He did not tell them that he had ordered a simple little dinner for the three of them at the far end of the room, where they could be almost in private; and when C. B. saw the pretty little table decorated with choice flowers, his face lighted up, and with great delight he called his bride’s attention to what he considered the kindly behaviour of the proprietor.
The meal proceeded in the happiest fashion, for though the food was of the simplest and best they all ate but sparingly, for their hearts were full of joy and their minds full of hope. But they could not help noticing that at a table not far from them there was a party of four young men whose behaviour, from being quiet and gentlemanly at the outset, as bottle after bottle of champagne was emptied became boisterous and rude. Presently it became evident that their attention was entirely directed to the table where our friends sat, and as their voices grew louder and louder the epithet “nigger” was frequently heard. Mr. Stewart and Mrs. Adams heard all too clearly, but C. B. was quite unmoved, for although he heard the uproar he did not understand its import. At last one of the roysterers rose and shouted for the head waiter, who came instantly; whereupon the young man demanded to know why a nigger, coupling the word with other abuse, was allowed to dine in the same room with white men.
The head waiter endeavoured to explain, but as he did so the other three joined in the talk, which grew louder and louder until the proprietor was brought up by one of the other waiters. By this time Mr. Stewart was fully alive to what was going on, as was his daughter, and Mary whispered her father that they might slip away. But there was a dangerous look in the old man’s eyes now and he indignantly repudiated the suggestion. Then C. B. leaned over and asked him whatever could be the matter, and how the broil at another table could affect them. Stewart looked straight at him for a moment and then said—
“The wine has got into their foolish heads, and they are discussing you as a nigger who has no right to dine in the same room as them. And if I know the signs, unless the proprietor is a man of grit, there’s going to be big trouble.”
He had hardly uttered the words before a big raw-boned youth sprang to his feet and shouted—
“It’s an outrage to have to sit in the same room with a nigger, and you are a beast to allow it. But I’m going to have him out of it as you haven’t got the grit, and so here goes.”
With that the crazy creature leapt across the room knocking his chair half a dozen feet away, and seized the unconscious C. B. by the collar and arm, at the same time yelling foul abuse. There was a shriek from Mary, but her father held her arm as she was about to spring to her husband’s rescue.
“Keep quiet,” he said, “this is where your husband comes in.”
Indeed it was, for C. B., as quietly as if he had been invited to look at something, rose from his seat and winding his arms around the frantic youth placed him helpless on the floor. This unexpected defeat of their champion enraged the other three, who rushed to the rescue, but were in their turn, attacked by the waiters, who at the proprietor’s bidding charged on them in force, and succeeded in overpowering them.
Then C. B. lifted his prostrate enemy into a chair, and holding him with one hand as if he had been a child waited while Mr. Stewart said—