Part 65 (1/2)

His heart was swelling with pride and joy that he had become, not only the friend of the girl he loved, but also her trusted protector.

But at last Nature claimed her dues, and he succ.u.mbed and slept.

Mr. Vosburgh, unmolested, climbed to his lofty height of observation.

The great city lay beneath him with its myriad lights, but on Third Avenue, from 40th Street northward for a mile, there was a hiatus of darkness. There the mob had begun, and there still dwelt its evil spirit uncurbed. The rioters in that district had cut off the supply of gas, feeling, as did the French revolutionists, that ”Light was not in order.”

Mr. Vosburgh watched that long stretch of gloom with the greatest anxiety. Suddenly from its mystery a rocket flamed into the sky.

Three minutes elapsed and another threw far and wide its ominous light. Again there was an interval of three minutes, when a third rocket confirmed the watcher's fears that these were signals. Four minutes pa.s.sed, and then, from the vicinity of Union Square, what appeared to be a great globe of fire rose to an immense height.

A few seconds later there was an answering rocket far off in the eastern districts of Brooklyn.

These were indeed portents in the sky, and Mr. Vosburgh was perplexed as to their significance. Were they orders or at least invitations, for a general uprising against all authority? Was the rebellion against the government about to become general in the great centres of population? With the gloomiest of forebodings he watched for two hours longer, but only heard the hoa.r.s.e murmur of the unquiet city, which occasionally, off to the west, became so loud as to suggest the continuance of the strife of the day. At last he went to the nearest available point and sent his despatches, then stole by a circuitous route to the dwelling of Mr. Erkmann, who was watching for him.

Marian's vigilance was sleepless. While she had been burdened throughout the day with the deepest anxieties, she had been engaged in no exhausting efforts, and the novelty of her present position and her new emotions banished the possibility of drowsiness. She felt as if she had lived years during the past two days. The city was full of dangers nameless and horrible, yet she was conscious of an exaltation of spirit and of a happiness such as she had never known.

The man whom she had despised as a coward was her protector, and she wondered at her sense of security. She almost longed for an opportunity to prove that her courage could now be equal to his, and her eyes flashed in the darkness as they glanced up and down the dusky street; again they became gentle in her commiseration of the weary man in the room below, and gratefully she thanked G.o.d that he had been spared through the awful perils of the day.

Suddenly her attention was caught by the distant tramp of many feet. She threw open a blind and listened with a beating heart.

Yes, a mob was coming, nearer, nearer; they are at the corner. With a sudden outburst of discordant cries they are turning into this very 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 window he saw the dusky forms gathering about the door. The German woman stood 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 his arm, he began to use his revolver. She rushed to his side and saw the mob, at least three hundred strong, scattering as if swept away by a whirlwind.

Merwyn's plan of operations had been bold, but it proved the best one. In the streets he had learned the effect of fearless, decisive action, and he had calculated correctly on the panic which so often seized the undisciplined hordes. They probably believed that his boldness 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, then became aware of Marian's presence.

”O Miss Vosburgh,” he said, earnestly, ”you should not look on sights like these;” for a leader of the mob lay motionless on the pavement beneath them.

He took her hand, which trembled, led her within, and refastened the door. Her emotion was so strong that she dared not speak.

”Why did you take such a risk?” he asked, gravely. ”What would your father have said to me if one of those wretches had fired and wounded you?”

”I--I only realized one thing--that you were facing hundreds all alone,” she faltered.