“Mr. Merwyn, will you take an older man’s advice?”
“Certainly. Indeed, I am under your orders, also, for the night.”
“I’m glad to hear it, for it will be a night of deep anxiety to me. Make a very light dinner, and take more refreshment later. You are too much exhausted to dine now. You need not tell me of your morning adventures. I learned about those at headquarters.”
“I have heard about them too,” Marian added, with a look that warmed the young fellow’s soul. “I have also had a visit from Mrs. Ghegan, and her story was not so brief as yours.”
“From what section have you just come?” Mr. Vosburgh asked.
Merwyn gave a brief description of the condition of affairs on the west side, ending with an account of the fight at the barricades.
“In one respect you are like my other friends, only more so,” Marian said. “You are inclined to give me Hamlet with Hamlet left out. What part did you take at the barricades?”
He told her in a matter-of-fact way.
“Ah, yes, I understand. I am learning to read between the lines of your stories.”
“Well, Heaven be thanked,” ejaculated Mr. Vosburgh, “that you demolished the barricades! If the rioters adopt that mode of fighting us, we shall have far greater difficulty in coping with them.”
At last Mr. Vosburgh said, “Will you please come with me to my library for a few minutes?”
On reaching the apartment he closed the door, and continued, gravely: “Mr. Merwyn, I am in sore straits. You have offered to aid me. I will tell you my situation, and then you must do as you think best. I know that you have done all a man’s duty to-day and have earned the right to complete rest. You will also naturally wish to look after your own home. Nevertheless my need and your own words lead me to suggest that you stay here to-night, or at least through the greater portion of it. I fear that I have been recognized and followed,—that I have enemies on my track. I suspect the man whom I discharged from the care of my office. Yet I must go out, for I have important despatches to send, and—what is of more consequence—I must make some careful observations. The mob seems to be a mere lawless, floundering monster, bent chiefly on plunder; but the danger is that leaders are organizing its strength as a part of the rebellion. You can understand that, while I look upon the outbreak with the solicitude of a citizen whose dearest interests are at stake, I also, from habit of mind and duty, must study it as a part of the great campaign of the year. If there are organizers at work there will be signals to-night, and I can see them from a tall neighboring church-spire. Yet how can I leave my child alone? How—”
“Mr. Vosburgh,” cried Merwyn, “what honor or privilege could I ask greater than that of being your daughter’s protector during your absence? I understand you perfectly. You feel that you must do your duty at any cost to yourself. After what you have said, nothing could induce me to go away. Indeed, I would stand guard without your door, were there no place for me within.”