An Original Belle Part 53

Converging from different avenues, men, women, and children were pouring by the thousand into a vacant lot near the park. Their presence seemed like a dream. Why was this angry mult.i.tude gathering here within a few rods of rural loveliness, their hoa.r.s.e cries blending with the songs of robins and thrushes? It had been expected that the red monster would raise its head, if at all, in some purlieu of the east side. On the contrary its segregate parts were coming together at a distance from regions that would naturally generate them, and were forming under his very eyes the thing of which he had read, and, of late, had dreamed night and day,--a mob.

To change the figure, the vacant s.p.a.ce, unbuilt upon as yet, was becoming an immense human reservoir, into which turgid streams with threatening sounds were surging from the south. His eyes could separate the tumultuous atoms into ragged forms, unkempt heads, inflamed faces, animated by some powerful destructive impulse. Arms of every description proved that the purpose of the gathering was not a peaceful one. But what was the purpose?

Riding closer he sought to question some on the outskirts of the throng, and so drew attention to himself. Volleys of oaths, stones, and sticks, were the only answers he received.

"Thank you," Merwyn muttered, as he galloped away. "I begin to comprehend your meaning, but shall study you awhile before I take part in the controversy. Then there shall be some knock-down arguments."

As he drew rein at a short distance the cry went up that he was a "spy," and another rush was made for him; but he speedily distanced his pursuers. To his surprise the great mult.i.tude turned southward, pouring down Fifth and Sixth avenues. After keeping ahead for a few blocks, he saw that the mob, now numbering many thousands, was coming down town with some unknown purpose and destination.

Two things were at least clear,--the outbreak was unexpected, and no preparation had been made for it. As he approached his home on a sharp trot, a vague air of apprehension and expectation was beginning to manifest itself, and but little more. Policemen were on their beats, and the city on the fas.h.i.+onable avenues and cross-streets wore its midsummer aspect. Before entering his own home he obeyed an impulse to gallop by the Vosburgh residence. All was still quiet, and Marian, with surprise, saw him clattering past in a way that seemed reckless and undignified.

On reaching his home he followed his groom to the stable, and said, quietly: "You are an old family servant, but you must now give me positive a.s.surance that I can trust you. There is a riot in the city, and there is no telling what house will be safe. Will you mount guard night and day in my absence?"

"Faix, sur, I will. Oi'll sarve ye as I did yer fayther afore ye."

"I believe you, but would shoot you if treacherous. You know I've been expecting this trouble. Keep the horse saddled. Bar and bolt everything. I shall be in and out at all hours, but will enter by the little side-door in the stable. Watch for my signal, and be ready to open to me only any door, and bolt it instantly after me.

Leave all the weapons about the house just where I have put them.

If any one asks for me, say I'm out and you don't know when I'll be back. Learn to recognize my voice and signal, no matter how disguised I am."

The faithful old servant promised everything, and was soon executing orders. Before their neighbors had taken the alarm, the heavy shutters were closed, and the unusual precautions that in the family's absence had been adopted rendered access possible only to great violence. On reaching his room Merwyn thought for a few moments. He was intensely excited, and there was a gleam of wild hope in his eyes, but he felt with proud exultation that in his manner he was imitating his father. Not a motion was hasty or useless.

Right or wrong, in the solitude of his room or in the midst of the mob, his brain should direct his hand.

"And now my hand is free!" he exclaimed, aloud; "my oath cannot shackle it now."

His first conclusion was to mingle with the mob and learn the nature and objects of the enemy. He believed the information would be valuable to Mr. Vosburgh and the police authorities. Having accomplished this purpose he would join any organized resistance he could find, at the same time always seeking to s.h.i.+eld Marian from the possibility of danger.

He had already been shown that in order to understand the character and aims of the mob he must appear to be one of them, and he decided that he could carry off the disguise of a young city mechanic better than any other.

This plan he carried out by donning from his own wardrobe a plain dark flannel suit, which, when it had been rolled in dust and oil, and received a judicious rip here and there, presented the appearance of a costume of a workman just from his shop. With further injunctions to Thomas and the old serving-woman, he made his way rapidly to the north-east, where the smoke of a conflagration proved that the spirit of mischief was increasing.

One would not have guessed, as he hurried up Third Avenue, that he was well armed, but there were two small, yet effective revolvers and a dirk upon his person. As has been related before, he had practised for this emergency, and could be as quick as a flash with his weapon.

He had acted with the celerity of youth, guided by definite plans, and soon began to make his way quietly through the throng that blocked the avenue, gradually approaching the fire at the corner of 45th Street. At first the crowd was a mystery to him, so orderly, quiet, and inoffensive did it appear, although composed largely of the very dregs of the slums. The crackling, roaring flames, devouring tenement-houses, were equally mysterious. No one was seeking to extinguish them, although the occupants of the houses were escaping for their lives, dragging out their humble effects.

The crowd merely looked on with a pleased, satisfied expression.

After a moment's thought Merwyn remembered that the draft had been begun in one of the burning houses, and was told by a bystander, "We smashed the ranch and broke some jaws before the bonfire."

That the crowd was only a purring tiger was soon proved, for some one near said, "There's Kennedy, chief of the cops;" and it seemed scarcely a moment before the officer was surrounded by an infuriated throng who were raining curses and blows upon him.

Merwyn made an impulsive spring forward in his defence, but a dozen forms intervened, and his effort was supposed to be as hostile as that of the rioters. The very numbers that sought to destroy Kennedy gave him a chance, for they impeded one another, and, regaining his feet, he led a wild chase across a vacant lot, pursued by a hooting mob as if he were a mad dog. The crowd that filled the street almost as far as eye could reach now began to sway back and forth as if coming under the influence of some new impulse, and Merwyn was so wedged in that he had to move with the others. Being tall he saw that Kennedy, after the most brutal treatment, was rescued almost by a miracle, apparently more dead than alive. It also became clear to him that the least suspicion of his character and purpose would cost him his life instantly. He therefore resolved on the utmost self-control. He was ready to risk his life, but not to throw it away uselessly,--not at least till he knew that Marian was safe. It was his duty now to investigate the mob, not fight it.

The next excitement was caused by the cry, "The soldiers are coming!"

These proved to be a small detachment of the invalid corps, who showed their comprehension of affairs by firing over the rioters'

heads, thinking to disperse them by a little noise. The mob settled the question of noise by howling as if a menagerie had broken loose, and, rus.h.i.+ng upon the handful of men, s.n.a.t.c.hed their muskets, first pounding the almost paralyzed veterans, and then chasing them as a wilderness of wolves would pursue a small array of sheep.

As Merwyn stepped down from a dray, whereon he had witnessed the scene, he muttered, indiscreetly, "What does such nonsense amount to!"

A big hulking fellow, carrying a bar of iron, who had stood beside him, and who apparently had had his suspicions, asked, fiercely, "An' what did ye expect it wud amount to? An' what's the nonsense ye're growlin' at? By the holy poker oi belave you're a spy."

"Yis, prove that, and I'll cut his heart out," cried an inebriated woman, brandis.h.i.+ng a knife a foot long.

"Yes, prove it, you thunderin' fool!" cried Merwyn.

"The cops are comin' now, and you want to begin a fight among ourselves."

True enough, the cry came ringing up the avenue, "The cops comin.'"

"Oh, an' ye's wan uv us, oi'll stan' by ye; but oi've got me eye on ye, and 'ud think no more o' brainin' ye than a puppy."

"Try brainin' the cops first, if yer know when yer well off," replied Merwyn, drawing a pistol. "I didn't come out to fight bullies in our crowd."

The momentary excitement caused by this altercation was swallowed up by the advent of a squad of police, which wheeled into the avenue from 43d Street, and checked the pursuit of the bleeding remnants of the invalid corps. Those immediately around the young man pressed forward to see what took place, he following, but edging towards the sidewalk, with the eager purpose to see the first fight between the mob and the police.

CHAPTER XLII.

THAT WORST OF MONSTERS, A MOB.

AFTER reaching the sidewalk Merwyn soon found a chance to mount a dry-goods box, that he might better observe the action of the police and form an idea of their numbers. The moment he saw the insignificant band he felt that they were doomed men, or else the spirit abroad was not what he thought it to be, and he had been witnessing some strong indications of its ruthless nature.

It was characteristic of the young fellow that he did not rush to the aid of the police. He was able, even in that seething flood of excitement, to reason coolly, and his thoughts were something to this effect: "I'm not going to throw away my life and all its chances and duties because the authorities are so ignorant as to sacrifice a score or two of their men. I shall not fight at all until I have seen Marian and Mr. Vosburgh. When I have done something to insure their safety, or at least to prove that I am not a coward, I shall know better what to do and how to do it. This outbreak is not an affair of a few hours. She herself may be exposed to the fury of these fiends, for I believe her father is, or will be, a marked man."

Seeing, farther up the avenue, a small balcony as yet unoccupied, he pushed his way towards it, that he might obtain one more view of the drift of affairs before taking his course. The hall-door leading to the second story was open and filled with a crowd of frightened, unkempt women and children, who gave way before him.

The door of the room opening on the balcony was locked, and, in response to his repeated knockings, a quavering voice asked what was wanted.

"You must open instantly," was his reply.

A trembling, gray-haired woman put the door ajar, and he pushed in at once, saying: "Bolt the door again, madam. I will do you no harm, and may be able to save you from injury;" and he was out in the balcony before his a.s.surances were concluded.

"Indeed, sir, I've done no one any wrong, and therefore need no protection. I only wish to be let alone with my children."

"That you cannot expect with certainty, in view of what is going on to-day. Do you not know that they are burning houses? As long as I'm here I'll be a protection. I merely wish the use of this little outlook for a brief time. So say nothing more, for I must give my whole attention to the fight."

"Well then, since you are so civil, you can stay; but the street is full of devils."

He paid no heed to her further lamentations, and looking southward saw that the police had formed a line across the avenue, and that such battered remnants of the invalid corps as had escaped were limping off behind their cover as fast as possible. The presence of the city's guardians had caused a brief hesitation in the approaching and broken edge of the rabble. Seeing this the brave sergeant ordered a charge, which was promptly and swiftly made, the mob recoiling before it more and more slowly as under pressure it became denser. There was no more effort to carry out the insane, rather than humane, tactics of the invalid corps, who had either fired high or used blank cartridges, for now the police struck for life with their locust clubs, and the thud of the blows could often be heard even above the uproar. Every one within reach of their arms went down, and the majority lay quietly where they fell, as the devoted little band pressed slowly forward. With regret Merwyn saw Barney Ghegan among the foremost, his broad red face streaming with perspiration, and he wielding his club as if it were the deadliest of s.h.i.+llalahs.

They did indeed strike manfully, and proved what an adequate force could do. Rioters fell before them on every side. But hopeless reaping was theirs, with miles of solid, bloodthirsty humanity before them. Slowly and more falteringly they made their way three blocks, as far as 46th Street, sustained by the hope of finding reinforcements there. Instead of these, heavier bodies of the enemy poured in from the side-streets upon the exhausted men, and the mob closed behind them from 45th Street, like dark, surging waves. Then came a mad rush upon the hemmed-in officers, who were attacked in front and in the rear, with clubs, iron-bars, guns, and pistols. Tom, bruised, bleeding, the force that had fought so gallantly broke, each man striking out for his own life. The vast heterogeneous crowd now afforded their chief chance for escape.

Dodging behind numbers, taking advantage of the wild confusion of the swaying, trampling ma.s.ses, and striking down some direct opponent, a few got off with slight bruises. There were wonderful instances of escape. The brave sergeant who had led the squad had his left wrist broken by an iron bar, but, knocking down two other a.s.sailants, he sprung into a house and bolted the door after him.

An heroic German girl, with none of the stolid phlegm attributed to her race, lifted the upper mattress of her bed. The sergeant sprung in and was covered up without a word. There was no time then for plans and explanations. A moment later the door was broken, and a score of fierce-visaged men streamed in. Now the girl was stolidity itself.