The disappearance of the women seemed to heighten the confusion: there were stones thrown, sounds of breaking glass, a crash on the stairway, and down the narrow passage, with yells of triumph, came a crowd of men, half-dragging a prisoner, a rope around his waist, his arms pinioned. The man's face was white, his clothing disheveled and torn. His resistance was passive--no word of entreaty or explanation escaped his lips. A sudden jerk on the rope from the hundred hands that clutched it threw the man off his feet--he fell headlong, his face struck the stones of the pavement, and he was dragged for twenty yards. The crowd grabbed at him and lifted him to his feet--blood dripped from his face, his hat was gone, his coat, vest and shirt were in shreds. The man spoke no word. "That's him--Garrison, the damned abolitionist!" The words arose above the din and surge of the mob: "Kill him! Hang him!" Phillips saw the colonel of his militia regiment, and seizing him by the arm, said, "Order out the men to put down this riot!" "Fool!" said the Colonel, "don't you see our men are in this crowd!" "Then order them into columns, and we will protect this man." "I never give orders unless I know they will be obeyed. Besides, this man Garrison is a rioter himself--he opposes the government." "But, do we uphold mob-law--here, in Boston!" "Don't blame me--I haven't anything to do with this business. I tell you, if this man Garrison had minded his own affairs, this scene would never have occurred." "And those women?" "Oh, they are members of the Anti-Slavery Society. It was their holding the meeting that made the trouble. The children followed them, hooting them through the streets!" "Children?" "Yes; you know children repeat what they hear at home--they echo the thoughts of their elders. The children hooted them, then some one threw a stone through a window. A crowd gathered, and here you are!" The Colonel shook himself loose from the lawyer and followed the mob. The Mayor's counsel prevailed: "Give the prisoner to me--I will see that he is punished!" And so he was dragged to the City Hall and there locked up. The crowd lingered, then thinned out. The shouts grew less, and soon the police were able to rout the loiterers. The young lawyer went back to his law-office, but not to study. The law looked different to him now--the whole legal aspect of things had changed in an hour. It was a pivotal point. He had heard much of the majesty of the law, and here he had seen the entire machinery of justice brushed aside. Law! It is the thing we make with our hands and then fall down and worship. Men want to do things, so they do them, and afterward they legalize them, just as we believe things first and later hunt for reasons. Or we illegalize the thing we do not want others to do. Boston, standing for law and order, will not even allow a few women to meet and discuss an economic proposition!