Her father seemed so genuinely hopeful and elated that Marian caught his spirit and gave every faculty to the task of aiding him.  Now that he was with her, all fears and forebodings passed; the nearer roll of the thunder was unheeded except as it called out the remark, “It will be too bad if Mr. Merwyn is out in the storm.”

Again her father laughed, as he said, “All the thunder gusts that have raged over the city are nothing to the storm which Merwyn has just faced.”

“O papa, you make me half wild with curiosity and impatience.  Must I wait until the coffee boils?”

“No,” was the still laughing reply.  “What is more, you shall have another surprising experience; you shall eat your supper—­for the first time, I imagine—­in the kitchen.  It will save time and trouble, and some of my agents may appear soon.  Well, well, all has turned out, so far, better than I ever hoped.  I have been able to keep track of all the most important movements; I have seen a decisive battle, and have sent intelligence of everything to Washington.  A certain man there cannot say that I have failed in my duty, unexpected and terrible as has been the emergency.  By morning the military from the forts in the harbor will be on hand.  One or two more such victories, and this dragon of a mob will expire.”

“Papa, should not something be done to find and protect Mammy Borden?”

“Yes, as soon as possible; but we must make sure that the city’s safe, and our own lives secure before looking after one poor creature.  She has undoubtedly gone to her son, as you suggest.  After such a scare as she has had she will keep herself and him out of sight.  They are both shrewd and intelligent for their race, and will, no doubt, either hide or escape from the city together.  Rest assured she went out heavily veiled and disguised.  She would have said good-by had she not feared you would detain her, and, as you say, her motive was probably twofold.  She saw how she endangered us, and, mother-like, she was determined to be with her son.”

“Come, papa, the coffee’s boiled, and supper, such as it is, is on the table.  Hungry as I am, I cannot eat till you have told me all.”

“All about the fight?”

“Yes, and—­and—­Well, what part did Mr. Merwyn take in it?”

“Ah, now I am to recite my epic.  How all is changed since Blauvelt kindled your eyes and flushed your cheeks with the narration of heroic deeds!  Then we heard of armies whose tread shook the continent, and whose guns have echoed around the world.  Men, already historic for all time, were the leaders, and your soldier friends were clad in a uniform which distinguished them as the nation’s defenders.  My humble hero had merely an ill-fitting policeman’s coat buttoned over his soiled, ragged blouse.  Truly it is fit that I should recite his deeds in a kitchen and not in a library.  When was the heroic policeman sung in homeric verse before?  When—­”