Part 64 (2/2)
”In one respect you are like my other friends, only more so,”
Marian said. ”You are inclined to give me Hamlet with Hamlet left out. 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 of your stories.”
”Well, Heaven be thanked,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Vosburgh, ”that you demolished the barricades! If the rioters adopt that mode of fighting us, we shall have far greater difficulty in coping with them.”
At last Mr. Vosburgh said, ”Will you please come with me to my library 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. I will 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 earned the right to complete rest. You will also naturally wish to look after your own home. Nevertheless my need and your own words lead me to suggest that you stay here to-night, or at least through the greater portion of it. I fear that I have been recognized and followed,--that I have enemies on my track. I suspect the man whom I discharged from the care of my office. Yet I must go out, for I have important despatches to send, and--what is of more consequence--I must make some careful observations. The mob seems to be a mere lawless, floundering monster, bent chiefly on plunder; but the danger is that leaders are organizing its strength as a part of the rebellion. You can understand that, while I look upon the outbreak with the solicitude of a citizen whose dearest interests are at stake, I also, from habit of mind and duty, must study it as a part of the great campaign of the year. If there are organizers at work there will be signals to-night, and I can see them from a tall neighboring church-spire. Yet how can I leave my child alone? How--”
”Mr. Vosburgh,” cried Merwyn, ”what honor or privilege could I ask greater than that of being your daughter's protector during your absence? I understand you perfectly. You feel that you must do your duty at any cost to yourself. After what you have said, nothing could induce me to go away. Indeed, I would stand guard without your door, were there no place for me within.”
”There, I won't thank you in words,” said the elder man, wringing Merwyn's hand. ”Will you do as I wish?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Then lie down on the sofa in the front parlor and sleep while you can. The least disturbance in the street would waken you there.
Marian will watch from an upper window and give you warning if anything occurs. It is possible that I may be set upon when returning home, 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 secured in case the house was attacked. ”Rather than permit my child to take any risks,” concluded the father, solemnly, ”fly with her and the woman who will be her companion till I return. Beyond the fact of general danger to all homes, she does not suspect anything, nor shall I increase her anxieties by telling her of my fears. She will be 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 depend upon. 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 her to know them, and then, G.o.d help and protect us all! Come, I wish you 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 to you 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 the darkened front parlor. Before lying down, however, he opened one blind 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 her father, gently. ”While I must do my duty I shall also take such precautions as I can. Merwyn will be your protector during my absence. Now take your station at your upper window and do your part.” He explained briefly what he expected of her. ”In case of an attack,” he concluded, almost sternly, ”you must fly before it is too late. I shall now go and prepare Mr. Erkmann for the possible emergency, and then go out through the bas.e.m.e.nt door as usual, after giving our loyal German her directions.”
A few moments later he had departed, all were at their posts, and the house was quiet.
Merwyn felt the necessity of rest, for every bone in his body ached from fatigue; but he did not dream of the possibility of sleep.
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