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, rushing upon the handful of men, snatched 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.”