty strong, led by Carpenter and followed by a company of the military. The most threatening gatherings were reported to be in Second and Third Avenues.

The former thoroughfare, when entered, was seen to be filled as far as the eye could reach, the number of the throng being estimated at not less than ten thousand. At first this host was comparatively quiet, apparently having no definite purpose or recognized leaders.

Curiosity accounted for the presence of many, the hope of plunder for that of more; but there were hundreds of ferocious-looking men who thirsted for blood and lawless power. A Catholic priest, to his honor be it said, had addressed the crowd and pleaded for peace and order; but his words, although listened to respectfully, were soon forgotten. What this section of the mob, which was now mustering in a score of localities, would have done first it is impossible to say; for as it began to be agitated with pa.s.sion, ready to precipitate its brutal force on any object that caught its attention, the cry, "Cops and soldiers coming," echoed up the avenue from block to block, a long, hoa.r.s.e wave of sound.

Carpenter, with his force, marched quietly through the crowd from 21st to 32d Street, paying no heed to the hootings, yells, and vile epithets that were hurled from every side. Dirty, ragged women, with dishevelled hair and bloated faces, far exceeded the men in the use of Billingsgate; and the guardians of the law, as they pa.s.sed through those long lines of demoniacal visages, scowling with hate, and heard their sulphurous invectives, saw what would be their fate if overpowered. It was a conflict having all the horrors of Indian warfare, as poor Colonel O'Brien, tortured to death through the long hot afternoon of that same day, learned in agony.