They poured into the street and organized a mass-meeting in the square in front of the court house. Numbers of men came running from all directions and while the meeting was in progress word filtered out that the jury had found the prisoner guilty and the judge’s sentence had imposed a fine of one thousand dollars and costs and imprisonment for thirty days.
Resolutions were at once passed denouncing the judge and deciding, “since the courts no longer dispensed justice,” to proceed to the jail, liberate the other prisoners and protect them from the operations of “an outrageously unjust and tyrannous enactment.”
Delavan, looking on at the outskirts of the gathering, heard the resolutions. He knew that Rhoda would soon be conducted back to her quarters in the jail and he ran thither, hoping to arrive before the crowd of rescuers. In custody of the marshal she had just reached the jail entrance.
“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. “You are in danger here! A mob is coming to break in the doors. Marshal, bring her with me, so we can find a place of safety for her.”
She drew herself up and looked at him with the same pale face and brilliant eyes with which in the woods, so long ago, she had opposed his quest for his fugitive slave. Scarcely she seemed the same being who, only a few days before, had almost trembled into his embrace.
“No,” she said slowly, “these are my people and with them is where I belong. This is where your law has sent me and while I am in its power I want no place of safety. Marshal, take me in!”
The marshal was doubtful, asked Delavan what he meant and what he purposed to do, and while he hesitated the mob came rushing up the street and his only course was to hurry inside with her and bar the door.
The mass of men surged against the jail entrance and with pieces of timber and bars of iron soon forced their way in. Then they trooped through the building, sweeping along all the prisoners who were awaiting trial under the Fugitive Slave law. They urged Rhoda to walk out into freedom and defiance of her sentence. But she smilingly shook her head and told them:
“No, thank you. It’s better to serve out my sentence, and then I’ll be free to defy the law again in my own way.”
Exultantly the throng poured out into the street again with the prisoners, and faced two companies of militia, ready to fire. Even the hottest heads among them paused at this and after some parleying they agreed to disperse and allow the men to be taken back to confinement.