That was the way it looked to Tom also; and as he could not say anything encouraging, he held his peace, and rode on with his eyes fastened upon the horn of his saddle.
Although we have said that Marcy Gray appeared to be as calm as a summer's morning, he was not so in reality. He had the most disquieting reflections for company during every one of his waking hours, and they troubled him so that he found it next to impossible to concentrate his mind on anything. On this particular morning he felt so very gloomy that he did not ride his filly to town, as was his usual custom, but sent old Morris and a mule instead. What was the use of going to the post-office through all that rain just to listen to the idle boasts of a few stay-at-home rebels who could not or would not tell him a single reliable item of news? He and his mother had been talking over the situation—it was what they always talked about when they were alone—and the conclusion to which they came was, that their affairs could not go on in this way much longer, and that a change for better or worse was sure to come before many days more had passed away.
"I suppose our situation might be worse, but I can't see how," said Marcy, rising from his seat on the sofa and looking out at one of the streaming windows.
"Would it not be worse if we had no roof to shelter us in weather like this?" inquired Mrs. Gray.
"It would be bad for us if our house was burned, of course," answered Marcy. "But as for a roof, we shall always have that. If they turn us out of here we'll go to the quarters; and if they burn us out of there, we'll go into the woods and throw up a shanty. As long as they leave me or a single darky on the place the weather will never trouble you, mother."
"But I am afraid they will not leave you with me," replied Mrs. Gray. "You know that General Wise has asked the Richmond authorities to re-enforce him at Roanoke Island, and they have told him to re-enforce himself. You know what that means?"
"Yes; it means a general drumming up of recruits among the lukewarm rebels hereabouts. But it doesn't scare me. When I see such fellows as Allison, Goodwin, Shelby, and Dillon, and a dozen others I could mention, shoulder a musket and go to the defence of the Island, then I shall begin to worry about myself, and not before. Mother, Captain Beardsley and his friends will not permit me to be forced into the army, and neither will they let harm come to you, if they have influence enough to prevent it."
"Marcy, I am afraid you are placing too much reliance upon Aleck Webster and his friends," said his mother. "They have not brought Beardsley home yet. Suppose he has the courage to defy them?"
"But he hasn't," said the boy earnestly. "He hasn't had time to answer that letter yet, but he will do it, and he will answer it in person. I know he would have the courage to brave an open enemy, especially if he was driven into a corner and couldn't run, but it worries him, as it does everyone else, to have people work against him in secret. He will come home before he will allow his property to be destroyed, and Aleck assured me that if anything happens to us, Beardsley will have to stand punishment for it. But I do wish he had not caught Jack and me at Crooked Inlet. He will tell all about it the minute he gets home—he would die if he had to keep it to himself—and I am afraid the folks about here will do something to us in spite of all Beardsley and his friends can do to prevent it. I wonder where those two horsemen are going in such haste. Why, mother, they are rebel officers, and they are turning toward the gate. Yes, sir; they are coming in. Now what do you suppose they want here?"
This was a startling piece of news, and a question that Mrs. Gray could not answer. Although there were two garrisons within a few miles of the plantation, one being located at Plymouth and the other at Roanoke Island, Marcy and his mother seldom saw any soldiers, unless they happened to be neighbors who had enlisted, and come home on a few days' furlough. These furloughed men never came near the house, but rode by without looking at it; while the two men who were now approaching were headed straight for it, and their actions seemed to indicate that they had business with some member of the family. Marcy glanced at his mother's pale but resolute face, and then he looked up at the Confederate banner—the one Captain Semmes hoisted at theSabine'speak when he put his prize crew aboard of her, and which Sailor Jack had captured and brought home with him. That flag had twice taken the littleFairy Bellein safety past the rebel fortifications down the river, and Marcy had great hopes of it now.
"It may not serve you this time as well as it did before," said his mother, who seemed to read the thoughts that were passing in his mind. "I was afraid you would miss it by passing those batteries in broad daylight, but I do not understand these things, and did not think it best to raise any objections to Jack's plans."
"Why, mother, we never could have run those works in the dark without being seen and fired at and perhaps sunk," replied Marcy. "The very impudence of the thing was what disarmed suspicion and saved us from being searched. We'll soon know the worst now, for here they are at the bottom of the steps. I shall ask them right in here."
So saying Marcy opened the door that gave entrance into the hall, and called for Julius to run around to the front door and take charge of a couple of horses he would find there, after which he stepped out upon the gallery just as the Confederates were getting ready to hail the house.
"Good-morning, gentlemen," said he. "Alight, and give your nags over to this boy."
The officers replied in courteous tones, and when they had ascended the steps to the gallery and turned down the wide collars of their gray overcoats, Marcy was somewhat relieved to find that they were both strangers, and that they did not look at him as though they had anything unpleasant to say to him.
"I am Captain Porter, at your service, and my friend here is Lieutenant Anderson; no relation, however, to the Yankee hero of Fort Sumter, who, so I am told, is about to be canonized by the Northern people," said the elder of the two; and then he waited a moment for his subordinate to laugh at his wit. "If you are Marcy Gray and the head man of the plantation, you are the man we are looking for. Who wouldn't be a soldier this fine weather? How is your arm coming on by this time?"
Marcy was beginning to feel a little at his ease in the presence of his unwelcome visitors, but this abrupt question aroused his fears on the instant. Did the captain know what was the matter with his arm? and if he did, which one of their gossiping neighbors told him about it? He was anxious to know, but afraid to ask.
"It is getting better every day, thank you," was his reply. "Will you not come and speak to my mother? Julius will put your horses under shelter."
"We are 'most too muddy to go into the presence of a lady," said the captain, looking down at his boots, "but as I don't want to blot my notebook by taking it out in the rain, I think we'll have to go in. We had a short but interesting chat with your captain a while ago."
"Beardsley?" Marcy almost gasped. "Has he got home?"
"Of course he has. You didn't think the Yankees had captured him, I hope. He gave us a good account of you, and since you can't run the blockade any more, I wish you would hurry up and get well so that you can join——"
Right here the captain stopped long enough to permit Marcy to introduce him and his lieutenant to Mrs. Gray. They sat down in the easy-chairs that were brought for them, made a few remarks about the weather, and then the captain resumed.
"Yes; we saw Beardsley this morning, and would have been glad to spend a longer time with him, but business prevented. He says you are a brave and skilful pilot, and I happen to know that they are the sort of men who are needed on our gunboats; but, of course, you can't go just now. Hallo!" exclaimed the captain, whose gaze had wandered to the rebel flag that hung upon the wall. "Where did you get that, if it is a fair question?"
"It is one my brother brought home with him," answered Marcy, speaking with a calmness that surprised himself. "He was second mate and pilot of the blockade runnerWest Windthat was fitted out and loaded in the port of Boston."
"Oh, yes; we heard all about him too," said the captain, and Marcy afterward confessed that the words frightened him out of a year's growth. "He went down to Newbern to ship on an ironclad he didn't find; so I suppose he went into the army, did he not?"
"Not that I know of," answered Marcy, looking first one officer and then the other squarely in the eye. "Almost the last thing I heard him say was, that he was going to ship on a war vessel."
"Then he will have to come back here to do it, for there is no ironclad building at Newbern, and I don't see why he did not ship with Commodore Lynch in the first place," said Captain Porter. "But doubtless he wanted to serve on deep water. Now to business. We want negroes to work on the fortifications on and about the Island, and Captain Beardsley sent us here to get some. He said he thought you might spare, say fifty or more."
Marcy was suspicious of everything Beardsley said and did, and wondered if this was a new move on the man's part to bring him and his mother into trouble with the Confederate authorities. If it was a trap Marcy did not fall into it.
"You can call on my mother for double that number," said he without an instant's hesitation. "We can't spare them, of course, for there's work enough to be done on the place; but all the same you will have to get them."
"All right," answered the captain, pulling out his notebook. "Send them down to Plymouth as soon as you can and in any way you please, and we will furnish them with transportation and take care of them after that. By the way, it's rather queer about that overseer of yours. Where do you imagine he is now?"
If Marcy had not been fully on the alert this question would have struck him dumb; but the captain, whose suspicions had not been in the least aroused, and who believed Marcy and his mother to be as good Confederates as he was himself, had unwittingly paved the way for it by talking so freely about Captain Beardsley.
"It was a very strange as well as a most alarming proceeding," admittedMrs. Gray, who thought it time for her to take part in the conversation."I have not yet fully recovered from the fright it gave me," she added,with a smile, "and we have not the faintest idea where Hanson is now."
"What was Hanson anyhow? Which side was he on?"
"I don't know," replied Marcy. "Sometimes he claimed to be one thing, and then he claimed to be another."
"Captain Beardsley thinks he was in favor of the South."
"That proves my words, for he assured me that he was a Union man, and wanted to know if I was going to discharge him on account of his principles. I told him I was not, and added that if Shelby and Dillon and their friends wanted him driven from the place they could come up and do the work themselves, for I would have no hand in it. I desire to live in peace with all my neighbors."
"Oh, you can't do that, and it's no use to try," exclaimed the captain, getting upon his feet and buttoning his heavy coat. "Beyond a doubt your overseer was a Confederate in principle; and if that is so, his abductors must have been Union men. If Confederates had carried him away they would not hesitate to say so. Those Unionists must be your near neighbors, and if I were in your place, I should not show my colors quite so plainly," added the captain, pointing to the banner on the wall. "I am surprised to learn that there are so many traitors in my State, and we shall turn our attention to them as soon as we have beaten back the Yankee invaders of our soil."
"Do you think there will be any more fighting, captain?" asked Mrs. Gray anxiously.
"Yes, madam, I do. I am not one of those who believe that the North is going to be easily whipped. They do not belong to our race, I am glad to say, but they are a hardy, enduring people, and although they don't know how to fight they think they do, and they are going to give us a struggle. We must hold fast to Roanoke Island, for the possession of that important point would give the enemy a chance to operate in the rear of Norfolk. We expect to have a brush with them soon, and when it comes, we intend to make another Bull Run affair of it. I wish we could remain longer, but our duties call us away. I trust you will have those negroes down to us to-morrow."
Mrs. Gray replied that they should be sent without loss of time, and Marcy went out to tell Julius to bring up the horses. When he came back and followed the officers to the front door, he inquired if they had heard what Beardsley's reason was for quitting a profitable business and coming home so unexpectedly.
"Oh, yes; Beardsley told us all about it. He said he was afraid of the Yankees, and he didn't act as though he was ashamed to confess it. Their cruisers are getting so thick along the coast that a sailing vessel stands no chance. I asked him if he was going to enlist and he thought not. He wants to do his fighting on the water."
"He wants to do his fighting with his mouth," was what Marcy said to himself. "He will neither enlist nor ship; but he will stay at home and try by all the mean arts that he is master of to keep mother and me in trouble." Then aloud he said: "I am glad he came home, for it lets me out of the service. I have no desire to face any more steam launches that carry howitzers."
"I suppose not," said the captain, giving Marcy's hand a hearty farewell shake. "The more I see of those people the less I like to face them in battle. I hope you will soon have the use of your arm again, and that I shall see you by my side fighting for the glorious cause of Southern independence. Good-by."
The two officers mounted and rode away, Marcy remained upon the gallery long enough to wave his hand to them as they passed through the gate, and then he went into the house and to the room in which he had left his mother.
"What did I tell you?" were the first words he uttered. "Didn't I say that Beardsley would not let harm come to us if he could help it? I tell you, mother, he is afraid of the men who carried Hanson away and ordered him to come home."
"Well, then, is he not aware that we are looking to those same men for protection?" inquired Mrs. Gray.
"If he doesn't know it he suspects it pretty strongly. Aleck Webster told me that Beardsley had been warned to cease persecuting Union people in this settlement. That includes you and me, for the minute Beardsley saw and recognized my schooner in Crooked Inlet, that very minute he knew where to place us. He knows where Jack is now as well as we know it ourselves."
"And will he not tell of it?"
"Of course, for it is to his interest to do so. If he has been home long enough to ride into Nashville, he has told Shelby and Dillon of it before this time. I wish I could see a copy of the letter that was sent to him by Aleck and his friends. I am sorry to lose all our best hands at the very time we need them most, but all the same I am glad those officers came here. They didn't saymoneyonce, and that proves that Beardsley could not have spoken of it in their hearing."
"O Marcy," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, rising from her chair and nervously pacing the room. "I little dreamed that that money would be the occasion of so much anxiety to all of us. I almost wish I had never seen it. I can't sleep of nights for thinking of it, and sometimes I imagine I hear someone moving about the cellar."
"I don't wish you had never heard of it," replied Marcy. "We can't tell how long it will be before a dollar or two of it may come handy to us. Say, mother," he added, stepping to her side and placing his arm about her waist, "do you think you would be any easier in your mind if you did not know just where that money was, so long as you knew it was safe?"
"I know I should," was the reply, given in cautious tones. "But, my son, you must not attempt to remove it to another hiding-place. There seem to be so many who are on the watch, that I am sure you would be detected at it. That would mean ruin for you and arrest and imprisonment for me."
Marcy Gray was surprised, frightened, and angered by the words—surprised to learn that his mother was tormented by the very fear that had been uppermost in the mind of the absent Jack; frightened when he reflected how very easy it would be for some of their secret enemies to bring evidence to prove that every dollar of the money that was concealed in the cellar-wall rightfully belonged to Northern men, and that Mrs. Gray was hoarding it for her own use in violation of the law in such cases made and provided; and angered when he thought of the many indignities that would be put upon his mother by the Confederate authorities, who had showed themselves to be brutally vindictive and merciless in dealing with those whose opinions differed from their own. He drew a long breath which was very like a sob, and led his mother back to her seat on the sofa.
"All right," said he, with an appearance of cheerfulness that he was far from feeling. "I thought it would be a load off your mind if you could say that there is no money about the house except the little you carry in your pocket."
Mrs. Gray noticed that the boy did not promise to let the money alone, but before she could call his attention to the fact Marcy faced about and went into the hall after his coat and cap.
"It is almost time for the hands to have their dinner," said he, "and when I get them together I will tell them the news. Of course they will be delighted with it."
"I am afraid they will put them under some old overseer who will abuse and drive them beyond their strength," observed Mrs. Gray.
"I think it likely that they will see the difference between working for you and working for somebody else," admitted Marcy. "But these are war times, and when we can't help ourselves we must do as we are told. Our darkies ought to be glad of an opportunity to labor for the government that is fighting to keep them slaves. I wonder how many Captain Beardsley will send!"
"You said a while ago that it would be to the captain's interest to tell of his meeting with you and Jack at Crooked Inlet," observed Mrs. Gray. "I didn't quite understand that."
"Well, you see Beardsley needs help to carry out his plans, and his game now is to do nothing that will cause Hanson's abductors to turn their attention to him and his buildings. He believes, and he has good reason to believe, that certain men around here have it in their power to damage him greatly; and if he can bring Shelby and Dillon and the rest of the gang to his way of thinking, they will be apt to let us alone. Now I will go out and make a detail of the men we need about the place, and tell the others that they must be ready to march at daylight in the morning. I am not going to send them off in this rain."
"The captain said nothing about picks and shovels," suggested Mrs. Gray."Perhaps it would be well——"
"Picks and shovels cost money," interrupted Marcy, "and we are not going to send any down there to be stolen. Let the Confederate government furnish its own tools. Now I am beaten again! Here are two more visitors, and this time they are Captain Beardsley and Colonel Shelby."
This very unwelcome announcement brought Mrs. Gray to her feet in a twinkling. "What do you think they can want here?" she almost gasped, with a good deal of emphasis on the pronoun.
"They are coming to make friends with you, so that you will not tell theUnion men to destroy their property," replied Marcy.
"But, my son, I never would do anything of the kind. And besides, I do not know the Union men, or where to find them."
"No difference so long as they think you do. Now sit down and be as independent as you please, and I will let them in. Julius, stand by the front door to take those horses."
These men were admitted as the others were, but with very different feelings on the part of those they came to visit. Captain Porter and his lieutenant had donned uniforms and were ready to risk their lives for the cause in which they honestly believed, but these two lacked the courage to do that. Beardsley was ready to do anything that would bring him a dollar, provided there was no danger in it, while Shelby would not have enlisted if he knew that he could thereby earn a right to the title that was now given him out of respect to his wealth. They were ready to urge or drive others into the army, but it hurt them to be obliged to send their negroes to work on the fortifications. Colonel Shelby entered the room and seated himself with an air of a gentleman, while Beardsley acted the boor, as he always did. He gave Marcy's well hand a tremendous grip and shake, and said, in the same voice he would have used if he had been hailing the masthead:
"Well, how do you find yourself by this time? Ain't you sorry now that you didn't take out a venture when I wanted you to, so that you might be shaking thousands in your pocket at this minute, when you've only got hunderds? My respects to you, Mrs. Gray; but when me and this boy of yourn get to talking we don't know when to stop. Hope you have been well since I saw you last, and that the carrying away of your overseer didn't scare you none."
Marcy was well enough acquainted with Captain Beardsley to know that he did not rattle on in this style for nothing. The man was excited and nervous, and tried to conceal his feelings under a cloak of hearty good nature and jollity that ill became him. Marcy sat down and looked at him in a way that made Captain Beardsley mutter to himself:
"I'd like the best in the world to wring that there brat's neck. He's got the upper hand of me and Shelby and all of us, and dog-gone the luck, he knows it. I'd give a dollar to know what he's got on his mind this very minute."
After a little talk on various subjects that were of no particular interest to anybody, Captain Beardsley introduced the subject of blockade running, and gave a glowing description of the manner in which he had hoodwinked the Yankee cruisers by dodging out of Ocracoke Inlet while they were busy fighting the forts at Hatteras. He seemed to look upon it as a very daring and skillful exploit, and yet it was nothing more than any alert shipmaster would have done under the same circumstances.
"After that we had fun alive," added the captain; and Marcy was surprised to see him put his hand into the pocket of his overcoat and bring out a good-sized canvas bag which was filled so full of something heavy that it would not hold any more. "All we had to do was to run down to Nassau, discharge our cargo, and load up and come back again; and all the while we was making money till I couldn't eat nor sleep on account of it, and the Yankees never showed up to bother us."
"You were fortunate," said Marcy, when Beardsley stopped and looked at him.
"That ain't no name for it. We had the best kind of luck. I kept a bright watch for that steam launch when we passed through Crooked Inlet, but she had got tired of waiting and went off somewheres. We seen one or two little blockade runners like ourselves, but no Yankees. Now there's your share of the profits, Marcy," said the captain, and he got up and placed the canvas bag upon the table. "We made two runs, and I promised you I would give you five hunderd dollars——"
"But, Captain," exclaimed Marcy, while Mrs. Gray looked troubled, "I have no right to take that money. I wasn't aboard theHattiewhen she made those two runs."
"That's the gospel truth; but didn't I say I would keep your place open for you while you was laid up in ordinary with your broken arm? I did for a fact, and I always stand to what I say."
"But I haven't done the first thing to earn that thousand dollars, and I hope you will believe that I am in dead earnest when I assure you that I'll not touch it," replied Marcy.
There was no doubt about his earnestness, and the captain looked disappointed. He settled back in his chair and nodded at Shelby, and that was a bad thing for him to do. It told Marcy as plainly as words what their object was in coming there to call upon him and his mother.
"Even if you were not on board theHattiewhen she made those successful trips, you belonged to her, and have a right to demand pay according to contract," said the colonel.
"And while I belonged to her I took pay according to contract," saidMarcy quickly. "I was paid by the run and not by the month."
"I have never heard that the pay of an enlisted man ceases the moment he is injured," added the colonel.
"Nor I either; but I am not an enlisted man, and what's more, I do not intend to be."
"Well, if you won't take the money, you will acknowledge that I tried to do the fair thing by you? 'said Beardsley.
"I am willing to say that you offered me some money and that I declined to take it," answered the boy, who knew very well that Beardsley was not trying to do the fair thing by him. "As it is nobody's business, I never expect to be questioned about it."
The captain took little share in the conversation that followed. He put the canvas bag into his pocket, folded his arms and went into the dumps, where he remained until the name of the missing overseer was mentioned, and then he brightened up to say:
"That there was a little the strangest thing I ever heard tell of.What's went with Hanson, do you reckon?"
"I haven't the least idea where he is," was Marcy's answer.
"I know you wasn't to home when he was took off—leastwise I have been told so," said Beardsley, "but I didn't know but mebbe you and your maw might suspicion somebody. Now what you going to do for an overseer? There's that renter of mine, Kelsey his name is. I know you don't collogue with no such, but mebbe you know who he is."
Marcy started, and looked first at his mother and then at Captain Beardsley. The latter sat with his bearded chin on his breast, regarding Marcy through his half-closed eyelids, and there was an expression on his face that had a volume of meaning in it. Taken by surprise at last, the usually sharp-witted boy had betrayed the secret he was most anxious to keep from the knowledge of everybody.
"I know mighty well that Kelsey is trifling and lazy when he ain't got nothing much to occupy his mind," said Beardsley, who was not slow to catch the meaning of the frightened glances which mother and son so quickly exchanged, "but when he was working on my place and bossing my hands, I found him——"
"Are you in earnest in proposing him for my mother's overseer?" cried Marcy, as soon as he could speak. "Our fields can grow up to briars first."
"But really, he wants work," began the colonel.
"Then let him go down to the Island and work in the trenches," repliedMarcy. "He can't come here."
"But Kelsey is the only support of his family," the colonel remarked. "He is loyal to our cause, and would enlist in a minute if he had enough ahead to support his wife and children during his absence; but he hasn't got it."
"They will fare just as well without him as they do with him. If they get hungry, my mother will no doubt feed them as she has done a hundred times before; but Kelsey can't come on this place to work. There isn't money enough in the State to induce us to agree to that."
"But what you uns going to do for an overseer?" said Beardsley again."You'll need one if you intend to run the place."
"Not until the hands return from the Island," replied Marcy, "and then I shall take hold myself."
Having done all they intended to do when they came there the visitors were ready to leave, and Colonel Shelby gave the signal by arising from his chair and pulling his collar up about his ears.
"I still think, Mrs. Gray, that Marcy ought to take this money," said he. "The captain does not offer it to him as a gift but as his due."
"We perfectly understand the object he had in mind," answered the lady; whereupon the colonel opened his eyes and looked at her very hard. "But if Marcy thinks he ought not to receive it I have nothing to say."
"I hope you will not regret it," said the colonel. "Some people seem to think that we are about entering upon a long conflict, and that money will be a necessary thing to have after a while."
"But if you get hard up, which I hope you won't, don't forget that this thousand dollars is all yourn, Marcy," exclaimed the captain.
Marcy assured him that he would bear it in mind. If Beardsley hoped to hear him declare that his mother had more money in the house than she was likely to need, he was disappointed.
"And don't forget either, that if at any time you stand in need of such assistance as the captain and I can give, you must not hesitate to say so," continued the colonel, as he bowed to Mrs. Gray and followed Marcy to the door. "Our little settlement, I am sorry to say, is full of the meanest of traitors, and it may comfort you to know that there are a few persons in it to whom you can speak freely."
"We know that, and it certainly is a very great comfort to us," replied Marcy, thinking of Aleck Webster. "It will take more than a thousand dollars to keep roofs over your heads if anything comes of this day's work," was what he added to himself when he had seen the men ride out of the yard. "I saw through your little game from the first, and yet I went and gave myself away. That was about the biggest piece of foolishness I was ever guilty of; but I suppose it was to be so. I was all in the dark before, but I know what I am going to do now."
In order that we may know whether or not Marcy's fears were well founded, let us ride with Beardsley and his companion long enough to overhear a few words of their conversation. The moment they rode out of the gate, and were concealed from the house by the thick shrubbery and trees that surrounded it, Beardsley threw back the collar of his coat, giving the cold rain and sleet a fair chance at him, and almost reeled in his saddle, so convulsed was he with the merriment that could no longer be restrained.
"I done it, by gum!" he exclaimed, shaking his head and flourishing his riding-whip in the air. "I done it, didn't I?"
"You did not purchase his good-will, if that is what you mean," answered his companion. "He wouldn't touch your gold. He knew why you offered it as well as I did, and I was satisfied from the start that you would not catch him that way. He will put those Union men on you if you so much as crook your finger."
"But I aint a-going to crook no fingers," said Beardsley, with a hoarse laugh. "Let him sick 'em on if he wants to, but he'd best watch out that I don't get there first. Say, colonel, that there money is in the house all right, just as we uns thought it was."
"How do you know?" exclaimed his companion. The colonel had not noticed the frightened glances that Marcy and his mother exchanged when Kelsey's name was mentioned, and he was surprised to hear Beardsley speak so positively.
"Say!" answered the captain. "You aint forgot how you sent Kelsey up to Mrs. Gray's, while I was at sea, to make some inquiries about the money she was thought to have stowed away, have you? Well, Marcy and his mother aint forgot it nuther; and when I spoke Kelsey's name, and said mebbe he would be a good one to take Hanson's place, Marcy jumped like I had stuck a pin in him."
"Well, what of it?"
"What of it? Marcy knowed in a minute that I wanted to have that man took on the plantation for to snoop around of nights and find out all about that money. But I aint a caring. I know the money is there, and that's all I wanted to find out. The ways I have talked and schemed and planned to make that there boy say that him and his maw had as much as they wanted to tide them through the war that's coming, is just amazing, now that I think of it; but not a word could I get out of him. He was too smart to be ketched; but all on a sudden he gives out the secret as easy as falling off a log. The money is there, I tell you."
"And you intend to get it, I suppose?" added the colonel. "Well, now, look here, Beardsley; don't say a word to me about it."
"All right, Colonel," said Beardsley, who could scarcely have been happier if he had had the whole of Mrs. Gray's thirty thousand dollars where he could put his hand upon it at any time he pleased. "I know what you mean by them words. Of course you are too big a man and too rich to go into business with me, but I know some who aint. I'll show them Grays that they aint so great as they think for."
"Have you so soon forgotten what that letter said?" inquired the colonel. "If anything happens to Marcy's mother or her property some of us will be sure to suffer for it, unless you are sharp enough to lay the blame upon some one else."
"Say!" replied Beardsley, in a whisper. "That's what I'm thinking of doing. Your time's your own, I reckon, aint it? and you don't mind a little mite of rain, do you? Then come with me and see how I am going to work it."
So saying the captain urged his horse into a lope, and Colonel Shelby followed his example. After a while they turned into one of the narrow lanes that ran through Beardsley's cultivated fields to the woods that lay behind them, galloped past Mrs. Brown's cheerless cabin, and at last drew rein before the door of one that was still more cheerless and dilapidated. It stood in one corner of a little patch of ground that had been planted to corn and potatoes, and which had received such slight care and attention of late years that the blackberry briars were beginning to take possession of it. A small pack of lean and hungry coon dogs greeted the visitors as they stopped in front of the cabin, and their yelping soon brought their master to the door. He was the same lazy Kelsey we once saw sitting on the front porch of Mrs. Gray's house, only his hair was longer, his whiskers more tangled and matted, and his clothes worse for wear.
"Alight and hitch," was the way in which he welcomed Captain Beardsley and his companion. "Git out, ye whelps!"
"Can't stop so long," replied the captain. "Been over to Mrs. Gray's to see how my pilot was getting on, and tried to scare up a job for you at overseering, in the place of that chap who was took off in the night time."
"I dunno's I am a-caring for a job of that sort," answered Kelsey. "I've got a sight of work of my own that had oughter be did."
"That's so," said Beardsley, glancing at the broken fences, the bare wood-yard and the briars that were encroaching upon the borders of the little field. "But there's no ready money in your work, while there is a sight of it up to the Grays."
"I won't work for no sich," declared Kelsey. "They think too much of their niggers."
"They set a heap more store by them nor they do by such poor folks as you be. But you needn't bother. They won't take you and give you a chance to keep your head above water, and put a bite of grub into the mouths of your family and a few duds on their backs. They allowed that they wouldn't have no such trifling hound as you on their place."
"Did Mrs. Gray use them words about me?" exclaimed Kelsey, growing excited on the instant.
"I heard somebody say them very words, but I aint naming no names; nor I aint been nowheres except up to Mrs. Gray's to-day. One of 'em allowed that if you wasn't too doggone useless to live, you'd go and 'list on the Island."
"I'm jest as good as they be," said the man, who by this time was looking as though he felt very ugly.
"That's so. And some of 'em likewise said that a man who was too lazy to keep a tight roof over his own head, when he could have nails and boards by asking for 'em, wouldn't do no good as an overseer," added Beardsley, counting the holes in the top of the cabin through which the rafters could be seen, and glancing at the stick chimney, which leaned away from the wall as if it were about to topple over. "But that aint what I come here for, to carry tales about my neighbors. I want to say I'm glad to see you doing so well, and that if you are needing a small side of meat and a little meal, you know where to get 'em."
"Sarvant, sah," replied Kelsey. "That there is more neighbor-like than demeaning a man for a trifling hound because he is pore, and I'll bear it in mind, I bet you. As for my roof, it's a heap better'n the one them Grays will have to cover them in a week from now; you hear me? That big house of theirn will burn like a bresh-heap."
"Well, take care of yourself," answered the captain. "But if I'd suspicioned you was going to fly mad about it, I wouldn't 'a' spoke a word to you."
"Kelsey will never carry out his threat," said Colonel Shelby, as the two rode away from the cabin. "He is too big a coward."
"I know that mighty well, but you can say that you heard him speak them very words, can't you?"
Captain Beardsley was very lively and talkative after that, and plumed himself on having done a neat stroke of work that would turn suspicion from himself, when the results of a certain other plan he had in his head should become known in the settlement. But perhaps we shall see that he forgot one very important thing. As to the colonel, although he approved the work that was to be done, he had the profoundest contempt for the man who could deliberately plan and carry it out. He had little to say, and was glad when his horse brought him to a bridle-path that would take him away from Beardsley and toward his own home.
Meanwhile Marcy Gray was in a most uncomfortable frame of mind. When he saw the visitors ride out of the gate, he closed the door and went back to his mother. "The captain never spoke of meeting you and Jack at Crooked Inlet," were the first words she uttered.
"Of course not," replied Marcy. "You did not expect him to, did you? But I rather looked for him to give some reason for coming home, and to hear him say that he would have no further occasion for my services; but he was so disappointed because I would not take that hush-money——"
"O Marcy!" exclaimed his mother. "I was afraid that that was what the money was intended for."
"That was just it, and how the colonel stared when you said you understood the object Beardsley had in view in offering it. Those men think we can destroy their buildings or protect them, just as we please."
"But, Marcy, we cannot do it."
"Let them keep on thinking so if they want to. And another reason Beardsley didn't say all he meant to was because I was foolish enough to give him something else to think about. I was frightened when he mentioned Kelsey's name, for I knew in an instant what he wanted the man on the place for, and I showed that I was frightened."
"So did I, Marcy," groaned Mrs. Gray. "So did I."
"Well, it can't be expected that a woman will be on the watch all the time, but I ought to have had better sense. I gave Beardsley good reason for thinking that there is something on or about the place that we don't want a stranger to know anything about, and of course he believes it is money. But don't you worry. We'll come out all right in the end."
So saying Marcy put on his coat and cap, kissed his mother, and left the house to tell one of the hands to put the saddle on his horse. At the door he met old Morris, who was just coming in with the mail. He saw at a glance that the darky was frightened.
"Marse Marcy, dere's going be great doings 'bout dis place," he began.
"Never mind. I can't stop to hear about it now, for I am in a hurry. Give those papers and letters to one of the girls, and let her carry them in. I wouldn't have you go into my mother's presence with that face of yours for anything. Say nothing to nobody, and I will see you again as I can go to the quarter and back."
From his earliest boyhood Marcy had always been glad to go among the field hands when he was troubled, for they were so full of fun, and had so many quaint and amusing things to say to him that gloomy thoughts could not long keep his company in their presence; but it was not so this time. He silenced all their laughter by the very first words he spoke to them. All the able-bodied men among them (and Marcy designated them by name) were to start for Plymouth before daylight the next morning, to work on the Confederate fortifications. Some of them rebelled at once, and declared that they wouldn't stir a step, but thought better of it when Marcy told them that, if they did not go willingly, they would be marched down by a squad of soldiers, who would not hesitate to help them along by a prod from a bayonet if they showed the least disposition to lag behind. It took him longer to get through with this disagreeable duty than he thought it would, for the blacks hung around him, and clung to his hands as though they never expected to see him again; but it was accomplished at last, and then Marcy turned about, and rode back to the house to interview the coachman. He found him wandering disconsolately about among the horses, too dispirited to work. The two went out in the rain together, taking care to keep out of sight of the sitting-room windows, and the faithful old darky astonished the white boy by describing, almost word for word, as we have told it, what had been said and done in Mrs. Brown's cabin that morning while Tom Allison and Mark Goodwin were there. He said not a word until Morris finished his story, and then he inquired:
"Where did you hear all this?"
"Marse Beardsley's niggah gal, Nancy, was dar, and heared and seen it all wid her own eyes and ears," replied Morris. "She met me on de road when I was coming home wid de mule and de mail, and done told me. Is dat a fac' 'bout de money, Marse Marcy?"
The boy did not in the least doubt the truthfulness of the story. He knew that the girl Nancy looked out for Mrs. Brown's comfort in a shiftless sort of way; that long association with the old gossip had made her a tolerable gossip herself; and that, although she was often sent to the overseer on account of it, she kept on talking just the same. Besides, Nancy could not have known about the money unless she had heard somebody speak of it. And Mark Goodwin was sure it was concealed in the cellar wall! That was the worst piece of news Marcy Gray had ever listened to. He stood for some minutes looking down at the ground in deep study, and then he seized the black man's arm and drew him closer to him. He gave him some rapid whispered instructions, old Morris now and then nodding, as if to show that he understood them perfectly, and then they shook hands, as two brothers might have done, and separated.
At daylight the next morning there was not a single able-bodied black man to be seen on Mrs. Gray's plantation, if we except the few who found employment about the house, the working party having left hours before. Marcy saw them from his window as they marched out of the gate with their bundles on their backs, but he did not go down to speak to them. He had taken leave of them once, and had no desire to go through the same ordeal again. He rode into Nashville that morning, as he did every other morning for the next two weeks, but the only news he heard related to the fortifications at Roanoke Island, which grew in size and strength every day, and were to be held at all hazards. He thought it strange that he did not see Aleck Webster, but, of course, he dared not ask after him. He saw Allison, and Goodwin, and others of that stamp, who went out of their way to profess friendship for him; but Marcy never lingered long in their company until one day when they followed him to the hitching-rack, after he had secured his mail, to warn him that he had better have an eye on that man Kelsey, who meant harm to him.
"What does he think he has against me?" was the first question Marcy asked. "Doesn't he want me to feed him any more?"
"He doesn't want grub so much as he wants work," replied Goodwin. "And you wouldn't hire him to take Hanson's place."
"Hadn't we a right to say who shall work for us and who shall not?" demanded Marcy. "But we don't need anybody. I am going to act as my mother's overseer; that is, if I ever have any hands to oversee."
"But Kelsey doesn't like to be called a lazy, trifling hound; and you wouldn't like it either," said Allison.
"I never called him that. I simply said that I would let the fields grow up to briars before I would have him on the place, and I say so yet. Let him enlist, if he wants something to do."
"But he can't enlist. The doctors wouldn't pass him."
"Has he tried them?"
"What would be the use? Can't you see for yourself how he is bent almost double with rheumatism?"
"I can see how he bends over because he is too lazy to straighten up, but I never heard that he had rheumatism. What is he going to do to me?"
"He has threatened to burn you out."
"I expect to be burned out, but not by that man Kelsey. Now mind what I say, you two. When that thing happens you will see some disappointed men and boys right here in this settlement, and our house will be in good company when it burns. Good-morning."
"Hold on!" exclaimed Mark. "Don't go off mad. What do you mean?"
"I mean what I say," answered Marcy, who wanted to say more, but thought it would not be prudent. "And there is no need that I should enter into explanations with you and Tom Allison."
Marcy rode away, wondering if he had done wrong in letting those young rebels see that he was so well posted. If he had made a mistake in speaking so plainly it was too late to mourn over it now. He wished he might have opportunity to exchange a few words with Aleck Webster, and sometimes, during the week that followed, he was strongly tempted to ride by his house in the hope of seeing him there; but prudence always interposed in time to keep him from doing anything so rash. Then he waited and hoped for a sign from some of the other members of the band; but, although he was sure that he met and spoke to them every day in the post-office, they said no word to him that could not have been uttered in the presence of a third party, nor did they give him a chance to speak to them in private. Marcy told himself that it was little short of maddening to live in this way to know that there were enemies all about him and not a single old-time friend of his family to whom he could go for advice or comfort. The state of suspense he was in day and night was hard to bear, and Marcy was almost ready to do some desperate deed to bring it to an end.
A few days more passed and once more Colonel Shelby and Captain Beardsley came to visit the family. This was nothing unusual, for they and others often came now to keep up an appearance of friendship, and to inquire if there was any way in which they could be of assistance to Mrs. Gray. They stayed an hour, and when they went away, and Marcy and his mother reviewed the conversation that had taken place during the visit, to see if they had been entrapped into saying anything they ought not to have said, the only news they remembered to have heard was that Shelby and Beardsley, and some others whose names they mentioned, were going down to the Island to inspect the works, and see how their hands were getting along under their military overseers. They would probably be gone three or four days, and if Marcy or his mother desired to send a word of remembrance to any faithful old servant, they should be pleased to take it.
"I am getting heartily tired of visits of this sort," said Marcy. "I wish they would keep away, and let us alone, for I don't care to talk to men I have to watch all the time. I am afraid there is something back of these friendly calls."
There was something back of this one at any rate—something that was very like a tragedy; and the first act was performed that night a little after dark. Marcy was just rising from a late supper, when the sound of hoofs was heard on the carriage-way, and Bose challenged with all his might. When Marcy opened the door he saw the horseman bending down from his saddle, and waving his hand at the dog as if he were trying to quiet him. He was so far away that Marcy could not see who he was, although the light from the hall lamp streamed brightly out into the darkness. When he heard the boy's step upon the porch the man straightened up, but did not offer to come any nearer.
"What is wanted?" demanded Marcy.
"Does this yere road lead to Nashville?" asked a hoarse, gruff voice that Marcy had never heard before.
"The one outside the gate leads to Nashville, but the one you are on leads up to this door," answered the boy, who, for some reason or other, began to feel uneasy.
"You aint overly civil to strangers in these parts, seems like," said the man. "I've been out lookin' for niggers to work on the forts, an' got lost, if it will do you any good to know it." And, with the words, he turned his horse about, and galloped out of the yard.
It was a very simple incident—one that was likely to happen at any time—but all that evening Marcy could not get it out of his mind. He could not read, either, and did not want to talk, so he went to bed at an early hour; but before he did so, he made the rounds of the house with a lighted lantern in his hand. Bose was in his usual place on the rug in front of the door, and so fast asleep that he did not move when his master stepped over him, and the doors and windows in the lower part of the house, as well as those in the cellar, were closed and fastened, and, having satisfied himself on these points, Marcy bade his mother good-night, and went to his room. But he did not close his door. He took pains to leave it wide open, and called himself foolish for doing it.
"I am getting to be afraid of the dark," was what he thought, as he turned down his lamp and tumbled into bed. "There isn't a darky on the plantation who hates to have night come as bad as I do, and I don't know that there is anything surprising in it. If there is danger hanging over this house, I wish it would drop, and have done with it."
Marcy went to sleep with this rash wish half formed in his mind.
Marcy Gray slept like a boy who had eaten heartily of mince pie for supper, that is, uneasily. But still he must have slumbered soundly or he would have heard the faint scream and the hoarse, muffled voice that came up from his mother's room shortly after midnight, or been awakened by the swift rush of the two figures who hastened up the stairs and through the wide-open door into his room. The figures were there, but the first Marcy knew of it was when one turned up the lamp and the other laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder. Then he opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but was pressed back upon his pillow at the same instant that the cold, sharp muzzle of a revolver was put against his head.
"Keep still now, you pore white trash, and you is all right," said the man who held the revolver. "Make a noise, and you is all wrong, kase you'll be dead quick's a cat can bat her eye. You heah me? Git up!"
[Illustration: THE MASKED ROBBERS.]
Any sense of fear that might have come upon Marcy Gray, if he had been given time to think twice, was lost in profound astonishment. The man talked like a negro; but in those days negroes were not given to doing desperate deeds of this sort. Hardly realizing what he was doing, Marcy threw off the bedclothes and sat up; and as he did so, the man who had turned up the lamp snatched the pillows from the bed and took possession of the brace of revolvers he found under them. Marcy looked at the pillows that were flung upon the floor, and saw that there were dark stains on both of them. He took short, searching glances at the two men, and saw the white showing through the black on their faces. By this time he was wide awake, and trying to nerve himself for the ordeal he saw before him.
"Git up an' climb into them dry-goods of yourn" commanded the robber, standing first upon one foot and then on the other, and swaying about after the manner of a field hand who had suddenly found himself in an embarrassing situation. "Git into 'em lively. I tol' you, chile. I is de oberseer now, an' you is de niggah. Hustle 'em on."
"How do you expect me to dress rapidly with only one hand to work with?" demanded Marcy, who was not frightened out of his senses, even if he was powerless. "You must give me a little time."
"Well den, what for you go in the wah an' fight the Yankees what want to give us pore niggahs our freedom?" said the robber. "You done got your arm broke, an' it serves you jes right. Wisht it had been your head."
Marcy dressed in much less time than he generally did, and when he had thrown his coat over his shoulders and slipped his well arm into one of the sleeves, he was ready to follow the robbers downstairs and into the cellar; for he thought that was where he would have to go sooner or later. He drew a long breath of relief when he was conducted into the sitting-room, where his mother was waiting for him guarded by two more robbers, whose hands and faces were covered with something that looked like shoe-blacking. Although she was pale she did not appear to be badly frightened, for she smiled pleasantly as the boy seated himself on the sofa by her side, and said:
"I hope they did not handle you very roughly, Marcy."
"Oh, no; they didn't put a hand on me."
"An' what's more, missus, we aint going to, if you do jes like we tell you," said the robber who had thus far done the talking. "You white folks is rich, an' we black ones is pore. You've got money, an' we aint got none."
"And you want us to give you some, I suppose," added Marcy, putting his hand into his pocket and drawing forth the small buckskin purse in which he carried his change. "There's my pile. How much have you, mother?"
"Look a-here!" exclaimed the man, forgetting himself in his rage and speaking in his ordinary tone of voice. "That won't go down. You've got more, an' we know it; an' if you don't trot it out without no more of this foolishness——"
"So far as I know, these purses contain every cent of money there is in the house or about it," interrupted Marcy, taking both the articles in question in his hand and extending them toward the robber. "The darkies may have some, but if they have I don't know it."
With a muttered curse the man hit Marcy's hand a heavy blow and sent the purses flying to the farthest corner of the room. He expended so much strength in the blow that he almost pulled the boy from his seat on the sofa, and drew an involuntary exclamation of surprise and indignation from his mother.
"Look a-here, ole woman! You'll say 'Oh, my dear boy!' a good many times afore we uns is done with you if you don't trot out that money," declared the robber, in savage tones. "We know jes what we're doing, an' you might as well give in without wasting no more time over it. Where is it? I ask you for the last time."
"It is in those purses," replied Marcy. "If you want it, go and pick them up. You knocked them there."
"We'll take some of that there sass out of you in two minutes by the watch," snarled the robber, glancing up at the heavy chandelier which, depended from the center of the high ceiling. "Where's that rope, Jim? Do you reckon that there thing will pull out or not?"
"What are you ruffians going to do?" gasped Mrs. Gray, when she saw the man Jim pull a rope from his pocket.
"We're going to see if we can choke some sense into this boy of yourn," was the answer. "If you don't want to see him hung up afore your face an' eyes, make him tell where that money is. We uns have got to have it afore you see the last of us."
Mrs. Gray turned an appealing look upon Marcy, who said stoutly:
"I told nothing but the truth when I said that there is no money in the house except the little in those purses. Why don't you men look around and satisfy yourselves of the fact?"
"We aint got time, an' more'n that, we've knocked off work for the night. Throw one end of the rope over that thing up there, an' make a running noose in the other. I said I wouldn't ask him agin, an' I meant every word of it."
Things began to look serious, and the resolute expression on Marcy's pale face showed that he understood the situation. His mother knew he told the truth that he had secretly removed her treasure to another hiding-place, and she longed to throw herself upon his neck and beg him to tell what he had done with it. But she did not do it, for that would only have made matters worse. It would have encouraged the robbers and disheartened the boy, who was so calmly watching the preparations that were being made to pull him up by the neck. He knew that the men were working on a supposition; that they had no positive proof that there was money in the house; and hoped that they would soon weary of their useless demands, or that something would frighten them away. But he was obliged to confess to himself that neither contingency seemed likely to happen. The robbers acted as though they were in earnest, and there was nothing to interfere with their work. None of the servants had showed themselves, and even Julius and Bose, who never failed to be on hand when there was anything unusual going on, had not once been seen or heard. The house was as silent as if it had been deserted. After a few unsuccessful attempts the man Jim managed to throw the rope over one of the branches of the chandelier at the same time that a second robber finished the work of putting a running noose on the other end.
"Now I reckon we're about ready for business," said the leader grimly. "Mebbe you'd best bear down on it first, Jim, to see if the thing will hold you up."
Jim's prompt obedience came near costing him his life. Seizing the rope with both hands he jerked his knees up toward his chin and swung himself clear of the floor; whereupon the hook which held the chandelier, and which was not intended to support so heavy a weight, was torn from its socket and the ponderous fixture came down upon the head of the robber, crushing him, bleeding and senseless, to the floor. But the room was not left in darkness, as Marcy wished it had been; for the single lamp that lighted it was on a side table, safely out of the way. Every one in the room was struck motionless and speechless with amazement and alarm, and if Marcy Gray had only had two good hands to use, the disaster to the robber band would have been greater than it was. Their leader was so nearly paralyzed with astonishment that a quick, dexterous fellow, such as Marcy usually was, could have prostrated and disarmed him with very little trouble; but under the circumstances it would have been foolhardy to attempt it.
As was to have been expected, Mrs. Gray was the first to recover herself and the first to act. In less than two seconds after the robber struck the floor she was by his side, trying with both hands to remove the chandelier from his prostrate form. The sight brought Marcy to his senses.
"Are you lubbers going to stand there and let the man die before your eyes?" he shouted. "Why don't you bear a hand and get him out?"
These words proved to be almost as magical as the "whistle shrill" with which Roderick Dhu was wont to summon his Highland clan. Before they had fairly left Marcy's lips the boy Julius danced into the room through the door that led into the hall, shouting at the top of his voice:
"Here dey is! Here dey is! Shoot——" Then he stopped stock still, and rolled the whites of his eyes toward the wreck in the middle of the floor—the shattered lamps, the broken chandelier with the robber's legs sticking out from under it—and finished by saying, "Dere's a muss for de gals to clean up in de mawnin. Why don't you shoot 'em?"
Almost at the same instant the doorway behind the prancing darky was filled by armed and masked men, who filed rapidly into the apartment, turning right and left along the wall to give their companions in the rear room to follow them. Not a word was said or a thing done until a dozen or more had entered, and then the robbers were disarmed, without the least show of resistance on their part, and the heavy chandelier was lifted off their injured and still senseless comrade. It was all done in less than two minutes, and the rescuers were about to pass out, as quickly and silently as they came, taking the robbers with them, when Mrs. Gray said:
"Will you not tell us who you are, so that we may know whom to thank for the inestimable service you have rendered us?"
"We are friends," replied a voice that was plainly disguised.
"We know it; and if that is all you care to have us know, of course we shall have to be satisfied with it," said Marcy, who had received a slight nod from one of the masked men, whom he took to be Aleck Webster. "But it's mighty poor consolation not to be able to call our friends by name. I wish you would do me another friendly act by going through that wounded robber's pockets and getting my revolvers back for me. They jumped on to me and took them away before I was fairly awake."
This request was quickly and silently complied with, and then the masked men started out again, taking the four would-be robbers with them. Mrs. Gray wanted much to ask what they intended to do with the prisoners, but a look and a few words from Marcy checked her.
"Let us show our gratitude by respecting their wishes and asking no questions," said he earnestly. "They have saved me from a choking, and if they ever want anything I can give them, I know they will not hesitate to let me know it. Good-night, friends, if you will not tell us what else to call you."
A dozen voices, which sounded strange and hollow under the thick white masks that covered the faces of the rescuers, responded "good-night," and Marcy, filled with gratitude for his deliverance, stood on the porch at the side door and saw them disappear down the lane that led through the almost deserted negro quarter. Then he walked around to the front door to see what had become of Bose, and discovered him curled up in his usual place on the mat.
"You rascal!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean by lying here fast asleep, while——"
Marcy's impulse was to kick the dog off the mat in the first place and off the porch in the second; but remembering how faithfully the devoted animal had served him in the past and that this was his first offence, he bent over and grasped him by the neck, only to let go his hold the very next instant. Bose was stiff and cold—as dead as a door nail.
"Poisoned!" ejaculated Marcy. "And to think that I was on the point of kicking the poor beast! I deserve to be kicked myself for doubting him. The chap who rode into the yard to-night to inquire the way to Nashville is the villain who is to blame for this. He is the fellow who captained the robbers to-night, and no doubt he was feeding Bose something, when I thought he was trying to quiet him. Poor old Bose!"
The boy's heart was heavy as he faced about and went into the house, where he found his mother pacing the floor, more frightened and agitated now than she had been at any time while in the presence of the robbers. She laid her head on Marcy's shoulder, and cried softly as he put his arm around her and led her to a seat.
"What's the good of taking on so now that the trouble is all over?" said he. "But that's always the way with a woman. She will stand up to the rack when there is need of it, and cry when there is nothing to cry for. What's the use of doing that?"
"Marcy," said his mother, "did I not tell you to let that money alone?"
"No, ma'am; you said you were afraid that if I tried to take it to a new place some one would catch me at it; but I wasn't afraid. I was sure I could do it without being seen, I knew you would sleep better if it was put somewhere else, and so, while you and every one on the plantation, except the man who was helping me, were in the land of Nod, I took the bags out of the cellar wall and put them where nobody will ever think of looking for them. Whenever you want any of it say the word, and I will see that you get it; and in the meantime, if you are asked where it is, you can truthfully say that you don't know."
"But, Marcy, the events of the night, which seem more like a terrible dream than a reality, prove conclusively that the story has got abroad; and I don't see how I can muster up the courage to pass another night in this house," said Mrs. Gray with a shudder. "How could they have got in without alarming Bose?"
"Poor old Bose will never act as our sentry again," replied the boy, with tears of genuine sorrow in his eyes; and then he went on to tell how he had found the companion and friend of his childhood dead at his post, and his mother said that she would willingly surrender the money, that had been nothing but a source of trouble to her ever since she drew it from the bank, if by so doing she could bring Bose back to life again.
"What bothers me quite as much as his death is the thought that I wanted to hurt him because he did not awaken me," said Marcy. "And one thing I should like to have explained is how those masked men happened to be on the watch on this particular night, and get here as they did just in the nick of time. I tell you, mother, I was glad to see the chandelier knock that villain endways, and if I could have snatched the weapon the robber captain had in his hand, I would have made a scattering among them."
"I don't suppose you have any idea who the robbers were?"
"I am sure I never saw one of them before. I didn't pay much attention to their voices, for I knew they would not betray themselves by talking in their natural tones, but I took notice of the way they acted and carried themselves, and was obliged to put them down as strangers. They do not belong about here."
"Marcy, you frighten me!" cried Mrs. Gray. "You surely do not wish me to think that some of our neighbors brought them here to rob us?"
"That is what I think myself, and there is no use in denying it. Didn't Shelby and Beardsley take particular pains to tell us that they would be away from home to-night? Hallo, there!" exclaimed Marcy, who just then caught sight of the boy Julius standing in a remote corner, pulling his under lip and gazing ruefully at the ruins of the chandelier. "What do you mean by keeping so quiet when you know that I want to have some serious talk with you? Come here, sir."
Julius had learned by experience that when he was addressed in this style he was to be taken to task for something, probably for lying or stealing. He could not remember that he had been guilty of telling lies very lately, but as for picking up things he had no business to touch that was a different matter. When Julius was certain that he knew what the offence was for which he was to be reprimanded, he always tried to make it lighter by offering some sort of a confession; and he did so in this instance.
"I know I aint going steal it, Marse Marcy," he began, putting his hand into his pocket. "I jes want look at it and den I going give it back."
"So you've got it, have you?" said Marcy, who had not the slightest idea what the black boy meant. "I knew I'd find it out sooner or later. Give it to me, sir!"
The boy took his hand out of his pocket and placed in Marcy's extended palm a bright, new fifty-dollar gold piece. Mother and son looked at each other in silent amazement, both being startled by the same suspicion. Cautious as he thought he had been, Marcy had not succeeded in removing the money from the cellar to a new hiding-place without being seen. Julius knew all about it.
"What for dey make all dem sharp corners on dar?" asked the boy, pointing to the gold piece. "What for dey don't make 'em roun' like all de res'?"
"Where are the rest?" demanded Marcy. "Hand them out."