“No,” she said slowly, “these are my people and with them is where I belong. This is where your law has sent me and while I am in its power I want no place of safety. Marshal, take me in!” The marshal was doubtful, asked Delavan what he meant and what he purposed to do, and while he hesitated the mob came rushing up the street and his only course was to hurry inside with her and bar the door. The mass of men surged against the jail entrance and with pieces of timber and bars of iron soon forced their way in. Then they trooped through the building, sweeping along all the prisoners who were awaiting trial under the Fugitive Slave law. They urged Rhoda to walk out into freedom and defiance of her sentence. But she smilingly shook her head and told them: “No, thank you. It’s better to serve out my sentence, and then I’ll be free to defy the law again in my own way.” Exultantly the throng poured out into the street again with the prisoners, and faced two companies of militia, ready to fire. Even the hottest heads among them paused at this and after some parleying they agreed to disperse and allow the men to be taken back to confinement. Among those awaiting trial for aiding in Mary Ellen’s rescue and escape were the pastor of the leading Presbyterian church in the town, the superintendent of a Methodist Sunday School, a professor from Oberlin College who had happened to be in the place on that day, a merchant, two lawyers and a physician, together with some clerks, laboring men, a farmer and several free negroes. The day following the conclusion of Rhoda’s trial was Sunday, and the Presbyterian minister preached from the jail yard to a large concourse of people who stood for two hours in a biting wind, for it was now well on in the winter, listening with the closest attention. The sermon, which was mainly an anti-slavery address, added fuel to the already flaming excitement. Meetings were held and bands of men began to organize and arm themselves. Militia guarded the jail night and day. The pro-slavery sympathizers, though in the minority in this region, yet made up a considerable share of the populace, and, angered and uneasy, they also began to prepare for whatever might happen. To hints that the Fugitive Slave law prisoners might yet be delivered from jail they retaliated with threats that those of their own party who were under durance for infraction of state laws should no longer suffer imprisonment. So acute did the situation become that Governor Chase hurried to Washington to consult with President Buchanan, assuring him that while he intended to support the federal government, as long as its authority was exercised legitimately, nevertheless he felt it his duty to protect the state officials and the state courts and that this should be done, though it took every man in the state to do it.