Part 54 (1/2)

”Der cop run out der back door,” was all that she could be made to say in answer to fierce inquiries. Every apartment was examined in vain, and then the roughs departed in search of other prey. Brave, simple-hearted girl! She would have been torn to pieces had her humane strategy been discovered.

But a more memorable act of heroism was reserved for another woman, Mrs. Eagan, the wife of the man who had rescued Superintendent Kennedy a short time before. A policeman was knocked down with a hay-bale rung, and fell at her very feet. In a moment more he would have been killed, but this woman instantly covered his form with her own, so that no blow could reach him unless she was first struck.

Then she begged for his life. Even the wild-beast spirit of the mob was touched, and the pursuers pa.s.sed on. A monument should have been built to the woman who, in that pandemonium of pa.s.sion, could so risk all for a stranger.

I am not defending Merwyn's course, but sketching a character. His spirit of strategical observation would have forsaken him had he witnessed that scene, and indeed it did forsake him as he saw Barney Ghegan running and making a path for himself by the terrific blows of his club. Three times he fell but rose again, with the same indomitable pluck which had won his suit to pretty Sally Maguire.

At last the brave fellow was struck down almost opposite the balcony.

Merwyn knew the man was a favorite of the Vosburghs, and he could not bear that the brave fellow should be murdered before his very eyes; yet murdered he apparently was ere Merwyn could reach the street. Like baffled fiends his pursuers closed upon the unfortunate man, pounding him and jumping upon him. And almost instantly the vile hags that followed the marauders like harpies, for the sake of plunder began stripping his body.

”Stop!” thundered Merwyn, the second he reached the scene, and, standing over the prostrate form, he levelled a pistol at the throng.

”Now, listen to me,” he added. ”I don't wish to hurt anybody.

You've killed this man, so let his body alone. I know his wife, an Irishwoman, and she ought at least to have his body for decent burial.”

”Faix, an he's roight,” cried one, who seemed a leader. ”We've killed the man. Let his woife have what's left uv 'im;” and the crowd broke away, following the speaker.

This was one of the early indications of what was proved afterwards,--that the mob was hydra-headed, following either its own impulses or leaders that sprung up everywhere.

An abandoned express-wagon stood near, and into this Merwyn, with the help of a bystander, lifted the insensible man. The young fellow then drove, as rapidly as the condition of the streets permitted, to the nearest hospital. A few yards carried him beyond those who had knowledge of the affair, and after that he was unmolested. It was the policy of the rioters to have the bodies of their friends disappear as soon as possible. Poor Ghegan had been stripped to his s.h.i.+rt and drawers, and so was not recognized as a ”cop.”

Leaving him at the hospital, with brief explanations, Merwyn was about to hasten away, when the surgeon remarked, ”The man is dead, apparently.”

”I can't help it,” cried Merwyn. ”I'll bring his wife as soon as possible. Of course you will do all in your power;” and he started away on a run.

A few moments later Barney Ghegan was taken to the dead-house.

CHAPTER XLIII.

THE ”COWARD.”

MERWYN now felt that he had carried out the first part of his plan.

He had looked into the murderous eyes of the mob, and learned its spirit and purpose. Already he reproached himself for leaving Marian alone so long, especially as columns of smoke were rising throughout the northern part of the city. It seemed an age since he had seen that first cloud of the storm, as he emerged from the park after his quiet ride, but it was not yet noon.

As he sped through the streets, running where he dared, and fortunately having enough of the general aspect of a rioter to be unmolested, he noticed a new feature in the outbreak, one that soon became a chief characteristic,--the hatred of negroes and the sanguinary pursuit of them everywhere.

”Another danger for the Vosburghs,” he groaned. ”They have a colored servant, who must be spirited off somewhere instantly.”

Avoiding crowds, he soon reached the quiet side-street on which Marian lived, and was overjoyed to find it almost deserted. Mammy Borden herself answered his impatient ring, and was about to shut the door on so disreputable a person as he now appeared to be, when he shouldered it open, turned, locked and chained it with haste.

”What do you mean, sir? and who are you?” Marian demanded, running from the parlor on hearing the expostulations of her servant.

”Have patience, Miss Vosburgh.”

”Oh, it is you, Mr. Merwyn. Indeed I have need of patience. An hour ago papa sent a message from down town, saying: 'Don't leave the house to-day. Serious trouble on foot.' Since then not a word, only wild-looking people running through the street, the ringing of fire-bells, and the sounds of some kind of disturbance. What does it all mean? and why do you bar and bolt everything so timidly?”

and the excited girl poured out her words in a torrent.

Merwyn's first words were exasperating, and the girl had already pa.s.sed almost beyond self-control. ”Has any one seen your colored servant to-day?”