THE evening was growing dusky when Merwyn dismissed his carriageand hastened to Mr. Vosburgh's residence. Marian and her fatherhad waited for him until their faces were clouded with anxiety byreason of his long delay. The young girl's attempt to dine withher father was but a formal pretence.
At last she exclaimed, "Something must have happened to Mr. Merwyn!"
"Do not entertain gloomy thoughts, my dear. A hundred things besidesan injury might have detained him. Keep a good dinner ready, andI think he'll do justice to it before the evening is over."
Even then the German servant announced his presence at the basementdoor, which, in view of the disguises worn, was still used as theplace of ingress and egress.
Mr. Vosburgh hastened to welcome him, while Marian bustled around tocomplete her preparations. When he entered the dining-room he didindeed appear weary and haggard, a fair counterpart of the rioterswhom he had been fighting.
"Only necessity, Miss Vosburgh, compels me to present myself in thisscarecrow aspect," he said. "I've had no time or chance for anythingbetter. I can soon report to your father all that is essential,and then can go home and return later."
"I shall be much hurt if you do so," said Marian, reproachfully."I kept a lunch prepared for you during the afternoon, and now havea warm dinner all ready. It will be very ungracious in you to goaway and leave it."
"But I look like a coal-heaver."
"Oh, I've seen well-dressed men before. They are no novelty; but aman direct from a field of battle is quite interesting. Will youplease take this chair? You are not in the least like my otherfriends. They obey me without questionings."
"You must remember," he replied, "that the relation is to me as newand strange as it is welcome. I shall need a great deal of discipline."
"When you learn what a martinet I can be you may repent, like manyanother who has obtained his wish. Here we shall reverse matters.Everything is topsy-turvy now, you know, so take this coffee atthe beginning of your dinner."
"I admit that your orders differ widely from those of police captains."Then he added, with quiet significance, "No; I shall not repent."
"Mr. Merwyn, will you take an older man's advice?"
"Certainly. Indeed, I am under your orders, also, for the night."
"I'm glad to hear it, for it will be a night of deep anxiety tome. Make a very light dinner, and take more refreshment later. Youare too much exhausted to dine now. You need not tell me of yourmorning adventures. I learned about those at headquarters."
"I have heard about them too," Marian added, with a look thatwarmed the young fellow's soul. "I have also had a visit from Mrs.Ghegan, and her story was not so brief as yours."
"From what section have you just come?" Mr. Vosburgh asked.
Merwyn gave a brief description of the condition of affairs on thewest side, ending with an account of the fight at the barricades.
"In one respect you are like my other friends, only more so,"Marian said. "You are inclined to give me Hamlet with Hamlet leftout. What part did you take at the barricades?"
He told her in a matter-of-fact way.
"Ah, yes, I understand. I am learning to read between the lines ofyour stories."
"Well, Heaven be thanked," ejaculated Mr. Vosburgh, "that you demolishedthe barricades! If the rioters adopt that mode of fighting us, weshall have far greater difficulty in coping with them."
At last Mr. Vosburgh said, "Will you please come with me to mylibrary for a few minutes?"
On reaching the apartment he closed the door, and continued, gravely:"Mr. Merwyn, I am in sore straits. You have offered to aid me. Iwill tell you my situation, and then you must do as you think best.I know that you have done all a man's duty to-day and have earnedthe right to complete rest. You will also naturally wish to lookafter your own home. Nevertheless my need and your own words leadme to suggest that you stay here to-night, or at least throughthe greater portion of it. I fear that I have been recognized andfollowed,--that I have enemies on my track. I suspect the man whomI discharged from the care of my office. Yet I must go out, for Ihave important despatches to send, and--what is of more consequence--Imust make some careful observations. The mob seems to be a merelawless, floundering monster, bent chiefly on plunder; but thedanger is that leaders are organizing its strength as a part of therebellion. You can understand that, while I look upon the outbreakwith the solicitude of a citizen whose dearest interests are atstake, I also, from habit of mind and duty, must study it as a partof the great campaign of the year. If there are organizers at workthere will be signals to-night, and I can see them from a tallneighboring church-spire. Yet how can I leave my child alone? How--"
"Mr. Vosburgh," cried Merwyn, "what honor or privilege could I askgreater than that of being your daughter's protector during yourabsence? I understand you perfectly. You feel that you must do yourduty at any cost to yourself. After what you have said, nothingcould induce me to go away. Indeed, I would stand guard withoutyour door, were there no place for me within."
"There, I won't thank you in words," said the elder man, wringingMerwyn's hand. "Will you do as I wish?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then lie down on the sofa in the front parlor and sleep while youcan. The least disturbance in the street would waken you there.Marian will watch from an upper window and give you warning ifanything occurs. It is possible that I may be set upon when returninghome, but I think not, for I shall enter the house from the rear;"and he told the young man of the means of exit which he had securedin case the house was attacked. "Rather than permit my child totake any risks," concluded the father, solemnly, "fly with her andthe woman who will be her companion till I return. Beyond the factof general danger to all homes, she does not suspect anything, norshall I increase her anxieties by telling her of my fears. She willbe vigilant on general principles. Have you arms?"
"I have fired most of my cartridges to-day."
"Well here is a revolver and a repeating rifle that you can dependupon. Do you understand the latter weapon?"
"Yes, I have one like it."
"I will now tell Marian of my plans, so far as it is wise for herto know them, and then, God help and protect us all! Come, I wishyou to lie down at once, for every moment of rest may be needed."
When they descended, Mr. Vosburgh said to his daughter, laughingly,"Mr. Merwyn is under orders, and can have nothing more to say toyou to-night."
The young fellow, in like vein, brought the rifle to his shoulder,presented arms to her, wheeled, and marched to his station in thedarkened front parlor. Before lying down, however, he opened oneblind for an outlook.
"Do you fear any special danger to-night, papa?" Marian asked,quickly.
"I have been expecting special dangers from the first," replied herfather, gently. "While I must do my duty I shall also take suchprecautions as I can. Merwyn will be your protector during myabsence. Now take your station at your upper window and do yourpart." He explained briefly what he expected of her. "In case ofan attack," he concluded, almost sternly, "you must fly before itis too late. I shall now go and prepare Mr. Erkmann for the possibleemergency, and then go out through the basement door as usual,after giving our loyal German her directions."
A few moments later he had departed, all were at their posts, andthe house was quiet.
Merwyn felt the necessity of rest, for every bone in his body achedfrom fatigue; but he did not dream of the possibility of sleep.His heart was swelling with pride and joy that he had become, notonly the friend of the girl he loved, but also her trusted protector.
But at last Nature claimed her dues, and he succumbed and slept.
Mr. Vosburgh, unmolested, climbed to his lofty height of observation.The great city lay beneath him with its myriad lights, but on ThirdAvenue, from 40th Street northward for a mile, there was a hiatusof darkness. There the mob had begun, and there still dwelt itsevil spirit uncurbed. The rioters in that district had cut offthe supply of gas, feeling, as did the French revolutionists, that"Light was n
ot in order."
Mr. Vosburgh watched that long stretch of gloom with the greatestanxiety. Suddenly from its mystery a rocket flamed into the sky.Three minutes elapsed and another threw far and wide its ominouslight. Again there was an interval of three minutes, when a thirdrocket confirmed the watcher's fears that these were signals. Fourminutes passed, and then, from the vicinity of Union Square, whatappeared to be a great globe of fire rose to an immense height.A few seconds later there was an answering rocket far off in theeastern districts of Brooklyn.
These were indeed portents in the sky, and Mr. Vosburgh was perplexedas to their significance. Were they orders or at least invitations,for a general uprising against all authority? Was the rebellionagainst the government about to become general in the great centresof population? With the gloomiest of forebodings he watched fortwo hours longer, but only heard the hoarse murmur of the unquietcity, which occasionally, off to the west, became so loud as tosuggest the continuance of the strife of the day. At last he wentto the nearest available point and sent his despatches, then stoleby a circuitous route to the dwelling of Mr. Erkmann, who waswatching for him.
Marian's vigilance was sleepless. While she had been burdenedthroughout the day with the deepest anxieties, she had been engagedin no exhausting efforts, and the novelty of her present positionand her new emotions banished the possibility of drowsiness. Shefelt as if she had lived years during the past two days. The citywas full of dangers nameless and horrible, yet she was consciousof an exaltation of spirit and of a happiness such as she had neverknown.
The man whom she had despised as a coward was her protector, andshe wondered at her sense of security. She almost longed for anopportunity to prove that her courage could now be equal to his,and her eyes flashed in the darkness as they glanced up and downthe dusky street; again they became gentle in her commiserationof the weary man in the room below, and gratefully she thanked Godthat he had been spared through the awful perils of the day.
Suddenly her attention was caught by the distant tramp of manyfeet. She threw open a blind and listened with a beating heart.Yes, a mob was coming, nearer, nearer; they are at the corner. Witha sudden outburst of discordant cries they are turning into thisvery street.
A moment later her hand was upon Merwyn's shoulder. "Wake, wake,"she cried; "the mob is coming--is here."
He was on his feet instantly with rifle in hand. Through the windowhe saw the dusky forms gathering about the door. The German womanstood behind Marian, crying and wringing her hands.
"Miss Vosburgh, you and the woman do as I bid," Merwyn said, sternly."Go to the rear of the hall, open the door, and if I say, 'Fly,'or if I fall, escape for your lives."
"But what will you--"
"Obey!" he cried, with a stamp of his foot.
They were already in the hall, and did as directed.
Imagine Marian's wonder as she saw him throw open the front door,step without, and fire instantly. Then, dropping his rifle on hisarm, he began to use his revolver. She rushed to his side and sawthe mob, at least three hundred strong, scattering as if swept awayby a whirlwind.
Merwyn's plan of operations had been bold, but it proved the bestone. In the streets he had learned the effect of fearless, decisiveaction, and he had calculated correctly on the panic which so oftenseized the undisciplined hordes. They probably believed that hisboldness was due to the fact that he had plenty of aid at hand.So long as there was a man within range he continued to fire, thenbecame aware of Marian's presence.
"O Miss Vosburgh," he said, earnestly, "you should not look onsights like these;" for a leader of the mob lay motionless on thepavement beneath them.
He took her hand, which trembled, led her within, and refastenedthe door. Her emotion was so strong that she dared not speak.
"Why did you take such a risk?" he asked, gravely. "What wouldyour father have said to me if one of those wretches had fired andwounded you?"
"I--I only realized one thing--that you were facing hundreds allalone," she faltered.
"Why, Miss Marian, I was only doing my duty, and I took the safestway to perform it. I had learned from experience that the bluff gameis generally the best. No doubt I gave those fellows the impressionthat there were a dozen armed men in the house."
But her emotion was too strong for control, and she sobbed: "It wasthe bravest thing I ever heard of. Oh! I have done you SUCH wrong!Forgive me. I--I--can't--" and she hastened up the dusky stairway,followed by her servant, who was profuse in German interjections.
"I am repaid a thousand-fold," was Merwyn's quiet comment. "My oathcannot blight my life now."
Sleep had been most effectually banished from his eyes, and as hestood in the unlighted apartment, motionless and silent, lookingout upon the dusky street, but a few moments passed before a manand a woman approached cautiously, lifted the slain rioter, andbore him away.
In less than half an hour Mr. Vosburgh entered his house from therear so silently that he was almost beside Merwyn before his approachwas recognized.
"What, Merwyn!" he exclaimed, with a little chiding in his tone;"is this the way you rest? You certainly haven't stood here, 'likePatience on a monument,' since I left?"
"No, indeed. You are indebted to Miss Vosburgh that you have a hometo come to, for I slept so soundly that the house might have beencarried off bodily. The mob has been here."
"O papa!" cried Marian, clasping her arms about his neck, "thankGod you are back safe! Oh, it was all so sudden and terrible!"
"But how, how, Merwyn? What has happened?"
"Well, sir, Miss Vosburgh was a better sentinel than I, and heardthe first approach of the ruffians. I was sleeping like old Riphimself. She wakened me. A shot or two appeared to create a panic,and they disappeared like a dream, as suddenly as they had come."
"Just listen to him, papa!" cried the girl, now reassured by herfather's presence, and recovering from her nervous shock. "Whyshouldn't he sleep after such a day as he has seen? It was his dutyto sleep, wasn't it? The idea of two sentinels in a small garrisonkeeping awake, watching the same points!"
"I'm very glad you obtained some sleep, Merwyn, and surely you hadearned it; but as yet I have a very vague impression of this moband of the fight. I looked down the street but a few moments ago,and it seemed deserted. It is quiet now. Have you not both sleptand dreamed?"
"No, papa," said the girl, shudderingly; "there's a dead man atthe foot of our steps even now."
"You are mistaken, Miss Vosburgh. As usual, his friends lost notime in carrying him off."
"Well, well," cried Mr. Vosburgh, "this is a longer story than I canlisten to without something to sustain the inner man. Riten,"--tothe servant,--"some fresh coffee please. Now for the lighteddining-room,--that's hidden from the street,--where we can lookinto each other's faces. So much has happened the last two daysthat here in the dark I begin to feel as if it all were a nightmare.Ah! how cosey and home-like this room seems after prowling in thedangerous streets with my hand on the butt of a revolver! Come now,Marian, sit down quietly and tell the whole story. I can't trustMerwyn at all when he is the hero of the tale."
"You may well say that. I hope, sir," with a look of mock severityat the young fellow, "that your other reports to papa are moreaccurate than the one I have heard. Can you believe it, papa? heactually threw open the front door and faced the entire mob alone."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Vosburgh, as I emptied my revolver andlooked around, a lady stood beside me. I've seen men do heroicthings to-day, but nothing braver than that."
"But I didn't think!" cried the girl; "I didn't realize--" and thenshe paused, while her face crimsoned. Her heart had since told herwhy she had stepped to his side.
"But you would have thought twice, yes, a hundred times," saidMerwyn, laughing, "if you hadn't been a soldier. Jove! how Strahanwill stare when he hears of it!"
"Please, never tell him," exclaimed the girl.
Her father now stood encircling her with his arm, and lookingfondly down upon her. "W
ell, thank God we're all safe yet! and,threatening as is the aspect of affairs, I believe we shall seehappy days of peace and security before very long."
"I am so glad that mamma is not in the city!" said Marian, earnestly.
"Oh that you were with her, my child!"
"I'm better contented where I am," said the girl, with a decidedlittle nod.
"Yes, but great God! think of what might have happened if Merwynhad not been here,--what might still have happened had he not hadthe nerve to take, probably, the only course which could have savedyou! There, there, I can't think of it, or I shall be utterlyunnerved."
"Don't think of it, papa. See, I'm over the shock of it already.Now don't you be hysterical as I was yesterday."
He made a great effort to rally, but it was evident that thestrong man was deeply agitated. They all, however, soon regainedself-control and composure, and spent a genial half-hour together,Merwyn often going to the parlor, that he might scan the street.After a brief discussion of plans for the morrow they separatedfor the night, Merwyn resuming his bivouac in the parlor. Afterlistening for a time he was satisfied that even mobs must rest,and, as the soldiers slept on their arms, he slumbered, his riflein hand.
When Marian bade her father good-night he took her face in hishands and gazed earnestly down upon it. The girl understood hisexpression, and the color came into her fair countenance like aJune dawn.
"Do you remember, darling, my words when I said, 'I do not knowhow much it might cost you in the end to dismiss Mr. Merwyn finally'?"
"Yes, papa."
"Are you not learning how much it might have cost you?"
"Yes, papa," with drooping eyes.
He kissed her, and nothing more was said.
CHAPTER L.
ZEB.