“Nothing will satisfy me but the surrender of the men and their guns.” “We have no authority to surrender them, as you very well know. The men are not criminals convicted, and you have no warrant or authority of law; and the men say their oaths to the State forbid their surrendering the arms to you. If you can show any authority for receiving them, that you have more than any other private citizen, they will give them up at once; but they say they cannot otherwise, because, if they should voluntarily yield them up to you or any other private citizen, especially surrounded by such an armed body as this, without authority of law—well, General, you’re a lawyer, and you know what the law calls it. The law and their oath of office will not allow them.” “Rives,” replied this great chieftain, “you are the Major General of the State Militia in this district, and can demand them.” “Not without cause, or order from my superior!” “By ——!” said the negro-catcher, Baker, who stood near, “you had better do something, for there’s going to be —— to pay here, if those officers and guns are not delivered up.” “I want to see the Colonel of this regiment. I want these officers and these guns,” said Gen. Baker with great vehemence. Ned O’Bran, who had joined the four peace-makers, now slipped through the crowd and back to the armory. “How does it look, Ned?” asked Lieut. Watta from a window above his head. “It looks squally. Now, Watta, you men just bar the windows and doors, and let nothing nor nobody in the world in there; and by this means they will have nothing nor nobody in the world to fight, if they want to fight, but themselves. There’s bound to be a fuss; for I heard Gen. Baker say myself, that what he intended to do this evening won’t stop till after the seventh of next November, and that is election day, you know. So shut yourselves up, and keep still.” Watta closed the window, and Ned returned to the place of conference. A horse pushed against Springer’s companion, and he mildly laid his hand upon the animal’s shoulder and said, addressing it, “Take care, sir!” Quick as thought the rider’s whip cut a smart gash upon the dusky cheek. The chivalrous Gen. Baker, looking on, took out his own pocket handkerchief, and wiped the perspiration from his own face, while the unoffending mulatto wiped the blood from his; and Springer’s unflinching eye arrested the hand of another of the General’s aids, as he was about to send a bullet through his (Springer’s) brain. Neither the attack nor menace elicited rebuke nor notice from the “high-toned” General, who disdainfully turned and rode away. “If we will box the guns up,” said Rives, following him, “and return them to the Governor, will _that_ be satisfactory?” “—— the Governor! I am not here as the Governor of South Carolina, nor his agent, but as General Baker!”