"What had
brought him there at such a time?" "This!" he exclaimed, pointing to the
pallid form on the sofa. "To that man I owed every thing. To his
protection, to his generosity, to his nobleness of heart, I owed my
education, my hopes, all my prospects in life. I should have died a
thousand deaths rather than see a hair of his head touched--and now, there
he lies." He sank upon his knees, took the hand of the dead, and wept over
it in agony.

But I had no leisure to wait upon his remorse; the volleys were pouring
in, and the glare of the burning buildings showed me that the flames were
making fearful progress. "This," said I, "is your work. This murder is but
the first-fruits of your treason; probably every life in this house is
destined to butchery within the hour." He sprang on his feet. "No, no," he
cried, "we are not murderers. This is the frenzy of the populace.
Regeneration must not begin by massacre."

The thought suddenly struck me that I might make his fears, or his
compunctions, at the moment available.

"You are at my mercy," said I. "I might justly put you to death at the
instant, as a rebel, in the fact; or I might deliver you up to the law,
when your fate would be inevitable. I can make no compromise. But, if you
would make such atonement to your own conscience as may be found in
undoing a part of the desperate wrong which you have done, go out to those
robbers and murderers who are now thirsting for our blood, and put a stop
to their atrocities if you can; save the lives of those in the house; or,
if you cannot, die in the only attempt which can retrieve your memory."

He looked at me with a lacklustre eye for a moment, and uttered a few wild
words, as if his mind was wandering. I sternly repeated my demand, and at
length he agreed to try his influence with the multitude. I threw open the
door, and sent him out, adding the words--"I shall have my eye upon you.
If I find you swerve, I shall fire at you, in preference to any other man
in the mob. We shall die together." He went forth, and I heard his
recognition by the rebels, in their loud shouts, and their heavier fire
against our feeble defences. But, after a few moments, the shouting and
the fire ceased together. There was a pause; from its strangeness after
the tumult of the last hour, scarcely less startling than the uproar. They
appeared to be deliberating on his proposition. But while we remained in
this suspense, another change came; loud alte