An Original Belle

by Edward Payson Roe

  MERWYN awoke early, and, as soon as he heard the German servantcoming down-stairs, wrote a line to Mr. Vosburgh saying that hewould call on his way to headquarters, and then hastened through thealmost deserted streets to his own home. To his great satisfactionhe found everything unchanged there. After luxuriating in a bathand a bountiful breakfast he again instructed his man to be on thewatch, and to keep up a fire throughout the coming night, so thata hot meal might be had speedily at any time.

  More than once the thought had crossed his mind: "Unless we makegreater headway with the riot, that attack on Mr. Vosburgh's housewill be repeated. Vengeance alone would now prompt the act, andbesides he is undoubtedly a marked man. There's no telling what mayhappen. Our best course is to fight, fight, knock the wretches onthe head. With the quelling of the mob comes safety;" and, rememberingthe danger that threatened Marian, he was in a savage mood.

  On this occasion, he went directly to Mr. Vosburgh's residence,resolving to take no risks out of the line of duty. His first thoughtnow was the securing of Marian's safety. He had learned that therewas no longer any special need for personal effort on his part togain information, since the police authorities had wires stretchingto almost every part of the city. An account of the risks takento keep up this telegraphic communication would make a strange,thrilling chapter in itself. Moreover, police detectives were busyeverywhere, and Mr. Vosburgh at headquarters and with the aid of hisown agents could now obtain all the knowledge essential. Thereforethe young fellow's plan was simple, and he indicated his course atonce after a cordial greeting from Mr. Vosburgh and Marian.

  "Hard fighting appears to me to be the way to safety," said he. "Ican scarcely believe that the rioters will endure more than anotherday of such punishment as they received yesterday. Indeed, I shouldnot be surprised if to-day was comparatively quiet."

  "I agree with you," said Mr. Vosburgh, "unless the signals I sawlast night indicate a more general uprising than has yet takenplace. The best elements of the city are arming and organizing.There is a deep and terrible anger rising against the mob and allits abettors and sympathizers."

  "I know it," cried Merwyn; "I feel it myself. When I think of thedanger which threatened your home and especially Miss Vosburgh, Ifeel an almost ungovernable desire to be at the wretches."

  "But that means greater peril for you," faltered the young girl.

  "No, it means the shortest road to safety for us all. A mob is likefire: it must be stamped out of existence as soon as possible."

  "I think Merwyn is right," resumed Mr. Vosburgh. "Another dayof successful fighting will carry us to safety, for the generalgovernment is moving rapidly in our behalf, and our militia regimentsare on their way home. I'll be ready to go to headquarters withyou in a minute."

  "Oh, please do not be rash to-day. If you had fallen yesterdaythink what might have happened," said Marian.

  "Every blow I strike to-day, Miss Vosburgh, will be nerved by thethought that you have one enemy, one danger, the less; and I shallesteem it the greatest of privileges if I can remain here to-nightagain as one of your protectors."

  "I cannot tell you what a sense of security your presence givesme," she replied. "You seem to know just what to do and how to doit."

  "Well," he answered, with a grim laugh, "one learns fast in thesetimes. A very stern necessity is the mother of invention."

  "Yes," sighed the girl, "one learns fast. Now that I have seen war,it is no longer a glorious thing, but full of unspeakable horrors."

  "This is not war," said Merwyn, a little bitterly. "I pity, whileI detest, the poor wretches we knock on the head. Your friends,who have fought the elite of the South will raise their eyebrowsif they hear us call this war."

  "I have but one friend who has faced a mob alone," she replied,with a swift, shy glance.

  "A friend whom that privilege made the most fortunate of men," hereplied. "Had the rioters been Southern soldiers, they would haveshot me instantly, instead of running away."

  "All my friends soon learn that I am stubborn in my opinions," washer laughing reply, as her father joined them.

  Mr. Erkmann on the next street north was a sturdy, loyal man, andhe permitted Mr. Vosburgh and Merwyn to pass out through his house,so that to any one who was watching the impression would be giventhat at least two men were in the house. Burdened with a sense ofdanger, Mr. Vosburgh had resolved on brief absences, believing thatat headquarters and through his agents he could learn the generaldrift of events.

  Broadway wore the aspect of an early Sunday morning in quiet times.Pedestrians were few, and the stages had ceased running. The ironshutters of the great Fifth Avenue and other hotels were securelyfastened. No street cars jingled along the side avenues; shopswere closed; and the paralysis of business was almost complete inits greatest centres. At police headquarters, however, the mostintense activity prevailed. Here were gathered the greater partof the police force and of the military co-operating with it Theneighboring African church was turned into a barrack. Acton occupiedother buildings, with or without the consent of the owners.

  The top floor of the police building was thronged with coloredrefugees, thankful indeed to have found a place of safety, but manywere consumed with anxiety on account of absent ones.

  The sanguine hopes for a more quiet day were not fulfilled, but theseverest fighting was done by the military, and cavalry now beganto take part in the conflict. On the west side, Seventh Avenue wasswept again and again with grape and canister before the mob gaveway. On the east side there were several battles, and in one ofthem, fought just before night, the troops were compelled to retreat,leaving some of their dead and wounded in the streets. GeneralBrown sent Captain Putnam with one hundred and fifty regularsto the scene of disaster and continued violence, and a sanguinaryconflict ensued between ten and eleven o'clock at night. Putnamswept the dimly lighted streets with his cannon, and when therioters fled into the houses he opened such a terrible fire uponthem as to subdue all resistance. The mob was at last learning thatthe authorities would neither yield nor scruple to make use of anymeans in the conflict.

  In the great centres down town, things were comparatively quiet.The New York Times took matters into its own hands. A glare oflight from the windows of its building was shed after night-fallover Printing-House Square, and editors and reporters had theirrifles as readily within reach as their pens.

  We shall not follow Merwyn's adventures, for that would involvesomething like a repetition of scenes already described. As theday was closing, however, he took part in an affair which explainedthe mystery of Mammy Borden's disappearance.

  During the first day of the riot the colored woman had seen enoughto realize her own danger and that of her son, and she was determinedto reach him and share his fate, whatever it might be. She hadno scruple in stealing away from Mr. Vosburgh's house, for by herdeparture she removed a great peril from her employers and friends.She was sufficiently composed, however, to put on a heavy veil andgloves, and so reached her son in safety. Until the evening of thethird day of the riot, the dwelling in which they cowered escapedthe fury of the mob, although occupied by several colored families.At last the hydra-headed monster fixed one of its baleful eyesupon the spot. Just as the occupants of the house were beginningto hope, the remorseless wretches came, and the spirit of Tophetbroke loose. The door was broken in with axes, and savage men streamedinto the dwelling. The poor victims tried to barricade themselvesin the basement, but their assailants cut the water-pipes and wouldhave drowned them. Driven out by this danger, the hunted creaturessought to escape through the yard. As Zeb was lifting his motherover the fence the rioters came upon her and dragged her back.

  "Kill me, kill me," cried Zeb, "but spare my mother."

  They seemed to take him at his word. Two of the fiends held hisarms, while another struck him senseless and apparently dead witha crowbar. Then, not accepting this heroic self-sacrifice, theybegan to beat the grief-frenzied mother. But retribution was athand. The cries of the victi
ms and the absorption of the riotersin their brutal work prevented them from hearing the swift, heavytread of the police. A moment later Merwyn and others rushed throughthe hallway, and the ruffians received blows similar to the onewhich had apparently bereft poor Zeb of life. The rioters wereeither dispersed or left where they fell, a wagon was impressed,and Zeb and his mother were brought to headquarters. Merwyn had soonrecognized Mrs. Borden, but she could not be comforted. Obtainingleave of absence, the young man waited until the evening grewdusky; then securing a hack from a stable near headquarters, theproprietor of which was disposed to loyalty by reason of his numerousblue-coated neighbors, he took the poor woman and the scarcelybreathing man to a hospital, and left money for their needs. Thecurtains of the carriage had been closely drawn; but if the crowdsthrough which they sometimes passed had guessed its occupants,they would have instantly met a tragic fate, while Merwyn's andthe driver's chances would have been scarcely better.

  CHAPTER LI.

  A TRAGEDY.