“Then you will secure his liberty, won't you?” Helen asked, eagerly. “I promised mammy I'd talk to you and bring her a report of what you said.”
“I am going to do everything in my power,” Dwight said; “but I don't want to raise false hopes only to disappoint you and Linda all the more later.”
“Oh, Carson, tell me what you mean. You don't seem sure of the outcome.”
“You must try to look-at the thing bravely, Helen,” Dwight said, firmly. “There is more in it than an inexperienced girl like you could imagine. I think we can arrange for a trial to-morrow, but it seems often that it is while such trials are in progress that the people become most wrought up; and then, you know, to-day and to-night must pass, and—” He broke off, avoiding her earnest stare of inquiry.
“Go on, Carson, you can trust me, if I am only a girl.”
“To tell you the truth,” Dwight complied, “it is the next twenty-four hours that I dread most. That mob last night, it seems, was made up for the most part of men here in town, workers in the factories and iron-foundries—many of whom know me personally and have faith in my promises. If it were left with them I'd have little to fear, but it is the immediate neighbors of the dead man and woman, the members of the gang of White Caps who whipped Pete and feel themselves personally affronted by what they believe to be his crime—they are the men, Helen, from whom I fear trouble.”
Helen was pale and her hands trembled, though she strove bravely to be calm.
“You still fear that they may rise and come—and—take—him—out—of—jail? Oh!” She clasped her hands tightly and stood facing him, a look of terror growing in her beautiful eyes. “And can't something be done? Mr. Sanders spoke this morning of telegraphing the Governor to send troops to guard the jail.”
“Ah, that's it!” said Carson, grimly. “But who is to take that responsibility on himself. I can't, Helen. It might be the gravest, most horrible mistake a man ever made, one that would haunt him to his very grave. The Governor, not understanding the pulse of the people here, might take the word of some one on the spot. Garner and I know him pretty well. We've been of political service to him personally, and he would do all he could if we telegraphed him, but—we couldn't do it. By the stroke of our pen we might make orphans of the children of scores of honest white men, and widows of their wives, for the bayonets and shot of a regiment of soldiers would not deter such men from what they regard as sacred duty to their families and homes. If the Governor's troops did military duty, they would have to hew down human beings like wheat before a scythe. The very sight of their uniforms would be like a red rag to a mad bull. It would be a calamity such as has never taken place in the State. I can't have a hand in that, Helen, and not another thinking man in the South would. I love the men of the mountains too well. They are turning against me politically because we differ somewhat, but I simply can't see them shot like rabbits in a net. Pete is, after all, only one—they are many, and they are conscientiously acting according to their lights. The machinery of modern law moves too slowly for them. They have seen crime triumphant too often to trust to any verdict other than that reached from their own reasoning.”
“I see; I see!” Helen cried, her face blanched. “I don't blame you, Carson, but poor mammy; what can I say to her?”