“If the General could get shet of them armed men, would you go?” asked Springer. “Yes, certainly.” “Then, I’ll try if he will go to my house,” and he slipped cautiously out of the dwelling, for the whites thought the officers were in the Armory, and he did not wish to undeceive them. He was successful on his mission, and soon returned; but the officers had seen the shouting throng surround and follow their General, and as the streets were rife with warlike menaces, _all_ now utterly refused to go to a house so near Dunn’s store and the main crowd. “See! see!” they exclaimed. “They are coming down the street to meet us! Gen. Baker can’t protect us!” All of which Springer could not dispute, so he sadly returned to Gen. Baker, who, on his approaching, called out: “I suppose you couldn’t get those fellows to meet me?” “No, General, they are too afraid of these armed bodies of men you have around you. That is the only reason.” “Armed men? armed men? I don’t see any armed men!” and that military dignitary rolled his eyes about as if in pantomime. “Well Sam, there’s no use parleying any longer. Now, by —— I want those guns, and I’ll be —— if I don’t have them!” A movement of expectancy swayed the throng as these words were heard and passed from lip to lip, and then a shout rent the air. Mr. Springer wended his way back through the crowd of men on horseback, and men on foot, whose fingers fidgeted upon the triggers of their firearms, and he sought the house of Justice Rives with a heavier heart than he had ever borne before; while General Baker entered his carriage again, as the hour for court drew near. CHAPTER VII. PORTENTIOUS DARKNESS. “Ye gods, it doth amaze me! A man of such feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world.” —CASCA. A SMALL, dark man, with a lithe form and sparkling eyes, had been busy preparing Justice Rives’s office for the expected court, as he had been previously directed, and was unaware of the excitement prevailing in other parts of the village. His task completed, he seated himself in an armchair, adjusted his feet high upon the post of the open door, and with his coat off and fan in hand, sat leisurely reading. About half past three o’clock he was startled by an imperative voice, asking, “Where is Rives?” On looking up from his newspaper, he saw Robert Baker and his legal counsel seated in the latter’s carriage, which stood before the door. “Mr. Rives is at his house, I reckon; but he’ll be here directly,” was the reply. “Go and tell him to come here to me,” commanded the General. “I’m not Mr. Rives’s office-boy. I am a constable, and am here attending to my business. He told me he would be here by four o’clock, and he won’t come any quicker by my going after him.” General B.—“Do you know who you are talking to?” Constable Newton.—“I’m talking to General Baker, I believe.” Gen. B.—“Well, you scamp! bring me some paper here.”