During the first day of the riot the colored woman had seen enough to realize her own danger and that of her son, and she was determined to reach him and share his fate, whatever it might be.  She had no scruple in stealing away from Mr. Vosburgh’s house, for by her departure she removed a great peril from her employers and friends.  She was sufficiently composed, however, to put on a heavy veil and gloves, and so reached her son in safety.  Until the evening of the third day of the riot, the dwelling in which they cowered escaped the fury of the mob, although occupied by several colored families.  At last the hydra-headed monster fixed one of its baleful eyes upon the spot.  Just as the occupants of the house were beginning to hope, the remorseless wretches came, and the spirit of Tophet broke loose.  The door was broken in with axes, and savage men streamed into the dwelling.  The poor victims tried to barricade themselves in the basement, but their assailants cut the water-pipes and would have drowned them.  Driven out by this danger, the hunted creatures sought to escape through the yard.  As Zeb was lifting his mother over the fence the rioters came upon her and dragged her back.

“Kill me, kill me,” cried Zeb, “but spare my mother.”

They seemed to take him at his word.  Two of the fiends held his arms, while another struck him senseless and apparently dead with a crowbar.  Then, not accepting this heroic self-sacrifice, they began to beat the grief-frenzied mother.  But retribution was at hand.  The cries of the victims and the absorption of the rioters in their brutal work prevented them from hearing the swift, heavy tread of the police.  A moment later Merwyn and others rushed through the hallway, and the ruffians received blows similar to the one which had apparently bereft poor Zeb of life.  The rioters were either dispersed or left where they fell, a wagon was impressed, and Zeb and his mother were brought to headquarters.  Merwyn had soon recognized Mrs. Borden, but she could not be comforted.  Obtaining leave of absence, the young man waited until the evening grew dusky; then securing a hack from a stable near headquarters, the proprietor of which was disposed to loyalty by reason of his numerous blue-coated neighbors, he took the poor woman and the scarcely breathing man to a hospital, and left money for their needs.  The curtains of the carriage had been closely drawn; but if the crowds through which they sometimes passed had guessed its occupants, they would have instantly met a tragic fate, while Merwyn’s and the driver’s chances would have been scarcely better.

CHAPTER LI.

A tragedy.