Smith and Mr. Loring, and many other gentlemen, whose names it would
give me pleasure to mention, were exceedingly kind.
The guard then conducted me through the mob to the prison; and I felt
joyful that even a prison could protect me. Looking out from the prison
window, I saw my trunk in the hands of Messrs. Johnson, Scott, and others,
who were taking it to the City Hall for examination. I understood
afterwards that they opened my trunk; and as the lid flew up, Lo! a paper!
a paper!! Those about seized it, three or four at once, as hungry dogs
would a piece of meat after forty days famine. But the meat quickly turned
to a stone; for the paper it happened, was one _printed in Raleigh_, and
edited by WESTON R. GALES, a nice man to be sure, but no abolitionist. The
only other printed or written things in the trunk were some business cards
of a firm in Raleigh--not incendiary.
Afterwards I saw from the window Mr. Scott, accompanied by Mr. Johnson,
lugging my carpet-bag in the same direction my trunk had gone.
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