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The Garies and Their Friends Part 29

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"I wonder what that means," said Mr. Walters, who had closed the shutter, and was surveying, through an aperture that had been cut, the turbulent ma.s.s below. "Look out for something soon."

He had scarcely finished speaking, when a voice in the street cried, "One--two--three!" and immediately there followed a volley of missiles, crushing in the windows of the chamber above, and rattling upon the shutters of the room in which the party of defenders were gathered. A yell then went up from the mob, followed by another shower of stones.

"It is now our turn," said Mr. Walters, coolly. "Four of you place yourselves at the windows of the adjoining room; the rest remain here. When you see a bright light reflected on the crowd below, throw open the shutters, and hurl down stones as long as the light is shining. Now, take your places, and as soon as you are prepared stamp upon the floor."

Each of the men now armed themselves with two or more of the largest stones they could find, from the heap that had been provided for the occasion; and in a few seconds a loud stamping upon the floor informed Mr. Walters that all was ready. He now opened the aperture in the shutter, and placed therein a powerful reflecting light which brought the shouting crowd below clearly into view, and in an instant a shower of heavy stones came crashing down upon their upturned faces.

Yells of rage and agony ascended from the throng, who, not seeing any previous signs of life in the house, had no antic.i.p.ation of so prompt and severe a response to their attack. For a time they swayed to and fro, bewildered by the intense light and crushing shower of stones that had so suddenly fallen upon them. Those in the rear, however, pressing forward, did not permit the most exposed to retire out of reach of missiles from the house; on perceiving which, Mr. Walters again turned the light upon them, and immediately another stony shower came rattling down, which caused a precipitate retreat.

"The house is full of n.i.g.g.e.rs!--the house is full of n.i.g.g.e.rs!" cried several voices--"Shoot them! kill them!" and immediately several shots were fired at the window by the mob below.

"Don't fire yet," said Mr. Walters to one of the young men who had his hand upon a gun. "Stop awhile. When we do fire, let it be to some purpose--let us make sure that some one is. .h.i.t."

Whilst they were talking, two or three bullets pierced the shutters, and flattened themselves upon the ceiling above.

"Those are rifle bullets," remarked one of the young men--"do let us fire."

"It is too great a risk to approach the windows at present; keep quiet for a little while; and, when the light is shown again, fire. But, hark!"

continued he, "they are trying to burst open the door. We can't reach them there without exposing ourselves, and if they should get into the entry it would be hard work to dislodge them."

"Let us give them a round; probably it will disperse those farthest off--and those at the door will follow," suggested one of the young men.

"We'll try it, at any rate," replied Walters. "Take your places, don't fire until I show the light--then pick your man, and let him have it. There is no use to fire, you know, unless you hit somebody. Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," was the prompt reply.

"Then here goes," said he, turning the light upon the crowd below--who, having some experience in what would follow, did their best to get out of reach; but they were too late--for the appearance of the light was followed by the instantaneous report of several guns which did fearful execution amidst the throng of ruffians. Two or three fell on the spot, and were carried off by their comrades with fearful execrations.

The firing now became frequent on both sides, and Esther's services came into constant requisition. It was in vain that her father endeavoured to persuade her to leave the room; notwithstanding the shutters had been thrown open to facilitate operations from within and the exposure thereby greatly increased, she resolutely refused to retire, and continued fearlessly to load the guns and hand them to the men.

"They've got axes at work upon the door, if they are not dislodged, they'll cut their way in," exclaimed one of the young men--"the stones are exhausted, and I don't know what we shall do."

Just then the splash of water was heard, followed by shrieks of agony.

"Oh, G.o.d! I'm scalded! I'm scalded!" cried one of the men upon the steps.

"Take me away! take me away!"

In the midst of his cries another volume of scalding water came pouring down upon the group at the door, which was followed by a rush from the premises.

"What is that--who could have done that--where has that water come from?"

asked Mr. Walters, as he saw the seething shower pa.s.s the window, and fall upon the heads below. "I must go and see."

He ran upstairs, and found Kinch and Caddy busy putting on more water, they having exhausted one kettle-full--into which they had put two or three pounds of cayenne pepper--on the heads of the crowd below.

"We gave 'em a settler, didn't we, Mr. Walters?" asked Caddy, as he entered the room. "It takes us; we fight with hot water. This," said she, holding up a dipper, "is my gun. I guess we made 'em squeal."

"You've done well, Caddy," replied he--"first-rate, my girl. I believe you've driven them off entirely," he continued, peeping out of the window.

"They are going off, at any rate," said he, drawing in his head; "whether they will return or not is more than I can say. Keep plenty of hot water, ready, but don't expose yourselves, children. Weren't you afraid to go to the window?" he asked.

"We didn't go near it. Look at this," replied Caddy, fitting a broom handle into the end of a very large tin dipper. "Kinch cut this to fit; so we have nothing to do but to stand back here, dip up the water, and let them have it; the length of the handle keeps us from being seen from the street. That was Kinch's plan."

"And a capital one it was too. Your head, Kinch, evidently has no batter within, if it has without; there is a great deal in that. Keep a bright look out," continued Mr. Walters; "I'm going downstairs. If they come again, let them have plenty of your warm pepper-sauce."

On returning to the drawing-room, Mr. Walters found Mr. Dennis, one of the company, preparing to go out. "I'm about to avail myself of the advantage afforded by my fair complexion, and play the spy," said he. "They can't discern at night what I am, and I may be able to learn some of their plans."

"A most excellent idea," said Mr. Walters; "but pray be careful. You may meet some one who will recognise you."

"Never fear," replied Mr. Dennis. "I'll keep a bright look out for that."

And, drawing his cap far down over his eyes, to screen his face as much as possible, he sallied out into the street.

He had not been absent more than a quarter of an hour, when he returned limping into the house. "Have they attacked you--are you hurt?" asked the anxious group by which he was surrounded.

"I'm hurt-, but not by them. I got on very well, and gleaned a great deal of information, when I heard a sudden exclamation, and, on looking round, I found myself recognized by a white man of my acquaintance. I ran immediately; and whether I was pursued or not, I'm unable to say. I had almost reached here, when my foot caught in a grating and gave my ancle such a wrench that I'm unable to stand." As he spoke, his face grew pale from the suffering the limb was occasioning. "I'm sorry, very sorry," he continued, limping to the sofa; "I was going out again immediately. They intend making an attack on Mr. Garie's house: I didn't hear his name mentioned, but I heard one of the men, who appeared to be a ringleader, say, 'We're going up to Winter-street, to give a coat of tar and feathers to a white man, who is married to a n.i.g.g.e.r woman.' They can allude to none but him. How annoying that this accident should have happened just now, of all times. They ought to be warned."

"Oh, poor Emily!" cried Esther, bursting into tears; "it will kill her, I know it will; she is so ill. Some one must go and warn them. Let me try; the mob, even if I met them, surely would not a.s.sault a woman."

"You mustn't think of such a thing, Esther," exclaimed Mr. Walters; "the idea isn't to be entertained for a moment. You don't know what ruthless wretches they are. Your colour discovered you would find your s.e.x but a trifling protection. I'd go, but it would be certain death to me: my black face would quickly obtain for me a pa.s.sport to another world if I were discovered in the street just now."

"I'll go," calmly spoke Mr. Ellis. "I can't rest here and think of what they are exposed to. By skulking through bye-streets and keeping under the shadows of houses I may escape observation--at any rate, I must run the risk." And he began to b.u.t.ton up his coat. "Don't let your mother know I'm gone; stick by her, my girl," said he, kissing Esther; "trust in G.o.d,--He'll protect me."

Esther hung sobbing on her father's neck. "Oh, father, father," said she, "I couldn't bear to see you go for any one but Emily and the children."

"I know it, dear," he replied; "it's my duty. Garie would do the same for me, I know, even at greater risk. Good-bye! good-bye!" And, disengaging himself from the weeping girl, he started on his errand of mercy.

Walking swiftly forwards, he pa.s.sed over more than two-thirds of the way without the slightest interruption, the streets through which he pa.s.sed being almost entirely deserted. He had arrived within a couple of squares of the Garies, when suddenly, on turning a corner, he found himself in the midst of a gang of ruffians.

"Here's a n.i.g.g.e.r! here's a n.i.g.g.e.r!" shouted two or three of them, almost simultaneously, making at the same time a rush at Mr. Ellis, who turned and ran, followed by the whole gang. Fear lent him wings, and he fast outstripped his pursuers, and would have entirely escaped, had he not turned into a street which unfortunately was closed at the other end. This he did not discover until it was too late to retrace his steps, his pursuers having already entered the street.

Looking for some retreat, he perceived he was standing near an unfinished building. Tearing off the boards that were nailed across the window, he vaulted into the room, knocking off his hat, which fell upon the pavement behind him. Scarcely had he groped his way to the staircase of the dwelling when he heard the footsteps of his pursuers.

"He can't have got through," exclaimed one of them, "the street is closed up at the end; he must be up here somewhere."

Lighting one of their torches, they began to look around them, and soon discovered the hat lying beneath the window.

"He's in here, boys; we've tree'd the 'c.o.o.n," laughingly exclaimed one of the ruffians. "Let's after him."

Tearing off the remainder of the boards, one or two entered, opened the door from the inside, and gave admission to the rest.

Mr. Ellis mounted to the second story, followed by his pursuers; on he went, until he reached the attic, from which a ladder led to the roof.

Ascending this, he drew it up after him, and found himself on the roof of a house that was entirely isolated.

The whole extent of the danger flashed upon him at once. Here he was completely hemmed in, without the smallest chance for escape. He approached the edge and looked over, but could discover nothing near enough to reach by a leap.

"I must sell my life dearly," he said. "G.o.d be my helper now--He is all I have to rely upon." And as he spoke, the great drops of sweat fell from his forehead. Espying a sheet of lead upon the roof, he rolled it into a club of tolerable thickness, and waited the approach of his pursuers.

"He's gone on the roof," he heard one of them exclaim, "and pulled the ladder up after him." Just then, a head emerged from the trap-door, the owner of which, perceiving Mr. Ellis, set up a shout of triumph.

"We've got him! we've got him!--here he is!" which cries were answered by the exultant voices of his comrades below.

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The Garies and Their Friends Part 29 summary

You're reading The Garies and Their Friends. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Frank J. Webb. Already has 637 views.

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