# The Clansman (1905)/Book 4/Chapter 4

BEN CAMERON rode rapidly to the rendezvous of the pickets who were to meet the coming squadrons.
He returned home and ate a hearty meal. As he emerged from the dining-room, Phil seized him by the arm and led him under the big oak on the lawn:
"Cameron, old boy, I'm in a lot of trouble. I've had a quarrel with my father, and your sister has broken me all up by returning my ring. I want a little excitement to ease my nerves. From Elsie's incoherent talk I judge you are in danger. If there's going to be a fight, let me in."
Ben took his hand:
"You're the kind of a man I'd like to have for a brother, and I'll help you in love—but as for war—it's not your fight. We don't need help."
At ten o'clock Ben met the local Den at their rendezvous under the cliff, to prepare for the events of the night.
The forty members present were drawn up before him in double rank of twenty each.
"Brethren," he said to them, solemnly, "I have called you to-night to take a step from which there can be no retreat. We are going to make a daring experiment of the ​utmost importance. If there is a faint heart among you, now is the time to retire——"
"We are with you!" cried the men.
"There are laws of our race, old before this Republic was born in the souls of white freemen. The fiat of fools has repealed on paper these laws. Your fathers who created this Nation were first Conspirators, then Revolutionists, now Patriots and Saints. I need to-night ten volunteers to lead the coming clansmen over this county and disarm every negro in it. The men from North Carolina cannot be recognised. Each of you must run this risk. Your absence from home to-night will be doubly dangerous for what will be done here at this negro armory under my command. I ask of these ten men to ride their horses until dawn, even unto death, to ride for their God, their native land, and the womanhood of the South!
"To each man who accepts this dangerous mission, I offer for your bed the earth, for your canopy the sky, for your bread stones; and when the flash of bayonets shall fling into your face from the Square the challenge of martial law, the protection I promise you—is exile, imprisonment, and death! Let the ten men who accept these terms step forward four paces."
With a single impulse the whole double line of forty white-and-scarlet figures moved quickly forward four steps!
The leader shook hands with each man, his voice throbbing with emotion as he said:
"Stand together like this, men, and armies will march and countermarch over the South in vain! We will save the life of our people."
​The ten guides selected by the Grand Dragon rode forward, and each led a division of one hundred men through the ten townships of the county and successfully disarmed every negro before day without the loss of a life.
The remaining squadron of two hundred and fifty men from Hambright, accompanied by the Grand Titan in command of the Province of Western Hill Counties, were led by Ben Cameron into Piedmont as the waning moon rose between twelve and one o'clock.
They marched past Stoneman's place on the way to the negro armory, which stood on the opposite side of the street a block below.
The wild music of the beat of a thousand hoofs on the cobblestones of the street waked every sleeper. The old Commoner hobbled to his window and watched them pass, his big hands fumbling nervously, and his soul stirred to its depths.
The ghostlike shadowy columns moved slowly with the deliberate consciousness of power. The scarlet circles on their breasts could be easily seen when one turned toward the house, as could the big red letters K.K.K. on each horse's flank.
In the centre of the line waved from a gold-tipped spear the battleflag of the Klan. As they passed the bright lights burning at his gate, old Stoneman could see this standard plainly. The huge black dragon with flaming eyes and tongue seemed a living thing crawling over a scarlet-tipped yellow cloud.
At the window above stood a little figure watching that banner of the Dragon pass with aching heart.
​Phil stood at another, smiling with admiration for their daring:
"By George, it stirs the blood to see it! You can't crush men of that breed!"
The watchers were not long in doubt as to what the raiders meant.
They deployed quickly around the armory. A whistle rang its shrill cry, and a volley of two hundred and fifty carbines and revolvers smashed every glass in the building. The sentinel had already given the alarm, and the drum was calling the startled negroes to their arms. They returned the volley twice, and for ten minutes were answered with the steady crack of two hundred and fifty guns. A white flag appeared at the door, and the firing ceased. The negroes laid down their arms and surrendered. All save three were allowed to go to their homes for the night and carry their wounded with them.
The three confederates in the crime of their captain were bound and led away. In a few minutes the crash of a volley told their end.
The little white figure rapped at Phil's door and placed a trembling hand on his arm:
"Phil," she said softly, "please go to the hotel and stay until you know all that has happened—until you know the full list of those killed and wounded. I'll wait. You understand?"
As he stooped and kissed her, he felt a hot tear roll down her cheek.
"Yes, little Sis, I understand," he answered.