The boat touched the shore, and I leaped upon the landing, before the plank could be thrown out. And now a caution was necessary. To be recognized meant a night in jail, perhaps another mob, and it was my plan to go by lonely ways to the Senator's house and to surrender myself to him. In my haste I was almost breathless. I passed the lonely lamp-post and the thicket; I stood at the gate. I opened it without noise, and, with my heart bounding, I stole up the steps, raised the door-knocker and let it fall; and with the noise, the breaking of the metrical throb of the silence, I sprung aside, almost choking. Someone came slowly down the hall and fumbled at the lock. Would the door ever be opened? It was, and Washington stood before me. "Ah!" he cried, seizing me in his arms. "Come right in yere, Sah, Lawd bless yo' life. Let me hep you. Laws er massy, de man kai hardly walk. Yes, Sah, right yere in de libery." He lifted me in his mighty arms, carried me into the library and eased me down upon a chair. "Now, Sah--Sir--let us try to be cool; let us be strong with the love of the Lord in our hearts." He snatched up a hat and stood over me, fanning my face. "Yes, let us thank our heavenly father." "Where are they--she?" I asked. "You must be cool, Mr. Belford. Your excitement might--might be bad for you all. The Senator is out somewhere and so is Miss Florence. But you shall see them soon. Just quiet yourself down." "I must see them--him at once, to surrender myself." "Surrender yourself? What for, Mr. Belford?" "Washington, don't force me to say it. You know. I have come back to give myself up, to stand my trial." He ceased his fanning, stepped back and looked at me. "Mr. Belford, haven't you seen the papers?" "I have seen nothing. I have come to give myself up." The hat fell from his hand. "Mr. Belford, you must prepare yourself to hear something. Let me be slow so that it may not excite you." "Out with it. I can stand anything."