They pushed their way towards the front of the crowd.
"This must be stopped, Ellis," said Carteret. "They are burning houses
and killing women and children. Old Jane, good old Mammy Jane, who
nursed my wife at her bosom, and has waited on her and my child within
a few weeks, was killed only a few rods from my house, to which she was
evidently fleeing for protection. It must have been by accident,--I
cannot believe that any white man in town would be dastard enough to
commit such a deed intentionally! I would have defended her with my own
life! We must try to stop this thing!"
"Easier said than done," returned Ellis. "It is in the fever stage, and
must burn itself out. We shall be lucky if it does not burn the town
out. Suppose the negroes should also take a hand at the burning? We have
advised the people to put the negroes down, and they are doing the job
thoroughly."
"My God!" replied the other, with a gesture of impatience, as he
continued to elbow his way through the crowd; "I meant to keep them in
their places,--I did not intend wholesale murder and arson."
Carteret, having reached the front of the mob, made an effort to gain
their attention.
"Gentlemen!" he cried in his loudest tones. His voice, unfortunately,
was neither loud nor piercing.
"Kill the niggers!" clamored the mob.
"Gentlemen, I implore you"--
The crash of a dozen windows, broken by stones and pistol shots, drowned
his voice.
"Gentlemen!" he shouted; "this is murder, it is madness; it is a
disgrace to our city, to our state, to our civilization!"
"That's right!" replied several voices.
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