An Original Belle Part 57

Suddenly Mrs. Ghegan became still. In her embrace her hand had rested over her husband's heart, and had felt a faint pulsation.

A moment later she sprung up and rushed back to the office. Merwyn thought that she was partially demented, and could scarcely keep pace with her.

Bursting in at the door, she cried: "Och! ye b.l.o.o.d.y spalpanes, to put a loive man where ye did! Come wid me, an' oi'll tache ye that I knows more than ye all."

"Please satisfy her," said Merwyn to the surgeon, who was inclined to ignore what he regarded as the wild ravings of a grief-crazed woman.

"Well, well, if it will do any good; but we have too much to do to-day for those who have a chance--"

"Come on, or oi'll drag ye there," the wife broke in.

"When I've satisfied you, my good woman, you must become quiet and civil. Other wives have lost their husbands--"

But Sally was already out of hearing. Reaching the supposed corpse, the deeply excited woman said, with eyes blazing through her tears, "Put yez hand on his heart."

The surgeon did so, and almost instantly the expression of his face changed, and he said sharply to the attendant, "Bring a stretcher with bearers at once." Then to Sally: "You are right; he is alive, but there was no such pulsation as this when he was brought here.

Now be quiet and cheer up, and we may help you save his life. You can stay and take care of him."

Merwyn again took the wife's trembling hand and said, earnestly: "Mrs. Ghegan, obey the surgeon's orders exactly. Be quiet, gentle, and self-controlled, and Barney may outlive us all."

"Faix, Mr. Merwyn, now that oi've hope I'll be whist as a baby asleep. Ye knew me onst as a light, giddy gurl, but oi'll watch over Barney wid such a slapeless eye as wud shame his own mither."

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.

"G.o.d 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?"

"Beloikes they'll be yez best frin's. All roight. Dhrive on and moind your eye, or the bull-dog will bark."

They ordered a halt several times, while one and another went to a saloon for a drink. It was fast becoming evident that, should there be any want of courage or recklessness, whiskey would supply the lack.

Merwyn preserved nonchalant indifference, even when his disreputable companions were approached by those with whom they were in league, and information and orders were exchanged which he partially overheard. Although much was said in a jargon that he scarcely understood, he gathered that nothing less was on foot than an attack on police headquarters, in the hope of crushing at the start the power most feared. Therefore, while he maintained his mask, every sense was on the alert.

At length they reached Union Square, and the occupants of the hack alighted. Two went east and one west, while the leader said to Merwyn, who had also jumped down: "Take me to your gang. We're afther needing ivery divil's son of 'im widin the next hour or so.

It's a big game we're playin' now, me lad, an' see that ye play square and thrue, or your swateheart'll miss ye the noight."

"You'll have to have a bigger crowd on Broadway before you'll get our fellows out," Merwyn replied. "We're not going to face the cops until there's enough on hand to give us a livin' chance."

"There'll be plenty on hand--more'n ye ever seed in yer loife--before ye're an hour older. So lead on, and shtop your palaver. I'm not quite sure on ye yet."

"You soon will be," replied Merwyn, with his reckless and misleading laugh. "My course is down Broadway to Bleecker Street and then west. I can show you as pretty a lot of fellows as you'll want to see, and most of us are armed."

"All roight. Broadway suits me. I want to see if the coast is clear."

"So do I, and what the cops are about in these diggin's. The right thing to do is for all hands to pitch right on to them in Mulberry Street, and then the game's in our own hands."

"If that's the lark we have on foot, can ye promise that yer gang'll join us?"

"Yes, sir, for we'd know that meant business."

"How many could ye muster?"

"I hardly know. We were a-growin' fast when I left."

"Well, lead on loively. Ivery minute now should give me a dozen men, an' we want to start the blaze down this way. I tell ye it's a burning-up town."

"So I should guess from the smoke we see," said Merwyn, with his old laugh. "Jupiter! there comes a squad of cops."

"Well, what do we care? We're two paceable, dacent citizens, a-strollin' down Broadway."