And she kept her word.  For days and nights her husband remained unconscious, wavering between life and death.  The faithful woman, as indifferent to the tumult and havoc in the city as if it were in another land, sat beside him and furthered all efforts in a winning fight.

Merwyn saw him in a hospital ward, surrounded by skilful hands, before he took his leave.

“God bless ye!” Sally began.  “If yez hadn’t brought me—­”

But, pressing her hand warmly, he did not wait to hear her grateful words.

CHAPTER XLV.

The decisive battle.

Merwyn was now very anxious to reach police headquarters in Mulberry Street, for he felt that the safety of the city, as well as all personal interests dear to him, depended upon adequate and well-organized resistance.

The driver, having been promised a handsome reward to remain, still waited.  Indeed, he had gained the impression that Merwyn was in sympathy with the ruthless forces then in the ascendant, and he felt safer in his company than if returning alone.

Mounting the box again, Merwyn directed the driver to make his way through the more open streets to Broadway and 14th Street.

They had not gone far through the disturbed districts when four rough-looking men stopped them, took possession of the hack, and insolently required that they should be driven to Union Square.  The last ugly-visaged personage to enter the vehicle paused a moment, drew a revolver, and said, “An’ ye don’t ’bey orders, this little bull-dog will spake to ye next.”

The Jehu looked with a pallid face at Merwyn, who said, carelessly:  “It’s all right.  They are going in my direction.”

The quartet within soon began to entertain suspicions of Merwyn, and the one who had last spoken, apparently the leader, thrust his head out of the window and shouted:  “Shtop!  Who the divil is that chap on the box wid ye?”

“I’ll answer for myself,” said Merwyn, seeking to employ the vernacular as well as the appearance of an American mechanic.  “The driver don’t know anything about me.  A cop knocked a friend of mine on the head this morning, and I’ve been taking his wife to him.”

The driver now took his cue, and added, “Faix, and a nice, dacent little Irishwoman she was, bedad.”

“Then ye’re wan wid us?” cried the leader of the gang.

“It looks mighty like it,” was the laughing reply.  “This would be a poor place for me to hang out, if I was afraid of you or your friends.”

“Yez may bet your loife on that.  How coomes it ye’re so hand-and-glove wid an Irishman, when ye spake no brogue at all?”

“Thunder! man, do you think no one but Irishmen are going to have a fist in this scrimmage?  I’m as ready to fight as you are, and am only going down town to join my own gang.  Why shouldn’t I have an Irishman for a friend, if he’s a good fellow, I’d like to know?”