“That would be impossible.  Besides, I have some curiosity to learn whether I have a home left.  My report in brief amounts to little more than this.  Soon after our return from the mayor’s residence on Broadway we were ordered down to Printing-House Square.  Intelligence that an immense mob was attacking the Tribune Office had been received.  Our hasty march thither, and the free use of the club on our arrival, must account for my present plight.  You see, gentlemen, that I am not a veteran, only a raw recruit.  In a day or two I shall be more seasoned to the work.  You may say to your father, Miss Vosburgh, that the mob had been broken before we arrived.  We met them on their retreat across City-Hall Park, and nothing was left for us but the heavy, stupid work of knocking a good many of the poor wretches on the head.  Such fighting makes me sick; yet it is imperative, no doubt.  Inspector Carpenter is at City Hall with a large force, and the rioters are thoroughly dispersed.  I think the lower part of the city will be quiet for the night.”

“You were wise, Mr. Merwyn, to ride up town,” said Marian, gravely.  “I know well that you have been taxed to-day beyond the strength of any veteran.”

“How did you know that I rode up town?”

“I was watching for papa, and saw you leave your carriage.”

“I could never have reached home had I not secured a cab, and that reminds me that it is waiting around the corner; at least, the driver promised to wait.  I shall now say good-night.  Oh, by the way, in the press of other things I forgot to say that Mrs. Ghegan reached her husband, and that her good nursing, with surgical help, will probably save his life.”

Bowing to the agents, who had been listening and watching him with great curiosity, he turned to the door.

Marian opened it for him, and, stepping out into the dusky area, said, “I see that you do not forgive me.”

“And I have seen, to-day, Miss Vosburgh, that you detest me.  You showed the truth plainly when off your guard.  Your own pride and sense of justice may lead you to seek to make amends for an error in your estimate of me.  Having convinced you that I am not a coward, I have accomplished all that I can hope for, and I’m in no mood for hollow courtesies.  I shall do everything in my power to aid your father until the trouble is over or I am disabled, and then will annoy you no more.  Good-night;” and he strode away, with a firm, rapid step, proving that his pride for a moment had mastered his almost mortal weariness.

Marian returned to her post in the second story to watch for her father, her ears tingling, and every faculty confused, while excited, by the words Merwyn had spoken.  He had revealed his attitude towards her clearly, and, as she grew calmer, she saw it was not a mere question of the offence she had given him that morning which she had to face, but rather a deep-rooted conviction that he was personally detested.