“Oh, ya! Mon come here, mon sag, ‘Meester dare sure.’ Now co dis vay,” and he led the way to a loft; “Here co om roof van dey get you. Hark! Vat dat noise down stair ish?”
The next instant Mrs. Marmor rushed into the chamber and threw her arms about her husband’s neck in a paroxysm of weeping.
He folded her to his breast, and commanding a calm and cheerful tone, said, “Jane, Jane, don’t give way so. Why, I’m not afraid; I shall come off all right, and nobody will hurt you or the children. Our people are chivalrous, and won’t hurt a woman.”
“Oh, you don’t know! you don’t know!” she sobbed. “Capt. Baker just now told me, as I was coming to bid you good-bye,” (here her sobs interrupted her speech) “he told me,” she resumed, “if I wanted to save my children from getting killed, to go into the house and lock the doors. And so I must go and save my poor babies. Duck got scared and ran off and left me all alone,” and she placed her cold trembling hands on either side of her husband’s face, and kissed him. Then pressing them upon her heart, she descended the stairs, moaning aloud.
“Great heavens! Am I a man?” exclaimed Marmor, “to let my wife go like that, and I hiding to save my own life!” and he sprang to the stairs to follow her.
Quick as thought, the Jew placed himself before him, and held him back.
“She be not cry for self; just for you. You co da, she cry more. Man not touch her, noh leetle kinder. Yo’ co hide now, quick!”
Five minutes later, the same Col. Baker, her husband’s enemy, rapped loudly upon Mrs. Marmor’s door, with the loaded handle of his riding-whip.
Almost too much frightened to stand, she opened the door, and peeped out.
“You must take your children, and leave this house if you do not want to be killed,” said the gallant Colonel.