“We is hyar fur our rights,” came from the extreme edge of the crowd in a growling voice.
“Your rights!”
“Yessah!” and James Hanks spoke up more bravely, emboldened by the support he felt the crowd was able to give him.
“Aw go on, Jeemes! He ain’t even armed,” cried the black brute who had been so free in his suggestions about breaking open the barrel of kerosene. “Gawd wouldn’t send nobody ’thout even a razor.”
Helen saw the crowd pushing forward. She felt a choking in her throat and loosened the cord that fastened her evening wrap. The heavy cape and hood fell to the ground. She was over the railing in a twinkling of an eye, dragging her ancient weapons of offense and defense with her. The hood had loosened her hairpins and now her hair fell around her shoulders in a heavy shower. She ran along the gallery, dragging the sword with one hand and with the other clutching the shield and scimiter. Without a word she thrust the great sword in the outstretched hand of the young man.
He looked at her in astonishment and terror. Having locked her in the hall he had thought of course she would remain there. At least, he had so devoutly hoped so that he had made himself believe that was where he would find her when this wretched affair was over.
His face blanched and his knees trembled visibly. The fear that he had not felt for himself was intense for this girl, but he grasped the sword and waved it over the crowd.
At sight of Helen the crowd set up a groan. They sank on their knees or fell prone to the earth. God had sent an angel of vengeance with a flaming sword for their undoing. Indeed less superstitious persons than those poor darkies might have been startled by the sudden appearance of Helen Carter. Her dress, that Nan had described as like the moon, might well have been the garb of an angel. Her long light brown hair, usually so carefully coiffed but now falling below her waist, added to the make-up, as did also the ancient shield and the crescent scimiter.
With the shield held forward, as though to guard the doctor, and the scimiter raised aloft, she stood gazing on the trembling crowd.
“Gawd save this nigger! Gawd save this nigger!” cried the abject one with the bandy legs.