The carriage, slowly working its way through the thick crowd, was almost lifted from its wheels. In their enthusiastic excitement those who surrounded it looked as if they would have raised it on their shoulders and carried it, horses included, up the staging of the steamer.
They did this much for Maynard. Strong-bearded men threw their arms around him, kissing him as if he had been a beautiful girl, while beautiful girls clasped him by the hand, or with their kerchiefs waved him an affectionate farewell.
A colossus, lifting him from his feet, transported him to the deck of the steamer, amidst the cheers of the assembled multitude.
And amidst its cheers, still continued, the steamer swung out from the wharf.
“It is worth while to be true to the people,” said Maynard, his breast glowing with proud triumph, as he heard his name rise above the parting hurrah.
He repeated the words as the boat passed the Battery, and he saw the German Artillery Corps—those brave scientific soldiers who had done so much for their adopted land—drawn up on the esplanade of Castle Garden.
And once again, as he listened to their farewell salvo, drowning the distant cheers sent after him across the widening water.