Part 9 (2/2)

Returning to the hotel, Webster entered the bar-room, and while he was being attended to two men came in, apparently engaged in excited conversation. They advanced to the bar and requested drinks. The excitement in the city, attendant upon the news from Baltimore, had not abated in the least since Webster had pa.s.sed through several days before, and these two men were discussing the action of the government in regard to this matter. One of them, an excitable, empty-headed fellow, was cursing the President and General Scott, in very loud tones and in unmeasured terms, for not burning the city of Baltimore to ashes, and thus teaching the rebels a lesson they would be apt to remember. The remonstrances of his friend seemed only to excite him still more, and Webster, feeling desirous of avoiding any controversy at that time, started to leave the saloon, when the angry disputant turned to him, and arrogantly demanded his opinion of the matter.

”I think,” said Webster, ”that the President and General Scott understand their duties much better than I can inform them, and I suppose they do not wish to destroy the property of many who are true to the government.”

”That is all nonsense,” replied the other, sharply, ”there is not a single Union man in the whole city.”

”I think you are mistaken,” said Webster, coolly. ”I am sure there are thousands of them there.”

This answer seemed to infuriate the man, and striding up to Webster, he asked, with an air of impertinence:

”Are you a Southern man?”

”No, sir, I was born in New York,” was the reply.

”What is your name?” impudently demanded the fellow.

”You will find my name upon the register of the hotel, if you desire it, and as I do not wish to have any further controversy with you, I bid you good morning,” replied Webster, still remaining cool and unruffled.

By this time a crowd of about twenty men had gathered about them, and as Webster turned to leave the room, one of them demanded to know the contents of the telegram he had just received.

This demand, added to the previous suggestion that Webster was a Southern man, was sufficient to excite the entire crowd, who had been living upon excitement for more than a week, and they began to press around him in a threatening manner, one of them calling out:

”I believe he is a d--d spy; let us see what he has got!”

Webster broke loose from those nearest to him, and retreating backwards toward the door, exclaimed, in a determined voice:

”Gentlemen, I am no spy, and if any of you attempt to trouble me further, some of you will a.s.suredly get hurt!”

At this the crowd grew boisterous and violent, and several called out, ”Hang him!” ”Hang the spy!” while some of them made a rush toward where he stood.

Drawing his revolver, Webster faced his angry a.s.sailants, who drew back involuntarily when they saw that he was both well armed and undismayed.

”Gentlemen, we have had enough of this nonsense. You can talk about hanging me, and perhaps there are enough of you to do it, but, by G.o.d, the first one that attempts to put his hands upon me is a dead man!”

Matters began to look serious. It seemed evident that these excited people were determined to resort to violence, and that there would be bloodshed in consequence. Webster, whose relations with the government were of so intensely loyal a character, was filled with regret at having allowed himself to become a party to a conversation which would lead to such serious consequences. He was resolved, however, to maintain his position. To show signs of weakness, therefore, would be dangerous, if not fatal, to him, and he stood bravely in front of the angry mob, who had drawn back at the sight of the revolver which was leveled so menacingly at them.

Only for a moment, however, did the crowd stand awed and irresolute--one moment of silence, in which every man appeared to be deciding for himself his course of action. Then one tall, stalwart man stepped from their midst, and waving his hand toward his companions, he cried out:

”Come on, he is only one against twenty, and we will take him dead, or alive!”

The crowd took a few steps in advance, and Webster had braced himself to receive their attack, when suddenly, close beside him stood a form, and a loud voice called out:

”Stop, gentlemen, where you are! This man is no traitor, and I will defend him with my life!” and the muzzles of two revolvers ranged themselves beside that presented by the suspected, but undismayed detective.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_Stop, Gentlemen, where you are._” P. 146.]

Involuntarily the crowd stood still at this unexpected arrival of reinforcements, and Webster, who had recognized the voice, looked up in surprise and relief at this unlooked-for, though timely, a.s.sistance.

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