"I suppose one object of the organization is to keep the spirit of patriotism alive among our people," observed Mr. Allison.
"That's the idea; and to make the traitors among us shut their mouths and quit carrying their heads so high," cried Mark. "They have had companies of this kind in Kentucky and Tennessee for a long time; and in Missouri the State Guards, as they are called, have done the most of the fighting. Ben Hawkins says that if we had had strong companies of well-disciplined Home Guards around here, Roanoke Island would not have been captured."
"Who cares what Ben Hawkins says?" exclaimed Tom. "He's a traitor; and when he declared that he wouldn't fight for the South any more, I told him to his face that he was a coward."
"Oh, my son," said the doting mother, "I am afraid your high spirit will bring you into trouble some time."
Mark Goodwin knew that his friend's "high spirit" had nothing to do with the scathing rebukes he had received in the post-office. His unruly tongue and his want of common sense were to blame for it.
"Is Mr. Goodwin a member of the Home Guards?" inquired Mr. Allison."Then I think I will ride over and have a talk with him. From his houseI will go to town and see if I can learn more of that glorious victoryin Hampton Roads."
The gentleman went into the house accompanied by his wife, and Tom andMark descended the steps out of ear-shot of the rest of the family."Where shall we go?" was the first question they asked each other.
"I wish we could go to half a dozen different places at once," said Tom, at length. "If we go to Beardsley's we may be sorry we didn't go to town; and if we call on Colonel Shelby, to see if he can tell us anything about that light, we may be sorry we didn't go somewhere else. What do you say?"
"I say, let's ride over to Beardsley's in the first place, and to MarcyGray's in the next."
"And so follow up that squad of thieving Yankees and see what damage they did? If they overhauled Gray's house I can pretend to sympathize with them, you know, for that was the way they served us."
"Overhaul nothing!" exclaimed Tom in disgust. "Mark my words: I don't believe they went near the Grays; but if they did, they treated them with more civility than they showed my father. Come along, and see if I haven't told you the truth."
Tom's horse was ready and waiting, and a rapid ride of twenty minutes brought him and Mark to a field in which Beardsley was working with some of his negroes. When he saw them approaching he shied a chip he held in his hand at the head of the nearest darky, who caught sight of it in time to dodge, and came up to the fence to wait for them. His actions proved that he was full of good news, for he placed his hands on his knees, bent himself half double, looked down at the ground, and shook his head as if he were laughing heartily. When he reached the fence he pounded the top rail with his fist, and shouted as soon as the boys came within speaking distance:
"Have them varmints been up to your house?"
"Do you mean the Yanks?" answered Mark, as he and Tom reined their horses across the ditch to the place where the man was standing. "I should say so; and you ought to have seen the way they conducted themselves, just because my father stood on his dignity as any other Southern gentleman would."
"Well, he was a fule for standing on his dignity or anything else," said the captain bluntly. "You didn't ketch your Uncle Lon trying to ride no such high horse as that there, I bet you, kase fifty agin one is too many. I was right here in this field when they come along," continued Beardsley, resting his right foot upon one of the lower rails and both his elbows on the top one, for he never could stand alone if there were anything he could conveniently lean upon, "and when they asked me did I have any we'pons of any sort up to the house, I told 'em I had for a fact, and if they didn't mind, I'd go up and bring 'em out. So I clim the fence and went along."
Here the captain went off into another paroxysm of laughter, shaking his head and pounding the top rail with his clenched hand.
"Well, what did you give them when you reached the house?" asked Mark impatiently.
"Nothing in the wide world but an old shotgun that belonged to one of the boys that used to come out from Nashville squirrel shooting once in a while, and that I wouldn't fire off if you'd give me a five-dollar gold piece," chuckled Beardsley. "The rest of my shooting-irons is hid where they won't find 'em. You see I suspicioned that they would do something of this kind as soon's they got a foothold here, and so I toted my guns out in the garden and shoved 'em under some bresh there is there."
"You had better hunt up a better hiding-place for them the first thing you do," said Tom earnestly. "There's where I put mine when Mark warned me, but I am not going to leave them there. The Yankee who came to our house was as much of a gentleman as one of his kind could be, but the next one who comes along may be a different sort. Did they go to Marcy Gray's?"
"Bet your life," said the captain, with another chuckle. "Do you reckon I'd let them miss that place? I sent them there, and they was gone long enough to give the house a good overhauling; but what I can't quite see through——"
"We sent them there too," exclaimed Tom. "Did you see them when they returned? What did they have?"
"I'll bet they made Marcy hand over that fine hunting rig in which he takes so much pride," added Mark. "I'd give a dollar if I could have looked into his face about the time he gave up that boss shot-gun of his, that I have heard him brag about until it made me sick."
"Why didn't they take Marcy himself as well as the guns?" continued Tom. "He couldn't deny that he has given aid and comfort to the Confederates by running the blockade and capturing vessels for them."
"And if he did deny it, how did he explain the presence of thatConfederate flag in his house?" demanded Mark.
"Hold on till I tell you how it was," said Beardsley, as soon as the boys gave him a chance to speak. "Them Yankees went up to Grays', like I told you, and I was here when they come back; but they didn't have the first thing."
"Whoop! Then they didn't search the house," yelled Mark. "Marcy and Jack have more shot-guns and sporting rifles than any two other boys in the country."
"Leastwise they didn't find nothing that was contraband of war," said the captain. "Them is the very words they spoke to me."
Tom and Mark looked at each other in speechless amazement.
If you would like to know why Captain Burrows (that was the name of the officer who commanded the Union troopers) did not find in Mrs. Gray's house any articles that were contraband of war, we will ride with him and his company long enough to find out.
During the days of which we write scouting was a necessary duty, but it sometimes happened that it was one of the most disagreeable, particularly when it fell to the lot of a gentleman like Captain Burrows, and his orders compelled him to enter private houses whose only inmates were supposed to be women and children; but now and then these scouts found able-bodied men in uniform concealed in dwellings that were thought to be occupied wholly by non-combatants. During the Yazoo Pass expedition the gunboat to which we belonged was ordered to search all the houses along the banks of the Coldwater and Tallahatchie rivers, although we knew that that important duty had already been performed by the soldiers. In one house, whose female occupants vociferously affirmed that all the men who belonged there were in Vicksburg and had not been near home for six months, a belt containing a sword and revolver was found under a bed. That was as good evidence as we wanted that the man who owned the belt was not far away, and after a short search he was discovered in the cellar. No doubt there were better hiding-places about the house, but the blue-jackets came up so suddenly that he did not have time to go to them. A little further search resulted in the finding of some important dispatches which the Confederate had concealed in a barrel of corned beef; but when its contents were poked over by a bayonet, the dispatches betrayed themselves by rising to the surface. So you see it was sometimes necessary to search private houses; but like Mr. Watkins, the gunboat officer who took Marcy Gray from his bed to serve as pilot in the Union navy, Captain Barrows wished that some other officer had been detailed to do the work. Although he went from Beardsley's house straight to Mrs. Gray's, he had no intention of searching it. He knew more of Marcy than Tom and Mark thought, and perhaps he could have told them a few things concerning themselves that would have made them open: their eyes. He had halted and questioned every negro he met on his scout, and he knew the name of every Union man and every rebel in the settlement. When he arrived at the house he did not lead his men into the yard, nor did he ride in himself. He dismounted and went in on foot, and Marcy, who had seen him coming, opened the door without giving him time to knock.
"I know you are Marcy Gray, from the descriptions I have heard of you," was the way in which the captain began his business. "I am told that you have any number of dangerous weapons as well as a Confederate flag in your possession."
"I plead guilty," replied Marcy. "Will you walk in?"
He was not at all afraid of the officer, for the latter smiled at him in a way that put him quite at his ease. Besides, if the captain knew anything about him, as his words seemed to indicate, he must be aware that he had willingly served under the Union flag, and under the other one because he could not help himself. Marcy led him into the room in which his mother was waiting, and the captain straightway quieted her fears, if she had any, by saying:
"I am on a scout, madam, looking for rebel soldiers and fire-arms that may be concealed in the settlement; but, so far as you are concerned, my visit is merely a matter of form."
"Take this chair," said Marcy, "and I will be back in a moment."
The Confederate flag had been removed from its place on the wall, but the boy knew where to find it; and when he brought it into the room he brought with it his fine rifle and shotgun, his revolvers, a bed-quilt and the letter that Captain Benton had given him; and Julius, who followed at his heels, brought as many more guns, which belonged to the absent Jack. He was gone but a few minutes, but quite long enough to enable Mrs. Gray to give the visitor some scraps of his history; and as her story was confirmed by those he had heard from the negroes along his line of march, he was so well satisfied of Marcy's loyalty that when the latter came in and deposited his burdens on the table, the officer had not the least intention of taking any of them away with him. He spread the Confederate flag upon the floor so that he could see it; examined the guns one after another, and inquired about the shooting on the plantation; and held Captain Benton's letter up to the light, to see if he could read what was written upon it.
"There's a fire on the hearth, sir," Marcy reminded him.
"I know there is; but if I should bring out the words by holding this paper to the heat, and it should some day fall into the hands of the rebels, it might make serious trouble for you," said the captain. "If such a thing happens I don't want to be the means of it, for I know that you were of service to our fleet during the fight at Roanoke Island."
"I was there, sir," answered the boy modestly. "And if you say so, I will rip up this quilt and show you the Union flag that waved over my head while I was acting as Captain Benton's pilot."
"A Union flag in this house, alongside of a Confederate!" exclaimed the captain, who was surprised to hear it. "I should think you would be afraid to have it about you. I understand that the most of the people in this neighborhood are the worst of rebels."
Marcy replied that although there were some Union people in the settlement the Confederates outnumbered them two to one, but he did not believe that any of the latter knew there was a Union banner in the house. Then he went on to explain how and when it came into his possession, and again offered to produce it; but Captain Burrows said he would not put him to so much trouble. He asked a few leading questions which he knew Marcy could not answer unless he had really "been there," after which he took his cap from the table, saying as he did so:
"If you will take a friend's advice, you will conceal those guns, as well as any other articles of value you may have, somewhere outside, and keep Captain Benton's letter where you can put your hand on it at any hour of the day or night. It is probable that some of our scouts will be along here every few days, and I am afraid there will be some among them who will insist on going through your house. Besides, the Home Guards may need those guns to arm some of their men."
"Home Guards?" echoed Marcy. "What are they?"
"Well, they are men who, although they haven't the courage to enlist in the army to fight us, are perfectly willing to act as police in the rear of the Confederate army. It is their intention to patrol the settlement, night and day, until they drive out every man who is suspected of Union sentiments."
Marcy looked bewildered, and his mother was frightened.
"Is it possible that you haven't heard of it?" continued the captain. "Then it proves the truth of the old saying that one needs to go away from home to learn the news. We know all about it, and we also know that these Home Guards intend to operate as they do in Kentucky, Tennessee, and Missouri; that is, they will be industrious and peaceful farmers during the daytime, and thieves and murderers at night. But mind you, as fast as we can locate them, we shall run them in and hold them as prisoners of war. I hope that you, and the rest of the Union people about here, will be watchful and keep us posted."
"This is news to me," said Marcy, as soon as his surprise would allow him to speak. "I never dreamed of such a thing."
"Then I am very glad I mentioned it," said the officer.
"And I am certain I can give you the name of every man in the company," added Marcy. "What do you suppose put the idea into their heads?"
"I am sure I do not know, unless it was that fight in Hampton Roads, which created the wildest excitement all over the country. The Richmond people were very jubilant, while our Washington folks were correspondingly depressed."
"That is another piece of news," said Mrs. Gray. "To what particular battle do you refer, Captain?"
"Don't you know anything about that, either?" exclaimed the officer, throwing open his coat, and thrusting his hand into an inside pocket. "It was a fight between our fleet and six Confederate steamers—five wooden vessels and one iron-clad. It lasted the better part of two days. At the end of the first day the advantage was all with the Confederates, who captured and burned one of our best ships and sunk another, without any serious damage to themselves. These papers, which I shall be glad to leave with you, tell all about it, and they will also give you a faint idea of the consternation that seized upon everybody up North, when the story got abroad that the rebels had one single vessel that could cope with Uncle Sam's entire navy. Every city along the coast, as well as the capital, was supposed to be at the mercy of that one iron-clad; but when she came out, on the morning of the 9th, to complete her work of destruction, she ran against a snag, in the shape of a little Union iron-clad, not more than half her size, which had come upon the scene during the night."
"And did those two iron-clads fight?" exclaimed Marcy, who was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement. "Which whipped?"
"Of course they fought, for that was what our vessel, theMonitor, went down there for. She came in the night and anchored behind the hull of one of our big ships, so that the rebel boat did not see her until she was close upon her. They had the hardest kind of a fight, and our vessel whipped."
Marcy did not break out into cheers as the captain no doubt thought he would, but settled contentedly back in his chair and drew a long breath of relief.
"Our fellows did not sink theVirginiaas they tried to do," continued Captain Burrows, "but they gave her such a pounding that it was all she could do to draw out of the fight and go back to Norfolk. We had the best of the engagement, for the rebel boat failed to accomplish the object she had in view when she came out, which was to sink the three frigates that were aground off Fortress Monroe."
"And you think it was during the excitement consequent upon the first day's victory that our neighbors were led to organize the Home Guards?" said Mrs. Gray.
"I certainly think it had much to do with it," answered Captain Burrows. "You see these 'stay-at-homers,' as I have heard them called, jumped to the conclusion that the Yankees were whipped, and when the war is over they want to be able to say that they helped do it."
"Pardon my curiosity," said Marcy. "But have you seen Ben Hawkins?"
"I don't think there will be any harm in telling you that I had a short talk with him before I came here. I met him on the road, and he volunteered so much information concerning his neighbors that I became suspicious of him. But I have since learned that he told me nothing but the truth. He is a paroled prisoner and, I may add, a warm friend to you and your mother."
"And you do not think it would be unwise to trust him?" said Mrs. Gray, who had listened with surprise to her son's account of the speech he had heard Hawkins deliver in the post-office.
"No, I do not. He is very bitter against the Confederacy, as many of his comrades are; he has had enough of soldiering, and if I were in your place I think I should look upon him as a friend."
"I thank you for saying so much," replied Marcy. "I am sure we need friends bad enough."
"And don't forget," said the captain as he rose to go, "that we are not here for fun. I shall report you to my commander as a staunch Union family, and if your rebel neighbors prove troublesome and you will let us know, we will surely punish them for it. I wish you good-day."
"Now there's a friend worth having," said Marcy, when he and his mother were once more alone. "He brought us bad news, though. He did not want to say too much against his comrades, but he said enough, and I think we had better hide your silver and jewelry before some rascal in blue walks off with them."
"No doubt it would be a wise thing to do," replied Mrs. Gray. "He said he heard that there were arms and a flag in the house; have you any idea who told him?"
"Beardsley is the chap," answered Marcy readily. "Two or three times I was on the point of asking what the captain said to him, but I was afraid he might not answer me. Beardsley can't get me into trouble with the Yankees, and he might as well give up trying. Now let's read about the fight in Hampton Roads."
"What about the Home Guards?" said his mother.
"I will take a ride presently and see if I can learn something about them. They must have been very sly in getting up their company, for I don't believe our darkies knew the first thing about it. If they did they would have told us. I wonder if it wouldn't be a good plan for me to join it."
"Why, Marcy, they would not accept you!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray.
"That's what I think; but if they refuse it will show me that I had better be on my guard, won't it?"
"I am glad to know that Hawkins is our friend."
"When I met him in Nashville, and he took the trouble to cross the road and shake hands with me and say that I did just right while I was on Captain Benton's gunboat, I knew right where he stood," answered Marcy. "I can see him as often as I have anything to say to him, for he is loafing about the settlement all the time."
While Marcy talked he was looking through one of the papers Captain Burrows had left behind for the account of that famous fight in Hampton Roads, and when he found it he read it aloud. The result of the first day's struggle must have been alarming as well as discouraging to the loyal people in the North, and the gloomy predictions that were made in the papers concerning the terrible things the Virginia was going to do when she finished the Union fleet at Fortress Monroe, were enough to make Marcy feel gloomy himself. But the account of the next fight was most inspiriting. The littleMonitorproved to be more than a match for her ponderous antagonist. Washington would not be bombarded, the blockading fleet, which theVirginiawas to sink or capture at her leisure, was still on top of the water and likely to stay there, and the recognition of the Southern Confederacy by France and England was as far off as ever.
"There's one thing I like about Northern papers," said Marcy, when he had read every line he could find that in any way related to the matter that was just then uppermost in his mind. "They always tell the truth. If their people are whipped they don't hesitate to say so, but ours gloss it over and try to make it appear that every fight is a Confederate victory. According to our Newbern papers the South hasn't lost a single place that she couldn't spare as well as not. Donelson and Fort Henry were outposts that we did not intend to hold anyway, and Roanoke Island was of so little consequence that the Richmond authorities did not garrison it as heavily as they would if they had wanted to keep it. It's the worst kind of bosh, and everybody in the South knows it. Now then," he added, addressing himself to Julius, who, since he followed his master into the room, had stood in one corner hearing and seeing all that was said and done, "put these guns and things where they belong, and stand by to-night after dark to help me hide them in the garden. You heard what that Federal officer said about the Home Guards, didn't you? Well, what do you know of them?"
"Not de fustest think, Marse Mahcy," answered the boy earnestly. "Dey gettin' to be mighty jubus of de niggahs round hyar, an' nobody nebber say nuffin whar Julius kin ketch it."
"Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you do catch on to anything come straight to me with it; do you understand? Now I am going to ride out for a while."
"Do you intend to say anything about our visitors?" inquired his mother.
"If I meet anyone who knows they were here I don't see how I can avoid speaking of them," was Marcy's reply. "But circumstances will have to determine what I shall say about them. I don't mean to let every Tom, Dick, and Harry know how very friendly that captain was with us. I don't think it would be just the thing. Good-by."
"Look a hyar, Marse Mahcy," began Julius; and then he hesitated for as much as a minute before he went on to say, "You know dat niggah Mose?"
"Yes, I know Mose," answered Marcy, and he might have added that he knew him to be the laziest and most worthless black man on the plantation. "What of him?"
"Well, sar, moster," replied the boy, "when I fotch in dem guns an' luf 'em on de table I slip out de do' kase I aint wantin' to see no horns an' hoofs like Marse Jack say de Yankees done got, an' I see Mose talkin' wid dem soldiers in de road. Den he slip thoo 'em into de bresh on de odder side de road an' never come out no mo'; an' den I come hyar to tol' you."
"Do you mean to say that Mose has run away?" cried Marcy and his mother in concert.
"Yes, sar, missus; dat's what I mean," replied Julius.
Marcy was much surprised to hear it, but after all it was nothing more nor less than he had predicted when the war first broke out. The negroes knew to a man that the contest between the North and South would decide whether they were to be bondsmen or free, and it was natural that their sympathies should be on the side of those who did not believe in slavery, and that they should desire to be with them.
"You are quite sure that the Yankee soldiers did not take Mose away, are you?" said Marcy, after a little pause.
Yes, Julius was positive about that. When the Federal captain left the house Julius had hastened to the front porch in order to satisfy himself on that very point, and had taken pains to see that Mose was not with the soldiers when they rode away. Mose had gone on his own hook.
"I am afraid he will repent when it is too late," said Mrs. Gray, with a sigh of regret. "Mose is too old, and too badly crippled with rheumatism, to be of any use to his new friends."
"I suppose you and Morris will be going next," said Marcy, nodding at Julius, "and that, if I want my filly brought to the door, I can bring her myself."
"Oh, hursh, honey," replied the boy. "I aint a-keerin what dat old niggah Morris gwine do, but Julius aint gwine run away."
"I think you are better off here than you would be anywhere else. The Yankees believe that those who don't work can't eat, and that would let you out so far as grub is concerned. You never did a hand's turn in your life. Now go and tell Morris to saddle my horse, and then come back, and put away these guns as I told you."
When Julius left the room Marcy put on his hat, and went out to ask if any of the other house servants knew that old Mose had run away, and was not much surprised to find that they all knew of it and had been expecting it, for Mose had given them due-notice of what he intended to do. He had often been heard to say that if the Yankee soldiers ever came to the plantation he would go away with them, and he had kept his word. Some planters in the neighborhood would have said, "Good riddance to bad rubbish," for of late years Mose had not done work enough to pay for the corn meal and bacon he ate, let alone the clothes he wore; but Marcy felt sorry for him, and predicted that Mose would repent of his bargain in less than a month.
"Marse Mahcy, will the Yankees luf him come back if he wants to?" inquired Morris.
"I reckon not," was the boy's answer. "The Federal general, Butler, has declared slaves to be contraband of war, and I don't think they will give Mose up any more than they would surrender a mule they had captured. Now, what do you black ones know about the Home Guards?"
The expression of bewilderment that came upon the ebony faces by which he was surrounded prepared Marcy for the reply. The servants, one and all, declared that they did not know what he meant; and this made it plain that the rebels in the settlement were beginning to learn that their black people could not be trusted to keep their secrets. He went into the house to tell his mother what he had learned, and finding his filly at the door when he came back, he mounted and rode away.
The first white man he saw was one who could have told him all about the Home Guards if he had been so disposed. It was Captain Beardsley, who was still in the field with his negroes, Tom Allison and Mark Goodwin having left him a few minutes before Marcy came up. The man did not stop his work and come to the fence, nor did he look up as Marcy rode by; and this made the latter believe that his old captain had some reason for wishing to avoid him.
"He is going to spring something else on me, and before long, too," was what Marcy said to himself as he passed on down the road. "When Beardsley won't talk he is dangerous."
That he had shot close to the mark was made evident to Marcy before ten minutes more had passed over his head. A short distance farther on was the gate which gave entrance to the carriage-way that ran by the ruins of Beardsley's home. It was wide open, and as he rode up he saw a horseman passing through it. Marcy had a fair view of him, and recognized him at once as the man Hanson, his mother's old overseer; and he was riding one of Beardsley's horses.
Marcy Gray had seldom thought of his mother's overseer since he learned that he had been spirited away by armed and masked men, and, when he did, it was to indulge in the hope that he would never see or hear of him again. He did not believe that Hanson would dare disregard the warning of the Union men, who had "turned him loose, with orders never to show his face in the settlement again;" but here he was, riding along the public road in broad daylight, without making the least effort at concealment, and, to make the situation more alarming, he was riding one of Captain Beardsley's horses. Acting upon the first thought that came into his mind, Marcy urged his filly forward, intending to speak to the man, and Hanson, nothing loath, turned his horse about to wait for him.
"I'm on hands agin, like a bad piece of money," he said, with a laugh.
"So I see," answered Marcy. "And I must say that I little expected to meet you."
Hanson's response, and the way in which he acted, disheartened Marcy Gray, for they gave him a clew to the course this enemy of his mother's had marked out for himself. The first thing he did was to ride up and offer Marcy his hand, and the boy took it, because he did not think it would be policy to refuse. He wanted to find out what the man's plans were, and he could not do that by making him angry the first thing he did. Then Hanson went on to say:
"But I'm back agin, all the same, and safe and sound, too. I hope you didn't think I would let them few Yankees scare me away from my home altogether? I belong on your plantation, and there's right where I am going before I am many hours older."
This was an astounding and terrifying statement, and it was a minute or two before Marcy could collect his wits sufficiently to reply to it.
"We never expected you to come back, and so I took your place," said he at length. "I am my mother's overseer now."
"You!" exclaimed Hanson, with a laugh. "What do you know about farming and driving niggers? 'Taint gentleman's work, that aint, and you aint by no means suited to it. I'll take it off your hands now. 'Cording to my contract, I can't leave till next month, any way, and, besides, I've lost right smart of time. I didn't leave the plantation of my own free will; but that don't make no difference."
"We owe you a little money, and mother will give it to you any day you call for it; but we don't ask you to make up any lost time," said Marcy, who couldn't bear the thought of having this sneaking Hanson on the plantation again.
"I know what my duty is," replied the overseer very decidedly, "and I mean to do it. I bargained with your mother for so much a year. I want every cent of that money, for I can't afford to do without it; but I shan't ask for it till I have done twelve good solid months of work."
Marcy felt like yelling, and it was only by a great effort of will that he controlled himself. He knew pretty nearly what was before him now. He believed that Beardsley had kept track of Hanson; that he knew where he had been all the while, and that he had brought him back to fill out his unexpired term as overseer, because he had failed to induce Marcy and his mother to employ Kelsey in his place. Hanson would make it his business to get on the track of that money. He would not succeed, of course; but Mrs. Gray would not see a moment's peace during her waking hours, or enjoy a moment's refreshing sleep at night, as long as Hanson remained on the place. Oh, why was not Aleck Webster on hand to tell him what to do in a case like this?
"I knowed your maw would be looking for me to come back and finish out my time," continued Hanson, "but I was most afraid to come till I heard that the coast was clear, and I wouldn't be in no danger of being pestered by them Union men."
"There are some of them about here yet," said Marcy.
"Not many, there aint," replied the overseer, who seemed to understand the situation perfectly. "The wust of them have went into the Yankee navy; and them that's left aint men to be afraid of. Besides, I've got a body guard that won't put up with no nonsense from them or any other Union men. You know all about the Home Guards?"
"I heard of them for the first time this morning," said Marcy truthfully. "But then I have not been around much since I came home."
The last words slipped out before Marcy knew it; but Hanson seemed to take them as a matter of course, for he said in reply:
"I don't know as I blame you for keeping clost to home for a few days. You couldn't do no other way than you did do, but there's some onreasonable folks about who stick to it that you had oughter run that there gunboat on the ground. That's what Beardsley allowed to do, but they didn't give him the chance. I wouldn't like to be one who had anything to do with the burning of Beardsley's house. He's an officer in the Home Guards, a leftenant or something, and he allows to hunt them men down the first thing he does."
"Probably he knows where to look for them," said Marcy.
"If he don't he can guess pretty clost to the place," answered Hanson. "But you're all right. Nobody in this settlement is going to let harm come to you."
"When did you return, and how does it come that you are riding the captain's horse?"
"Oh, him and me has always been friends, and when he got Miss Brown to write to me in Newbern that it was safe for me to come back and work my year out on your plantation, and that he knew you and your maw was looking for me to do it, as any honest man should, I come right to his house. I've been here three days, looking round and keeping sorter clost in doors, and allow to go up to your place this afternoon."
So it seemed that there was no help for it, at least for the present. The man had told him some things he was glad to know, and talked as though he believed Marcy to be as good a rebel as he was himself. Perhaps he would be willing to go further and tell him how he, Marcy, stood in the estimation of the Home Guards.
"I suppose the object of that organization is to make Union men behave themselves," he said, at a venture.
"You're mighty right," answered Hanson. "Likewise to see that all the prisoners about here, who was paroled at the Island, go back to the army where they belong. Some of 'em have been talking agin the 'Federacy in a way we uns don't like to hear, and we're going to put a stop to all sich work as that."
"No one asked me to join, and that is the reason I knew nothing about it," continued Marcy. "When you see Beardsley, will you tell him that I want to come in?"
If he expected the man to hesitate or raise objections he was disappointed, for Hanson answered readily:
"I'll do it. You'll get in easy enough, and I know Beardsley will be glad to have you. Some of our men aint got a thing in the way of guns, and I know you wouldn't mind lending some of yours that you don't need. Well, I must be piking along. I'll be up this afternoon, tell your maw."
"And it will be the worst news she ever heard," thought Marcy, as the two separated and rode away in different directions. "What he is up to now I can't imagine; but he has strong backing, I know from the way he talks. Mother has always been afraid that he would come back to trouble her, and here he is. And here am I without a friend to advise or assist me. I was almost sure that something like this would happen when Aleck Webster and his friends deserted me."
But if Aleck was gone there was at least one man in the neighborhood who was able and willing to take his place, and that was Ben Hawkins, the paroled prisoner, whom he encountered before he left Beardsley's gate a quarter of a mile behind. The man was sitting on his horse in the middle of the road, and the first words he spoke seemed to indicate that he was waiting for Marcy.
"Who was that onery looking chap I met along here a spell ago riding Beardsley's old clay-bank?" said Hawkins. "I seen you talking to him up there."
"Oh, Mr. Hawkins," exclaimed Marcy, who had suddenly resolved to put a certain matter to the test then and there. "You saw and talked with a Federal scouting party that came through here this morning, and the officer in command told me that you are a good friend of mine. Is that so or not?"
"What do you want me to do to prove it?" asked the rebel in reply.
"Ob, a hundred things," answered Marcy. "But in the first place, do you know anything about the Home Guards?"
"Being one of 'em I oughter know all about 'em," was the reply. "But not being pizen enough agin the Unionists to suit 'em, I have sorter got it into my head that they are keeping some things from me. All the same, I know enough to be sartin sure that they mean harm to you."
"That is what I thought; and I am certain of it too, now that this Hanson has returned. He used to be my mother's overseer, and is the man who was taken from his house and carried into the swamp."
"So that's the chap, is it?" exclaimed Hawkins. "I didn't know him, for your mother hired him after I 'listed; but I've heard as much as I want to know about him. Of course he is going back on the place to stay his time out?"
"That is what he says; but the worst of it is that he wants to make up the time he lost by being carried away. Now, is there any way in which I can stop that?"
"You can shoot him, I reckon. That's what I'd do for any man who kept shoving himself on me when he wasn't wanted, like this feller is shoving himself on you and your maw."
Marcy made no reply, for nothing he could then think of would have induced him to carry things as far as that. Hawkins understood this, and after thinking a moment he added:
"You can give his name to the fust Yankee officer you meet scouting around out here, or you can leave a note on Beardsley's gallery and Shelby's, telling them that, if they don't get him off your place in a little less than no time, some more of their buildings will go up in smoke. Where's the schooner that Beardsley used to run the blockade in? He'd ruther lose half his niggers than lose her."
"I know what you mean, but the trouble is I can't prove anything on him. I can't bear the thought of destroying his property just because I think he is persecuting me."
"If you should blame everything that has happened to you on him you would not be fur wrong," said Hawkins earnestly. "He's mighty savage agin you for not trying to make that gunboat cap'n quit putting him in irons——"
"How in the name of common sense could I stop it?" cried Marcy. "Ididn't volunteer to go on that boat (I blame Jonas for that), and wouldCaptain Benton have paid any attention to me if I had interceded forBeardsley? I might have brought myself into difficulty by it."
"Course," replied Hawkins. "A blind man could see that, but all the same Beardsley means to even up with you 'cause he was ironed and you wasn't. He is first leftenant of the Home Guards, Colonel Shelby being the captain, and he's going to take you out'n your bed some night and send you to Williamston."
"What for?" exclaimed Marcy.
"And put you in jail there," continued Hawkins. "The lock-up is jammed full of Union men already, but they'll find room for one more. And mind you, after you onct get in you'll not come out till you promise to 'list in the Confederate army. That's the way they are doing now to put patriotism into people who aint got any."
"Do you know when the Home Guards intend to come to our house?"
"No, I don't. I wisht I did, so't I could tell you when to be on the watch for 'em; but that's one of the things they aint told me, and the only way I can think of for you to beat 'em is to be on your guard night and day, beginning now."
While this conversation was going on Marcy and his companion had been riding slowly in the direction of Nashville. Just before they came within sight of the town they met a man dressed in a ragged uniform, and riding a mule that looked as though it had served through two or three hard campaigns. Marcy recognized him as a poor white of the Kelsey stamp, and Hawkins told him in a whisper that he was a paroled prisoner like himself, a friend of his, a member of his company and mess, and also a Home Guard whom the officers were not afraid to trust. If Marcy would ride on and leave him alone with the man, he might be able to obtain some information from him. Marcy was glad to agree to this programme, and it was duly carried out. He went ahead and waited half an hour in Nashville, and might have remained a still longer time had he not seen Hawkins ride a short distance down the road from the first turn, and then wheel his horse and ride back again out of sight. Taking this for a signal, Marcy mounted his filly and set out for home; and, as he expected, found Hawkins in the lonely place in the road where he had held two interviews with Aleck Webster. He thought the man looked very sober, but before he could speak of it Hawkins said, in a thrilling whisper:
"Mister Marcy, you aint safe in this here settlement one hour longer. I dunno but you had oughter be out of it now."
"What did that friend of yours tell you?" asked the boy, with a desperate effort to appear calm, although he knew that his face was as white as it could be.
"He said the Home Guards have got things fixed jest as they want 'em, and that they are liable to begin operations any time," answered Hawkins, who looked as uneasy as Marcy felt. "Beardsley won't hear to nothing but that you must be got rid of the very fust thing. You know too much to be let loose any longer."
"I know that Beardsley was a smuggler, and believe I could have made trouble for him by saying that much to Captain Benton; but I did not do it," replied Marcy. "I hadn't the heart to do it, and neither did I think he would dare do anything to me so long as the Yankees are so thick about here."
"There's where you made the biggest kind of a mistake," said the rebel, in a tone of disgust. "I don't see why you were so easy on him when you know that he is doing all he can to pester you. My advice to you is to leave this very night."
"But where shall I go?" cried Marcy. "And how do I know but they will take some sort of vengeance on my mother if they fail to find me?"
"Beardsley won't do the first thing to her, for mean as the Home Guards are, there's some among 'em, and one of 'em is talking to you at this minute, who won't by no means stand by and see him go as far as that. But if she should see them snake you out'n the house and tote you off to jail, don't you reckon that would worry her? Your best plan is to light out while you can."
"But you have not yet told me where to go," Marcy reminded him.
"Put straight to the swamp and find those Union men," replied the rebel."There's some of 'em there now."
"But I don't know where to find them. The swamps along the coast cover a good deal of ground——"
"I know where to find 'em," interrupted Hawkins. "Now, I'll tell you what to do: you go straight home, pack up any little things you want to take with you for comfort, and when night comes get into one of your boats and put straight down the bayou for Middle River. Look out fur yourself, fur it's likely that the Yankees have posted sentries all along the river, and if they chuck you into the guard-house, there's no telling when they will turn you loose. It might put you to some trouble to prove that you aint a Confederate spy. And when you get into Middle River t'other side of Plymouth, you will find a friend on the bank who will tell you what to do."
"Who will he be? What shall I call him?" asked Marcy.
"He will be old man Webster, the father of that sailor who promised to stand by you through thick and thin, and then went off and 'listed. He's home now, and as soon as I leave you, I'll ride straight down to his house and tell him what sort of 'rangement me and you have come to. Oh, I am all right with the Union men, even if I do wear a gray jacket; and if they aint afraid to trust me you needn't be."
"I am not afraid to trust you," Marcy hastened to say. "But I don't like to leave mother. It looks cowardly."
"You want her to have some peace of mind, don't you?" demanded Hawkins, almost angrily. "Well, she'll see a heap more of it if you will do as I tell you and clear yourself, than she will if you stay to home. As long as I am foot-loose, I'll make it my business to go to your house as often as any of the Home Guards go there, and the first one who don't do jest right will have to answer to me fur it."
"I thank you for the assurance," began Marcy.
"I aint got no time to hear you talk that a way," exclaimed the rebel. "What I want to know is whether you are going to foller my advice or not."
Marcy said very emphatically that he was.
"Cause, if you don't, you are liable to be started on the road to jail before this time tomorrer," added Hawkins.
"I'll do just as you have told me, and there's my hand on it," replied Marcy. "You will be sure to arrange matters so that Mr. Webster will meet me on the river?"
The soldier assured him that he could be depended on to do as he had agreed, and after another lingering hand-shake they separated, Hawkins to carry out his part of the programme, and Marcy to take a budget of most unwelcome news to his mother. But she bore up under it better than he did. She declared that her heart would be much lighter if she knew her son was in full possession of his liberty, even though he was compelled to hide in the swamp for the time being, than it would be if she were called upon to remember, every hour in the day, that he was shut up in jail, with a fair prospect before him of being forced into the Confederate army, and she urged him to carry out Hawkins's instructions to the very letter. And in order to show him that she meant he should do that very thing, she began at once to pack his valise. When she left the room for a few minutes, Marcy, having become satisfied that Hawkins's plan was the best, and in fact the only one that could be followed under the circumstances, seated himself at the desk, pulled out a sheet of foolscap paper, and began writing a short note upon it. While thus engaged his face wore a most determined expression, and when the note was finished he put it into his pocket. But he said nothing to his mother about it.
The hours were a long time in dragging themselves away, but Marcy and his mother had many small details to arrange and many things to talk about, and only once was he out of her presence. That was when he made a trip to the creek, in company with Julius, to select the boat that was to take him down the river. He raised the black boy very high in his own estimation by making a confidant of him and promising to take him along as his servant, and in order to provide against the upsetting of his plan by some awkward blunder on the part of Julius, he told him just what he was going to do when darkness came to conceal his movements, and how he intended to do it. It was well for him that he went to so much trouble, as we shall presently see.
When the afternoon was about half spent Hanson and his trunk made their appearance in one of Beardsley's wagons, and Mrs. Gray and Marcy listened to his story in the kitchen—the only room about the house to which the man had ever been admitted. And the kitchen wasn't in the house, but a short distance away from it, and under its own roof. The overseer made his statement to Mrs. Gray in much the same words that he had made it to Marcy; and when the lady made a mistake by saying that, after the experience he had already had with the Union men, she should think he would be afraid to return to that plantation, the man answered in tones so insolent and savage that Marcy felt inclined to resent them on the spot.
"Them villains toted me off onct, Miss Gray, but they won't never do it again. I know who they were, I've got friends enough around me to hang every one of 'em, and I'm going to do it before I ever leave this place. You hear me?"
Those were the words he used, but his manner seemed to say: "I am on this plantation with the intention of remaining. I came for a purpose, and you dare not turn me off." Marcy understood that to be his meaning, and made up his mind that he and Hanson would have a settlement in a very few days. Mrs. Gray understood him, but she did not give expression to the fears that came upon her, for she knew that by so doing she would dishearten her son who, just, then, needed all the encouragement she could give him.
It began to grow dark about supper time, and Julius came slouching into the sitting-room as if he had no particular business there, but in reality to listen to the instructions that Marcy had promised to have ready for him at that time.
"You will find the guns and things that you are to hide on the floor of my room," said the boy. "My revolvers, fowling-piece, and a good supply of ammunition are on my bed; but you must not touch them. They are to go with us to the swamp. Be as sly as you can, for, if the Home Guards catch you at the work, they will give you something you never had yet—a striped shirt."
During the next hour Julius was in and out of the house several times, and on each occasion he took something away with him; while Marcy and his mother sat side by side on the sofa trying, as Marcy put it, "to do talking enough to last them during the separation that was soon to come." At last Julius moved silently along the hall and appeared at the door of the sitting-room with a heavy valise in his hand, and a bundle of quilts and blankets thrown over his shoulder.
"Dis all," he whispered, in his short, jerky way, "an' you best be gettin' out'n dar. Good-by, missus. Julius gwine run now like ole Mose."
"You haven't seen or heard anything suspicious, have you?"
"Oh, hursh, honey," was the reply. "If Julius hear sumfin, don't you reckon he got sense 'nough to tell? You best be gettin' out'n dar 'fore dey come. Good-by, missus."
"Go ahead with those things, and I will be at the boat by the time you are," said Marcy.
Julius disappeared, but it was not so easy for his master to follow him as it was to talk about it. He found it hard to tear himself away, and lingered long over the parting so long, in fact, that Julius grew tired of waiting for him. He placed the valise and blankets in the bow of the boat, made sure for the twentieth time that the little craft was ready for the start, and then sauntered back to the house to see why Marcy did not come. But he did not find the coast clear this time. Just as he was passing through the gate he heard a slight rustling in the bushes that lined the carriageway on both sides. Without waiting a second to see what made the noise, the quick-witted darky took to his heels; but, before he had made half a dozen steps, a man stepped into the carriage-way in front of him and seized him by the arm. Julius looked up, and saw that he was in the grasp of Captain Beardsley.
"None of that, you little varmint," said the captain. "You stay here with me."
As he spoke he tightened his grasp and began dragging his prisoner toward the concealment from which he had just emerged; whereupon the black boy set up a yell that could have been heard half a mile away. And what was more, he kept on yelling until Beardsley clapped his big hand over his mouth, and put a stop to the performance.
The little darky was not very badly frightened on his own account—he never got that way unless he saw or heard something he could not understand—but he was overwhelmed with anxiety for Marcy Gray, who had not yet left the presence of his mother. Julius believed that the dwelling had been surrounded by the Home Guards while he was stowing the valise and blankets in the boat, and if that proved to be the case, Marcy would in all probability start for Williamston jail instead of the swamp. The black boy thought of these things in an instant of time, and did what he could to upset the plans of the Home Guards by yelling at the top of his voice.
"Keep still, you little fule," said Beardsley, in an angry whisper."Nobody's going to hurt you."
"Aint, hey?" exclaimed a second man, who at that moment came upon the scene. "I'll hurt him to-morrow, I bet you; I'll have him brung into the field; and he has heard me talk often enough to know what them words mean."
Just then Julius succeeded in freeing himself from Beardsley's grasp, and it was well for him that he did so, for the man had almost smothered him by holding his nose between his thumb and fore-finger at the same time that he covered his mouth with the rest of his hand. The negro gasped once or twice, and then sank to the ground like a piece of wet rope.
"All right. Let him lay there till he gets ready to get up," saidCaptain Beardsley. "Where's the men? Where's Shelby!"
"The men started on a run for the house the minute that black villain yelled," replied Hanson; for he was the one who came to Beardsley's assistance. "Shelby is round on the other side watching the back door, and he sent me to see what the fursing was about. Now I'll go back and tell him."
"And be sure that you and him keep out of sight when Marcy is brought out," cautioned Beardsley. "You don't want to let him get a sight at ary one of you, for there's no telling when he will have the power on his own side."
The overseer hastened away, trusting more to the darkness than to the bushes in the yard to conceal him from Mrs. Gray's view and Marcy's, should either of them chance to look out at the window, and the captain moved a few steps nearer to the carriage-way, so that he could look at the house through the branches of an evergreen. When he first peeped out the front windows were all dark; but presently lights began to appear here and there, heavy steps and loud angry voices were heard in the house, and finally the front door opened, and a man, carrying a lighted lamp in his hand, came out and walked the whole length of it. Captain Beardsley was surprised, and he felt uncomfortable, too. If the boy of whom they were in search was in the house he ought to have been discovered before this time; and if he had escaped, where could he have gone unless it was to Plymouth or to the Union men who were hidden in the swamp? If he had gone to either place Captain Beardsley knew it meant the loss of more buildings to him and Colonel Shelby.
"And if he's went off it is bekase some traitor or 'nother in our company told him he'd better," soliloquized Beardsley, when he saw the lights shining from the windows of the upper rooms. "Julius, come here. I want to ask you something."
The black boy had by this time recovered his breath and strength enough to sit up. He had all his wits about him, and was as much interested in what was going on in the house as Captain Beardsley himself. He saw the lights ascend from the lower rooms to those in the second story, and finally he saw them in the garret and in the observatory on the roof; and when no shout of triumph, or any sound to indicate that there was a disturbance in the house, came to his ears to tell him that his master had been traced to his hiding-place and captured, the wild hope seized upon him that Marcy, in some mysterious manner, had succeeded in eluding the Home Guards. If that was the case he would of course make the best of his way to the boat; and if he got there before Julius did he would shove off alone, and Julius would be left behind to labor under the lash of the overseer. He thought he would rather die than do that, but how could he escape from Beardsley and reach the creek in time to meet Marcy there? When he heard the captain calling to him he got upon his feet and approached the carriage-way, just as Beardsley bent his head almost to the ground, to watch a light that was shining from one of the cellar windows. He held that position for a moment, and then a roar like that of a thousand Niagaras rang in his ears and all was blank to him. He sank limp and motionless to the ground, while Julius took to his heels and disappeared through the gate. Half an hour later, when the Home Guards came out of the house without finding Marcy Gray or anything that could be used as evidence against him, they were astounded and greatly alarmed to find Captain Beardsley lying unconscious in the carriageway.
And where was Marcy all this time! When the black boy's first note of warning fell upon his ear he was imprinting a farewell kiss upon his mother's lips and giving her a last embrace; but they fell apart instantly when they heard that wild cry, for they knew what it meant.
"There they are!" gasped Mrs. Gray. "Marcy, I am afraid I have detained you too long."
"You have not kept me a moment," said Marcy quickly, "for I was no more anxious to go than you were to have me. Keep them in the house as long as you can, and I will go into the cellar and try to slip through one of the windows into the garden. Poor Julius will be broken-hearted when he finds that I went without him. Once more good-by, and don't expect to see me under a week."
[Illustration: JULIUS GIVES THE ALARM.]
Pressing as the need for haste was, Marcy snatched another farewell kiss and ran out of the room, taking care not to pass between a window and a lamp that stood on the centre-table. He caught his cap from the rack as he hurried through the hall, and in less time than it takes to tell it, was standing before an open cellar window, waiting and listening. His ears told him when the Home Guards charged upon the house and entered it through the back and side doors, and believing that the sentries, if there had been any posted outside, would be wholly engrossed with what was going on in the dwelling, he seized upon that particular moment to make his attempt at escape. Slowly and carefully he crawled up into the window, and when he raised his head above the ground all he could see were bushes and trees and a starlit sky, and all he could hear was the murmur of voices in the sitting-room. If the doors were guarded, as it was reasonable to suppose they were, this particular cellar window was not, and Marcy made haste to crawl out of it and across an intervening flower-bed to the friendly shelter of a thicket of bushes beyond. He did not linger there an instant, but taking it for granted that Ben Hawkins was with the Home Guards, and remembering that the man had promised to see that they behaved themselves while they were in his mother's house, he started at once for the creek, crawling on his hands and knees until he was sure he had passed beyond the sentries that he thought ought to have been left in the yard, and then he sprang up and ran like a deer. He hardly knew when he reached the fence, over which he went as easily as though he had been furnished with wings, but he knew when he halted on the bank of the creek and caught Julius in the act of shoving off with the boat. Thinking only of Captain Beardsley and the overseer and his whip, the frightened black boy could not be prevailed upon to stop until he had pushed the boat to the middle of the stream, where he felt comparatively safe; and then he looked over his shoulder to see who his pursuer was.
"Why, honey!" he exclaimed, as he got out the oars and backed the boat toward the place where Marcy was standing. "Was dat you? What you doin' hyar? How come dey don't cotch you in de house?"
"Come here quick, and take me on board," replied Marcy; and he continued, as he stepped into the stern of the boat and picked up the paddle he had provided for a steering oar: "What do you mean by trying to desert me in this fashion; and was that you yelling a while ago?"
"Yes sar, Marse Mahcy, it was Julius done dat yellin', an' I done it kase I aint want Cap'n Beardsley to cotch you in de house," answered the boy, as he laid out his strength on the oars, and sent the boat swiftly away from the bank.
"Are you sure that Beardsley was with those men?" asked Marcy earnestly. "Think twice before you speak, or you may be the means of making me do something that I shall be sorry for as long as I live."
"Julius don't need to think no two times 'fore he answer dat question. De cap'n was dar, an' so was de oberseer. I know, kase de cap'n squoze my arm till it blacker' n my skin. An' de oberseer 'low to take me to de field in de mawnin'."
"If Beardsley had you by the arm how did you manage to get away from him?" said Marcy, who had good reason for wishing to be sure of his ground.
"Well, sar, moster, I buck him; dat's de way I got loose from de cap'n. He scrooch down dis a way, so he kin look in de suller." said Julius, bending forward until his back was nearly on a level with the gunwales of the boat, "an' I whack him behine de ear, an' he drap so quick he don't know what hit him. Dat's de troof, sure's you born."
Marcy did not doubt it, for if Beardsley had been foolish enough to place himself in that position while Julius was within reach of him, the black boy could have knocked him senseless without any trouble at all. He was the acknowledged champion "bucker" of the neighborhood, and had been known to do such things. The most pugnacious among the little darkies would scream out in terror, and seek safety in flight, if Julius raised one foot from the ground and hopped toward him on the other with his head lowered threateningly, and there was not one among them with a head hard enough to stand against him for a moment if Julius succeeded in catching him by the ears. He could double up the strongest negro on the plantation by butting him in the pit of the stomach, and he would do it if one of them incurred his displeasure, even though he had to wait a month to find his opportunity. And he told nothing but the truth when he said that he had knocked Captain Beardsley down in that way. All he wanted now was a chance at the overseer. He knew that Mrs. Gray and Marcy did not want him on the place, and consequently Julius did not think he would be punished for butting him "good fashion."
"Did Beardsley or Hanson say anything about me?" was Marcy's next question.
"All I heard de cap'n say was dat de oberseer an' Shelby want to watch out dat you don't see 'em when you come out'n de house," replied Julius. "Dey don't want you to know dey was dar."
Julius gave way strong on the oars and Marcy steered the boat, listened for sounds of pursuit, and thought over the situation. He made up his mind to one thing before he had left the house fairly out of sight, and that was that Captain Beardsley and Colonel Shelby would be sorry that they had had anything to do with the Home Guards. His patience was all gone now, and every move they made should be met by a counter-movement on his own part. He thought he knew the name of every man in the company, and he would take pains to see that the Federal commander at Plymouth knew them also and where they lived; and while he was waiting for the Yankees to do something he would do something himself, beginning that very night.
Having at last satisfied himself that the Home Guards were not pursuing him, Marcy dismissed them from his mind for the present, his actions indicating that he was looking for some object he expected to find in the creek in advance of him. He was searching for Beardsley's schooner, and was so long in finding it that he began to fear her owner had stolen a march upon him by towing her from the creek to a safer hiding-place. But the captain evidently thought she could not be in any safer berth than the one she had always occupied in the creek in front of his house, for there was where Marcy found her, as he was on the point of giving up the search and telling Julius to pull for Middle River the best he knew how, for there was a man waiting for them there.
"It seems a pity to destroy a fine vessel like this," said Marcy, as Julius caught the fore chains and allowed the current to swing the boat broadside to theHattie.
"Well, den, what for dat rebel burn all dem fine ships out on de watah like Marse Jack tell about?" demanded Julius. "An' what for de cap'n brung all dem Home Gyards to de house to cotch you an' tote you off to jail?"
With all Beardsley's persecutions so fresh in his mind, Marcy Gray did not stand upon the order of going to work but went at once. Before Julius ceased speaking he was over the schooner's rail, with a bag of "fat" wood in one hand and an axe in the other. The hatches were fastened down of course, and the door that gave entrance to the cabin was locked; but the latter yielded to a single heavy blow with the axe, and Marcy went in and emptied his bag of kindling wood upon the floor. Then he piled upon it everything he found in the cabin that he could move, including the slats in the bunks, the tables and chairs, and the doors that he could tear from their hinges. Over all he poured a couple of quarts of oil from bottles that he had brought with him for the purpose, and set fire to it in three or four different places. He waited until he saw the work of destruction fairly begun, and then ran on deck and dropped into the boat.
"Now set me ashore at the foot of that poplar to which the breast-line is made fast," said he. "I want Beardsley to know who did this work, and why it was done. But of course he knows without any telling."
"Hi yi, Marse Mahcy, she gwine go right up in de elemunts!" cried Julius, as a cloud of smoke, which was brightly illumined by the fire that was blazing beneath, came pouring out of the cabin-door.
"I think I made a sure thing of it," answered Marcy. "Of course she will burn readily, for everything in the cabin is covered with paint or varnish. We can't get away from here any too quick. Hurry up."
It did not take Julius more than two minutes to row around the stern of the schooner to the tree to which the breast-line was fastened, nor did it take Marcy longer than that to spring ashore and place upon a neighboring tree, in a conspicuous position where it would be sure to catch the eye of the first man who passed that way, the note which he had written that afternoon while his mother was packing his valise. It was addressed to Captain Beardsley, and ran as follows:
This is to pay you for the share you had in bringing Hanson back to our plantation, and in organizing the Home Guards to take me to Williamston Jail. This is the first payment on a big debt I owe you and Colonel Shelby. If you do not wish any more like it take Hanson away from our place at once and keep him away; and furthermore, keep everybody else away from there. You are on a false scent, and so long as you follow it, so long will you continue to lose property. There is no large sum of money in or around the house. When you become satisfied of that fact perhaps you will cease troubling my mother.
Placing this note on the side of the tree opposite the fire so that it would not be scorched by the heat, and fastening it there with three or four wooden pins so that the wind would not blow it away, Marcy ran back to the boat, and Julius once more pushed out into the stream. He turned to look behind him every few minutes, but the boat was pulled into Middle River, and perhaps two or three miles down its swift current toward the coast, before he saw any signs of the fire he had left behind; and at the moment his eye caught its first faint reflection on the clouds, he heard a cautious hail from the bank.
"Boat ahoy!" came through the darkness in tones that were just loud enough to attract his attention.
"Who is it?" demanded Marcy, picking up the loaded gun that lay beside him in the stern-sheets. "Way enough, Julius."
"Mebbe dat aint de man you want see," replied the boy, handling the oars as if he meant to turn the boat toward the opposite bank.
"I am Aleck Webster's father," said the voice, in answer to Marcy's question. "Ben Hawkins sent me here to show you the way to our camp."
"When did you see Hawkins?" inquired Marcy.
"This afternoon; and he told me that the Home Guards were likely to drive you away from home to-night. It's all right, Mister Marcy."
The latter was so sure of it that he at once turned the boat toward the point from which the voice came (the night was so dark that he could not see anything but bushes and trees on the bank), and in two minutes more was standing by Mr. Webster's side. The man pointed toward the bright spot on the clouds and said, in a voice that Marcy recognized this time: