Casey was safely in custody. Cora also had been taken on a second trip
to the jail. They had been escorted into the headquarters, the doors of
which had closed behind them and behind the armed men who guarded them.
The streets were filled with an orderly crowd. They waited with that
same absence of excitement, impatience, or tumult so characteristic of
all the popular gatherings of that earnest time, save when the
upholders of the law were gathered. After a long interval one of the
committeemen, Dows by name, appeared at an upper window. He did not
have to appeal for attention, and had barely to raise his voice.
"It is not the intention of the committee to be hasty," he announced.
"Nothing more will be done to-day."
Silence greeted this statement. At last some one spoke up:
"Where are Casey and Cora?" he asked.
"The committee holds possession of the jail; all are safe," replied
Dows.
With this assurance the crowd was completely satisfied, as it proved by
dispersing quietly and at once.
Of the three thousand enrolled men, three hundred were retained under
arms at headquarters; a hundred surrounded and watched the jail; the
rest were dismissed. About midnight a dense fog descended on the city.
The streets were deserted. But on the roofs of the jail and the
adjacent buildings indistinct figures stalked to and fro in the misty
moonlight.
All next day, which was Monday, headquarters remained inscrutable.
Small activities went forward. Guards and patrols were changed. The
cannon was brought from before the jail. Early in the day a huge crowd
gathered, packing the adjacent streets, watching patiently far into the
night to see what would happen. Nothing happened.
But about the city at large patrols of armed men moved on mysterious
business. Gun shops were picketed, and their owners forbidden to sell
weapons. Evidently the committee was carrying out a considered plan.
Toward evening the weather thickened and a rain came on. It turned
colder. Still the crowd did not disperse. It stood in its sodden shoes,
hugging its sodden cloaks to its shoulders, humped over, waiting. About
eight o'clock several companies in rigid marching formation appeared. A
stir of interest, shivered through the crowd, but died as it became
evident that this was only a general relief for those on duty during
the day. At midnight, or thereabouts, the crowd went home; but again by
first daylight the streets for blocks were jammed full. Still it rained
with a sullen, persistence. Still nothing happened.
And all over the city business was practically at a stand. Knots of men
stood conferring on every corner. Conversation in mixed company was
very wary indeed. No man dared express himself too openly. The courts
were empty. Some actually closed, on one excuse or another, but most
went through a form of business. Some judges took the occasion to go to
White Sulphur Springs on vacations, long contemplated, they said. These
things occasioned lively comment. It was generally known that the
Sacramento steamer of the evening before had carried several hundred
passengers, all with pressing business at the capitol, or somewhere
else. As our chronicler tells it: "A good many who had things on their
minds left for the country." Still it rained; still the crowd waited;
still the headquarters of the Committee of Vigilance remained closed
and inscrutable.