d　the　muttered　curses；　one　would　have　thought　a　parade　was　in　progress。
  The　first　company　had　now　passedpale；　haggard…　looking　men；　their　lips　twitching；　showing　little　flecks　of　dried　saliva　caked　in　the　corners　of　their　mouths；　their　hands　tight　about　the　butts　of　their　muskets。
  Oliver　looked　on　with　beating　heart。　The　dull；　monotonous　tramp　of　their　feet　strangely　affected　him。
  As　the　second　line　of　bayonets　came　abreast　of　the　awning…post；　a　blacksmith　in　a　red　shirt　and　leather　apron；　his　arms　bared　to　the　elbow；　sprang　from　the　packed　sidewalk　into　the　open　space　between　the　troops　and　the　gutter；　lifted　a　paving　stone　high　above　his　head　and　hurled　it；　with　all　his　might；　straight　against　the　soldier　nearest　him。　The　man　reeled；　clutched　at　the　comrade　next　him；　and　sank　to　the　ground。　Then；　quick　as　an　echo；　a　puff　of　white　smoke　burst　out　down　the　line　of　troops；　and　a　sharp；　ringing　report　split　the　air。　The　first　shot　of　defence　had　been　fired。
  The　whole　column　swayed　as　if　breasting　a　gale。
  Another　and　an　answering　shot　now　rang　through　the　street。　This　came　from　a　window　filled　with　men　gesticulating　wildly。　Instantly　the　troop。　wheeled；　raised　their　muskets；　and　a　line　of　fire　and　smoke　belched　forth。
  A　terrible　fear；　that　paled　men's　faces；　followed　by　a　moment　of　ominous　silence；　seized　upon　the　mob；　and　then　a　wild　roar　burst　out　from　thousands　of　human　throats。　The　rectangular　body　of　soldiers　and　the　ragged…edged　mob　merged　into　a　common　mass。　Men　wrenched　the　guns　from　the　soldiers　and　beat　them　down　with　the　butt　ends　of　the　muskets。　　Frenzied　policemen　hurled　themselves　into　the　midst　of　the　disorganized　militia；　knocking　up　the　ends　of　their　muskets；　begging　the　men　to　hold　their　fire。　The　air　was　thick　with　missiles；　bricks　from　the　house…tops；　sticks　of　wood　and　coal　from　the　fireplaces　　of　the　offices；　iron　bolts；　castings；　anything　the　crazed　mob　could　find　with　which　to　kill　their　fellow…men。　The　roar　was　deafening；　drowning　the　orders　of　the　officers。
  Oliver　clung　to　his　post；　not　knowing　whether　to　drop　into　the　seething　mass　or　to　run　the　risk　of　being　shot　where　he　was。　Suddenly　his　eye　singled　out　a　soldier　who　stood　at　bay　below　him；　swinging　his　musket；　　widening　the　circle　about　him　with　every　blow。　The　soldier's　movements　were　hampered　by　his　heavy　overcoat　and　army　blanket　slung　across　his　shoulder。　His　face　and　neck　were　covered　with　blood　and　dirt；　disfiguring　him　beyond　recognition。
  At　the　same　instant　Oliver　became　conscious　that　a　man　in　blue　overalls　was　creeping　up　on　the　soldier's　　rear　to　brain　him　with　a　cart…rung　that　he　held　in　his　hand。
  A　mist　swam　before　the　boy's　eyes；　and　a　great　lump　rose　in　his　throat。　The　cowardice　of　the　attack　incensed　him；　some　of　the　hot　blood　of　the　old　ancestor　　that　had　crossed　the　flood　at　Trenton　flamed　up　in　his　face。　With　the　quickness　of　a　cat　he　dropped　to　the　sidewalk；　darted　forward；　struck　the　coward　full　in　the　face　with　his　clenched　fist；　tumbling　him　to　the　ground；　wrenched　the　rung　from　his　hands；　and；　jumping　in　front　of　the　now　almost　overpowered　soldier；　swung　the　heavy　stick　about　him　like　a　flail；　clearing　the　space　before　him。
  The　assaulting　crowd　wavered；　fell　back；　and　then；　maddened　at　Oliver's　defence　of　the　invader；　with　a　wild　yell　of　triumph；　swept　the　two　young　men　off　their　feet；　throwing　them　bodily　down　the　steps　of　a　ship…chandler's　shop；　the　soldier　knocked　senseless　by　a　blow　from　a　brick　which　had　struck　him　full　in　the　chest。
  Oliver　lay　still　for　a　moment；　raised　his　head　cautiously　　and；　putting　forth　all　his　strength；　twisted　his　arms　around　the　stricken　man　and　rolled　with　him　into　the　cellar。　Then；　springing　to　his　feet；　he　slammed　the　door　behind　them　and　slipped　in　the　bolt；　before　the　mob　could　guess　his　meaning。
  Listening　at　the　crack　of　the　door　for　a　moment　and　finding　they　were　not　pursued；　he　stood　over　the　limp　body；　lifted　it　in　his　arms；　laid　it　on　a　pile　of　sails；　and　ran　to　the　rear　of　the　cellar　for　a　bucket　standing　under　a　grimy　window；　scarcely　visible　in　the　gloom；　now　that　the　door　was　shut。
  Under　the　touch　of　the　cold　water；　the　soldier　slowly　opened　his　eyes；　straining　them　toward　Oliver；　as　if　in　pain。
  The　two　men　looked；　intently　at　each　other；　the　soldier　passing　his　hand　across　his　forehead　as　if　trying　　to　clear　his　brain。　Then　lifting　himself　up　on　his　elbow　he　gasped：
  〃Horn！　Horn！　My　God！〃
  Oliver's　heart　stopped　beating。
  〃Who　are　you？〃
  〃John　Grant。〃
  Oliver　saw　only　Margaret's　face！
  As　though　he　were　working　for　the　woman　he　loveddoing　what　she　would　have　donehe　knelt　beside　the　wounded　man；　wiped　the　blood　and　grime　from　his　cheeks　with　his　own　handkerchief；　loosening　his　coat；　rubbing　his　hands；　murmuring　〃Old　fellow；〃　　〃Dear　John　〃：　there　was　no　time　for　other　interchange　of　speech。
  When　at　last　Grant　was　on　his　feet　the　two　men　barricaded　the　doors　more　strongly；　rolling　heavy　barrels　against　them；　the　sounds　from　the　street　seeming　　to　indicate　that　an　attack　might　be　made　upon　them。　But　the　mob　had　swept　on　and　forgotten　them；　as　mobs　often　do；　while　the　fugitives　waited；　hardly　daring　to　speak　except　in　detached　whispers；　lest　some　one　of　the　inmates　of　the　warehouse　overhead　　might　hear　them。
  Toward　noon　a　low　tap　was　heard　at　the　window；　which　was　level　with　an　alley　in　the　rear；　and　a　man's　hand　was　thrust　through　a　broken　pane。　Oliver　pressed　Grant's　arm；　laid　his　finger　on　his　lips；　caught　up　a　heavy　hammer　lying　on　an　oil…barrel；　crept　noiselessly　along　the　wall　toward　the　sound；　and　stopped　to　listen。　Then　he　heard　his　name　called　in　a　hoarse　whisper。
  〃Marse　Ollie！　Marse　Ollie！　Is　you　in　here？〃
  〃Who　is　it？〃　Oliver　called　back；　crouching　beneath　　the　window；　his　fingers　tight　around　the　handle　　of　the　hammer。
  〃It's　me；　Marse　Ollie。〃
  〃You！　Malachi！〃
  〃Yassir；　I'se　been　a…followin'　ye　all　de　mawnin'；　I　see　'em　tryin'　to　kill　ye　an'　I　tried　to　git　to　ye。　I　kin　git　throughyer　needn't　help　me；〃　and　he　squeezed　himself　under　the　raised　sash。　〃Malachi　like　de　snakecrawl　through　anywheres。　An'　ye　ain't　hurted？〃　he　asked　when　he　was　inside。　〃De　bressed　Lord；　ain't　dat　good！　I　been　a…waitin'　outside；　　I　was　feared　dey'd　see　me　if　I　tried　de　door。〃
  〃Where　are　the　soldiers？〃
  〃Gone。　Ain't　nobody　outside　at　all。Mos'　to　de　railroad　by　dis　time；　dey　tells　me。　An'　dere　ain't　nary　soul　'bout　dis　placeall　run　away。　Come　'long　wid　me；　sonI　ain't　gwine　ter　leabe　ye　a　minute。　Marse　Richard'll　be　waitin'。　Come　'long　home；　son。　I　been　a…followin'　ye　all　de　mawnin'。〃　The　tears　were　in　his　eyes　now。　〃An'　ye　ain't　hurted；〃　and　he　felt　him　all　over　with　trembling。　hands。
  John　raised　himself　above　the　oil…barrels。　He　had　heard　the　strange　talk　and　was　anxiously　watching　the　approaching　figures。
  〃It's　all　right；　Grantit's　our　Malachi；〃　Oliver　called　out　in　his　natural　voice；　now　that　there　was　no　danger　of　being　overheard。
  The　old　man　stopped　and　lifted　both　hands　above　his　head。
  〃Gor'…a…mighty！　an'　he　ain't　dead？〃　His　eyes　had　now　become　accustomed　to　the　gloom。
  〃No；　and　just　think；　Mally；　he　is　my　own　friend。　Grant；　this　is　our　Malachi　whom　I　told　you　about。〃
  Grant　stepped　over　the　barrel　and　held　out　his　hand　to　the　old　negro。　There　are　no　class　distinctions　　where　life　and　death　are　concerned。
  〃Glad　to　see　you。　Pretty　close　shave；　but　I　guess　I'm　all　right。　They'd　have　done　for　me　but　for　your　master。〃
  A　council　of　war　was　now　held。　The　uniform　would　be　fatal　if　Grant　were　seen　in　it　on　the　street。　Malachi　must　crawl　into　the　alley　again；　go　over　to　Oliver's　house；　and　return　at　dusk　with　one　of　Oliver's　　suits　of　clothes；　the　uniform　and　the　blood…　stained　shirt　could　then　be　hidden　in　the　cellar；　and　at　dark；　should　the　street　still　be　deserted；　the　three　would　put　on　a　bold　front　and　walk　out　of　the　front　door　of　the　main　warehouse　over　their　heads。　Once　safe　in　the　Horn　house；　they　could　perfect　plans　for　Grant's　rejoining　his　regiment。
  Their　immediate　safety　provided　for；　and　Malachi　gone；　Oliver　could　wait　no　longer　to　ask　about　Margaret。　　He　had　been　turning　over　in　his　mind　how　he　had　best　broach　the　subject；　when　her　brother　solved　the　difficulty　by　saying：
  〃Father　was　the　first　man　in　Brookfleld　to　indorse　the　President's　call　for　troops。　He'd　have　come　himself；　　old　as　he　is；　if　I　had　not　joined　the　regiment。　He　didn't　like　you；　Horn；　I　always　told　him　he　was　wrong。　He'll　never　forgive　himself　now　when　he　hears　what　you　have　done　for　me；〃　and　he　laid　his　hand　affectionately　on　Oliver's　shoulder　as　he　spoke。　〃I　liked　you　as　soon　as　I　saw　you；　and　so　did　mother；　and　so　does　Madge；　but　father　was　always　wrong　about　you。　We　told　him　so；　again　and　again；　and　Madge　said　that　father　would　see　some　day　that　you　got　your　politeness　from　the　Cavaliers　and　we　got　our　plain　speaking　from　the　Puritans。　The　old　gentleman　　was　pretty　mad　about　her　saying　so；　I　tell　you；　but　she　stuck　to　it。　Madge　is　a　dear　girl；　Horn。　A　fellow　always　knows　just　where　to　find　Madge；　no　nonsense　about　her。　She's　grown　handsome；　too　handsomer　than　ever。　There's　a　new　look　in　her　face；　somehow；　lately。　I　tell　her　she's　met　somebody　in　New　York　she　likes；　but　she　won't　acknowledge　it。〃
  Oliver　drank　in　every　word；　dr