lack men of Wilmington, that you may shoot
them down with impunity, you are low enough to take advantage of their
helplessness to insult weak women. But here I stand!" she cried,
stepping backward, and drawing a gleaming revolver from beneath her
cloak. "Search me! but it must be done when the body is lifeless; I'll
be a target for the whole of you before I'm searched; so let the battle
begin."

The men stared at the woman in amazement. "Pluckies' Nigger gal we're
tackled ter day!" exclaimed a gruff and rough-looking chap. "Got grit
enough ter buil er fort. Let her go, men; not er hair un her hed mus' be
tech'd!" The men stepped to one side, and Molly proceeded on her way.
When she reached Front street the sight which met her gaze caused her
blood to chill. From Front to Water street below was choked with armed
men. To pass through such a crowd without much more difficulty was
impossible. "Too late!" she sobbed. Rushing across the railroad bridge,
she hastily descended the steps to the road below, crossed the tracks to
the shed of the great compress, and entered by one of the large side
doors. News of burning and pillage on Dry Pond had been conveyed to the
workmen by another, and the news had brought confusion among them
indescribable. At the main entrance to the press stood an army of
whites, ready to shoot them down as they rushed forth to go to the
rescue of their wives and little ones whom they thought were being
murdered. White men with a cannon mounted on a lighter anchored in the
river just opposite were waiting to fire upon those driven back by the
fire from Colonel Moss' riflemen in Water street.

A crowd of frightened and angry men hastily retreating towards this
death-trap were suddenly confronted by a woman, who like an heavenly
messenger, stood with uplifted hand, her hair streaming in the wind.
"Back! Back men!" she cried. "To go to the river is to be killed also;
they're waiting there for the opportunity." "Molly Pierrepont!"
exclaimed one of the men in astonishment. "No time for questions now!"
said the woman; "your only safety from slaughter is to remain in this
shed; you are not able to cope with that mob of cowards on the outside,
who now are even searching women in a most shameful manner on the
streets. Back! Don't rush like fools to death." Molly's head began to
whirl. Before any one could reach out a hand to catch her, she sank in a
swoon upon the floor. Tenderly the prostrate form was lifted up,