“But how, how, Merwyn?  What has happened?”

“Well, sir, Miss Vosburgh was a better sentinel than I, and heard the first approach of the ruffians.  I was sleeping like old Rip himself.  She wakened me.  A shot or two appeared to create a panic, and they disappeared like a dream, as suddenly as they had come.”

“Just listen to him, papa!” cried the girl, now reassured by her father’s presence, and recovering from her nervous shock.  “Why shouldn’t he sleep after such a day as he has seen?  It was his duty to sleep, wasn’t it?  The idea of two sentinels in a small garrison keeping awake, watching the same points!”

“I’m very glad you obtained some sleep, Merwyn, and surely you had earned it; but as yet I have a very vague impression of this mob and of the fight.  I looked down the street but a few moments ago, and it seemed deserted.  It is quiet now.  Have you not both slept and dreamed?”

“No, papa,” said the girl, shudderingly; “there’s a dead man at the foot of our steps even now.”

“You are mistaken, Miss Vosburgh.  As usual, his friends lost no time in carrying him off.”

“Well, well,” cried Mr. Vosburgh, “this is a longer story than I can listen to without something to sustain the inner man.  “Riten,”—­to the servant,—­“some fresh coffee please.  Now for the lighted dining-room,—­that’s hidden from the street,—­where we can look into each other’s faces.  So much has happened the last two days that here in the dark I begin to feel as if it all were a nightmare.  Ah! how cosey and home-like this room seems after prowling in the dangerous streets with my hand on the butt of a revolver!  Come now, Marian, sit down quietly and tell the whole story.  I can’t trust Merwyn at all when he is the hero of the tale.”

“You may well say that.  I hope, sir,” with a look of mock severity at the young fellow, “that your other reports to papa are more accurate than the one I have heard.  Can you believe it, papa? he actually threw open the front door and faced the entire mob alone.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Vosburgh, as I emptied my revolver and looked around, a lady stood beside me.  I’ve seen men do heroic things to-day, but nothing braver than that.”

“But I didn’t think!” cried the girl; “I didn’t realize—­” and then she paused, while her face crimsoned.  Her heart had since told her why she had stepped to his side.

“But you would have thought twice, yes, a hundred times,” said Merwyn, laughing, “if you hadn’t been a soldier.  Jove! how Strahan will stare when he hears of it!”

“Please, never tell him,” exclaimed the girl.

Her father now stood encircling her with his arm, and looking fondly down upon her.  “Well, thank God we’re all safe yet! and, threatening as is the aspect of affairs, I believe we shall see happy days of peace and security before very long.”

“I am so glad that mamma is not in the city!” said Marian, earnestly.