“I have but one friend who has faced a mob alone,” she replied, with a swift, shy glance.

“A friend whom that privilege made the most fortunate of men,” he replied.  “Had the rioters been Southern soldiers, they would have shot me instantly, instead of running away.”

“All my friends soon learn that I am stubborn in my opinions,” was her laughing reply, as her father joined them.

Mr. Erkmann on the next street north was a sturdy, loyal man, and he permitted Mr. Vosburgh and Merwyn to pass out through his house, so that to any one who was watching the impression would be given that at least two men were in the house.  Burdened with a sense of danger, Mr. Vosburgh had resolved on brief absences, believing that at headquarters and through his agents he could learn the general drift of events.

Broadway wore the aspect of an early Sunday morning in quiet times.  Pedestrians were few, and the stages had ceased running.  The iron shutters of the great Fifth Avenue and other hotels were securely fastened.  No street cars jingled along the side avenues; shops were closed; and the paralysis of business was almost complete in its greatest centres.  At police headquarters, however, the most intense activity prevailed.  Here were gathered the greater part of the police force and of the military co-operating with it The neighboring African church was turned into a barrack.  Acton occupied other buildings, with or without the consent of the owners.

The top floor of the police building was thronged with colored refugees, thankful indeed to have found a place of safety, but many were consumed with anxiety on account of absent ones.

The sanguine hopes for a more quiet day were not fulfilled, but the severest fighting was done by the military, and cavalry now began to take part in the conflict.  On the west side, Seventh Avenue was swept again and again with grape and canister before the mob gave way.  On the east side there were several battles, and in one of them, fought just before night, the troops were compelled to retreat, leaving some of their dead and wounded in the streets.  General Brown sent Captain Putnam with one hundred and fifty regulars to the scene of disaster and continued violence, and a sanguinary conflict ensued between ten and eleven o’clock at night.  Putnam swept the dimly lighted streets with his cannon, and when the rioters fled into the houses he opened such a terrible fire upon them as to subdue all resistance.  The mob was at last learning that the authorities would neither yield nor scruple to make use of any means in the conflict.

In the great centres down town, things were comparatively quiet.  The New York Times took matters into its own hands.  A glare of light from the windows of its building was shed after night-fall over Printing-House Square, and editors and reporters had their rifles as readily within reach as their pens.

We shall not follow Merwyn’s adventures, for that would involve something like a repetition of scenes already described.  As the day was closing, however, he took part in an affair which explained the mystery of Mammy Borden’s disappearance.