“Yes, me and Eck Morgan was on top o’ de drill-room, along wid Sam Henry and tree or fo’ more of ’em. We went out de back way when de cannon come, an’ we jumped Marmor’s fence, an’ went up onto his shed, an’ got into a back window.” “Was Marmor there?” “No, nobody wasn’t ’dar; only jes de white men come ’dar an’ broke open de house, an’ de out-houses, an’ dry goods boxes; an’ we could see ’em looking to see if dar war any niggahs’ dar. Den’ dey come into de house, an’ broke eb’ry ting up, an’ carried off eb’ry ting; and den dey just broke open de do’ whar’ we war; an’ Ben Grassy, an’ George Wellman, ’dey jumped out o’ de window we got in at, an’ I don’t know war’ dey got to; but de men dey just kotched us, and fotched us heah.” CHAPTER XI. A MASSACRE. “Slaying is the word, It is a deed in fashion.” JULIUS CÆSAR. THE “dead-ring,” as has been said, was on Market street, and quite near the Post Master’s residence, which occupied the corner and stood flush with both Market and Cook streets. Captain Doc stood in the upper verandah, almost over the heads of the crowd surrounding “the ring,” and looked down upon them. “It is about time we began the killing,” said one of the crowd, “We’ve been hunting and capturing long enough. Now who shall be killed?” “Kill ’em all, of cose,” replied one of his fellows. “We’d better find out what Gen. Baker says,” said a third. “We’ll go round to Dunn’s store, and see what he says. Whatever he says, I say it’ll be right.” “If yo’ say _dat_, yo’ won’t kill any of us,” said Corporal Free; “fo’ Gen. Baker is too high toned a gem’man to allow a man dat has surrendered, to be killed. He’s a gem’man from one of de first families of de State.” “You shut up your mouth,” said one of the chivalry, as he threw a handful of dirt into Free’s face. “Now, I tell you what,” said another speaker, fingering a huge pistol; “all get on this side of these —— niggers, and we’ll just fire into ’em.” At that moment a cheer arose, and hats of all descriptions were swung wildly in the air. “Hurrah! Here comes our chief!” shouted the mob, and made room for horse and rider to approach the ring, though the single solid circle of armed men remained unbroken. The poor fellows upon the ground raised their heads, and cried out each for his life, “Oh, Gen. Baker!” “Oh, Gen. Baker!” “You will save me!” “You will save my life,” “Gen. Baker, I surrendered right off, I did,” “I han’t done nothing,” “I’m just a honest, hard-working man.” “Don’t let ’em kill me, Gen. Baker!” “Yo’ will set _me_ free, General Bakah, I’m sho fo’ yo’s a gemman!” and beseeching hands were uplifted, and dark faces upturned in earnest pleading for the protection they felt sure “a high-toned gentleman,” and “chivalrous chieftain” would give. “Is William Daws here in this ring?” asked the General. “Yes sah,” was the prompt and confident reply.