“It’s a great disgrace to Massachusetts, sir, that she puts so many obstacles in the way of enforcing the laws of the United States,” replied Mr. Bell.

“If your grandson should be claimed as a slave, I rather think you would consider the writ of habeas corpus a wise and just provision,” said the plain-speaking Francis Jackson.  “It is said that this young stranger, whom they chased as a thief, and carried off as a slave, had a complexion no darker than his.”

“I take it for granted,” added Mr. Percival, “that you do not wish for a state of things that would make every man and woman in Massachusetts liable to be carried off as slaves, without a chance to prove their right to freedom.”

Mr. Bell answered, in tones of suppressed anger, his face all ablaze with excitement, “If I could choose who should be thus carried off, I would do the Commonwealth a service by ridding her of a swarm of malignant fanatics.”

“If you were to try that game,” quietly rejoined Francis Jackson, “I apprehend you would find some of the fire of ’76 still alive under the ashes.”

“A man is strongly tempted to argue,” said Mr. Percival, “when he knows that all the laws of truth and justice and freedom are on his side; but we did not come here to discuss the subject of slavery, Mr. Bell.  We came to appeal to your own good sense, whether it is right or safe that men should be forcibly carried from the city of Boston without any process of law.”

“I stand by the Constitution,” answered Mr. Bell, doggedly.  “I don’t presume to be wiser than the framers of that venerable document.”

“That is evading the question,” responded Mr. Percival.  “There is no question before us concerning the framers of the Constitution.  The simple proposition is, whether it is right or safe for men to be forcibly carried from Boston without process of law.  Two strangers have been thus abducted; and you say it is your captain’s business.  You know perfectly well that a single line from you would induce your captain to give those men a chance for a fair trial.  Is it not your duty so to instruct him?”

A little thrown off his guard, Mr. Bell exclaimed:  “And give an Abolition mob a chance to rescue them?  I shall do no such thing.”

“It is not the Abolitionists who get up mobs,” rejoined Francis Jackson.  “Garrison was dragged through the streets for writing against slavery; but when Yancey of Alabama had the use of Faneuil Hall, for the purpose of defending slavery, no Abolitionist attempted to disturb his speaking.”

A slight smile hovered about Mr. Percival’s lips; for it was well known that State Street and Ann Street clasped hands when mobs were wanted, and that money changed palms on such occasions; and the common rumor was that Mr. Bell’s purse had been freely used.

The merchant probably considered it an offensive insinuation, for his face, usually rubicund from the effects of champagne and oysters, became redder, and his lips were tightly compressed; but he merely reiterated, “I stand by the Constitution, sir.”