There came a knock at the door. Van Ness, arising quickly, answered it. A uniformed page stood on the threshold bearing a silver platter on which reposed two letters. Something about the incident again aroused Howard's sense of humor. "Like a play," he muttered. "'My Lord, the carriage waits.'"
With an exclamation of annoyance the Governor stepped forward, took the two envelopes, displacing them with a bit of silver, and dismissed the boy. He opened both missives before examining either. Then he stood for a moment, a rectangle of paper in either hand, frowning.
Van Ness, peering over the Governor's shoulder, read:
We have given up hope for Mr. King's recovery. His death is a matter of days, perhaps hours.
DR. HAMMOND.
We beg to inform your Excellency that the Vigilance Committee's guard at the county jail has been withdrawn.
33, SECRETARY.
CHAPTER XLV
THE COMMITTEE STRIKES
On Sunday morning, May 18th, all of San Francisco was astir at dawn. There was none of the usual late breakfasting, the leisurely perusal of a morning paper.
In some mysterious fashion word had gone abroad that history would be made this morning. The odd and feverish expectancy which rides, an unseen herald in the van of large events, was everywhere.