There was but a momentary pause. We had not, occupied as we had been with each other, seen the flash which preceded or accompanied the thunder; but before I could persuade Bessy to sit down by me again, a blaze, gleaming through every crack and cranny of the hut, dazzled our eyes, succeeded by a peal, breaking just over head, as if mountains had fallen, which, echoed and re-echoed round by the forest, exceeded, in deafening roar, anything I had ever heard, even in the Indian ocean. Then came the rushing sound of the descending rain, first pattering heavily on the thatch, and then sounding with one continuous noise, like that of a waterfall. The frail covering above us could not withstand the flood, and here and there the water began to drop on the floor, especially near the walls. The space around the table, indeed, remained free; but, fearing that our poor brown companion in the adjoining room might suffer before she was aware--for negroes will sleep through anything--I ventured to look in. Jenny had heard no thunder, nor had the lightning passed before her eyes with any effect. She slept as soundly as if there was no war of elements, nor any other dangers nigh. But the thatch over that room had been more solidly constructed, and the rain had not penetrated. Satisfied on that score, I returned to the other room, and again seated myself beside Bessy, placing my gun and a pistol on the table, where I could see that they did not get wet. I had not returned a moment too soon, for I had no time to utter a word before the door of the hut was pushed sharply open, and a dark form presented itself at the aperture. On the first impulse, I snatched up the gun, and, pointing it at the doorway, exclaimed, "Stand!" while Bessy cowered down in her chair with a look of terror, but did not speak or move from her seat.
"Stand!" I exclaimed again, seeing the man take a step forward, "Stand, or I fire! What do you want?"
"Shelter--food," answered the negro. "Fire, if you like! It matters little." As he spoke, I perceived by the dim light that the intruder was the leader of the sanguinary band who had crushed out so many a happy hearth, and made so many a household desolate.
"Keep back for a moment," he said, turning to some one without. Then, confronting me again, he added, "I am starving, and so are those with me. God's storms are raging through the forest. Will you give me some food? Will you allow me and mine to take shelter here till the deluge has passed over? On my life, no harm shall happen to you; if not, fire, and you will find you have killed the only one who could protect you."
"Will you swear by the God whom you adore, and who you fancy has guided you," I asked, "that neither you nor your companions will offer any violence, and that you will quit the hut the moment the storm is ended--nay, that you will not move forward from that side of the cabin while you are here?"
"I swear!" he answered. "But you, too, must promise that you will not betray me." I thought for an instant; but the consideration of Bessy's safety prevailed over every other, and I promised.
"Who is in the other room?" he asked, seeing a light gleaming through a chink in the door.
"Only one other person," I answered, "who is under my command. You are quite secure if you keep your oath. If you do not, I have three lives, at least, at my disposal."
"I have sworn by the Almighty," said the man, in a tone almost of indignation. Then, turning to the door again, he exclaimed, "Come in!" Two other negroes instantly appeared from behind him, and as all three were armed, the odds against me, in case of strife, were somewhat serious. I had trusted, however, to my own conception of the man's character, for, although every sort of abuse had been piled upon him by all ranks and classes in the county town, and though certainly his deeds, during the last days, had been of the most remorseless and brutal nature, yet I had come to a conclusion which nothing could shake, that superstitious fanaticism was at the bottom of all his actions--good and evil. Nor had I any cause to change my opinion from his conduct towards me. He pledged himself by the Being whom he madly believed to be his prompter and guide in all his wickedness; and I rightly believed he would keep his word. He himself and both his companions looked gaunt, exhausted, and famished; and I am convinced that had I refused them the boon of food and shelter which they required in their desperate condition, they would not only have taken it, but the lives of all within the hut.
"There, in that basket, is the only food I have to give you," I said. "Take it and share it amongst you. We have not been well supplied ourselves; but you want it more than we do." One of the men was starting forward to seize the basket; but Nat Turner put him sternly back, saying,--
"I have promised that you should not go a step forward from that side of the cabin. By your permission, sir, I will take the food, for we do want it indeed."
"Leave us some, leave us some," cried a voice behind me; and, turning round, I beheld old Jenny, who, though she had slept through the thunder, had woke up, it would seem, at the sound of human voices.
"I was well nigh starved to death to-day by that old Thornton, and I don't want to die o' hunger to-morrow, nor see you nor Missie Bessy either, Mas'r Conway." A grim sort of smile came over Nat Turner's dark countenance as he threw the pine-knots out of the basket on the floor, and helped his companions with his own hands to the coarse bread and raw salt fish which lay beneath. He took a small portion himself also, but less than he gave them; and, looking first at me, and then at Bessy, he said,--
"You have found, I fancy, that white men can be as hard and cruel as negroes--but without the same cause." As he spoke, he rolled his eyes in his head with a fierce, almost insane look; and then added abruptly,--
"This cabin was built by an old negro as a place of refuge from the brutality of one of your white men. We break forth for a moment when we can bear no longer, destroy, kill, murder, if you like; but has any one of us inflicted as much misery, done as much harm, as that man in the course of his long life? If we had done rightly, he would have been the first sacrifice to the God of vengeance. We should have chosen our victims equitably; and perhaps it is for this that the Almighty favour is withdrawn from us; but the time may come when it will be restored."
"Ah, Nat, Nat," said Jenny, "I did not think you would have done such terrible things as you have done--you, who always seemed kind and good, and to be a God-fearing man."
"Woman, I did God's bidding!" answered Nat Turner, with a sharp, angry look; "and I will do it still, but more wisely." He then fell into a fit of deep thought, fixing his eyes upon the floor, and remaining on his feet, though his two companions had seated themselves on the ground. Every two or three minutes the lightning continued to flash, and the thunder to roar, and the rain still poured down in torrents.
"I wish, dearest Bessy," I said, in a low voice, "you would go into the other room and rest. This man will keep his word with us. There is no danger."
"I will stay by your side, Richard," she answered in a whisper; "this is my place." A long pause ensued; and certainly curious sensations arose--sensations not very pleasant, when I reflected that before me were three men whose hands, within the last eight-and-forty hours, had been steeped in the blood of nearly eighty human beings, most of them women and children. At length, Nat Turner broke silence, saying abruptly, and in a gloomy tone,--
"What was that you told me about the sign I saw in the sun--an eclipse you called it?" I gave him the same explanation I had done before, telling him that it was a mere natural phenomenon, which occurred at periods easy to be calculated, in consequence of the regular movements of the planets.
"Can I have been mistaken?" he muttered between his teeth. "No, no!" he added in a louder tone; "the sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord! It was the sign, it was the sign! The vision and the prophecy cannot be mistaken. I saw him stand on my right side with a rod in his hand, and he pointed to the sky, and he told me to be up and doing. It shall be fulfilled even yet. But the wheat must first be winnowed from the chaff, and the tares rooted out, that it be the work of the husbandman. What though there be few left, others shall rise up. Hands more meet hearts more firm, to do the mighty and terrible work of the Lord." His two companions fixed their eyes on his face, evidently regarding him as one inspired; and I watched with no slight anxiety, knowing well that one can never calculate what turn superstition may take. But he fell quietly into another reverie, which lasted nearly half an hour, and his mood seemed to be soothed by his own reflections. I fancy the truth was, that irritating doubts had suggested themselves as to the truth of his fancied revelations; but that now, by his own arguments, he had satisfied his own mind again, and that his heart felt lighter in consequence. The storm, though very severe, was brief. Before Nat Turner brought his meditations to a close, the thunder grew fainter, and followed, at a long distance, the flash of the lightning. The rain no longer pattered on the thatch; and the negro, looking up, said, though in what connection, I could not discover,--
"Was not the moon very red when she rose to-night?"
"She was red enough last night," answered aunt Jenny, "and I dare she was redder to-night. But I did not look at she, Nat. She was as red as blood last night 'bout this time."
"Ay, ay!" replied the man in a satisfied tone. Then, after a few minutes' silence, he added--"It has done raining, I think, and I will keep my word." He opened the door of the hut and looked out, and we could see gleams of the moon's light flitting over the Swamp as she struggled with the parting clouds. After gazing forth, for a minute or two, he returned, and approached the side of the table, saying,--
"I want you to give me some gunpowder, Sir Richard Conway. Mine is almost out."
"Not if it were to save my life, and all that is most dear to me," I answered. "Not one grain. I have given you food and shelter, but I will not give you the means to injure others."
"So be it," he replied, quietly. "God, mayhap, will give what you refuse." And calmly throwing the damp powder out of the pans of his guns, which had nothing but flint-locks, he primed the weapons again, and made his two companions bring their guns to him to undergo the same process. He then shook the flask at his ear, saying.--
"One more charge a-piece, and before that is out, we must find more. Now, boys, leave the cabin." They seemed to obey his lightest word; and when they were gone, he turned to me, saying--"I do not thank you, for I have as much right here as you have, as much right possibly to the food. But I will keep my word with you--I will keep my vow and more. You may sleep in quiet and peace. I shall be near, and no one shall molest you. Goodnight! We may meet again, when I shall not ask you for anything, or you refuse me." And he left the cabin, drawing to the door after him.
"Now, dearest Bessy," I said, as soon as the man was gone, "you had better go into the other room and lie down to rest. Take Jenny with you, and I will remain here. That man will keep his word with us, depend upon it, and we shall see no more of them. But, as a precaution, I will push this table against the door, so that no one can take us by surprise."
"But you want sleep yourself, Richard," she said.
"I will get some in this corner, where it is dry," I answered. And, after some persuasion, she left me. Did I sleep? Oh, no. Not only the necessity of watching to guard against any intrusion kept me awake, but I had pleasant--nay, joyful--thoughts to dwell upon. I had discovered a secret, at least I thought so, upon which all my future happiness depended; and the happy reveries which followed might well occupy the two or three hours which remained of night. At the end of that time I could perceive a faint greyish light, glimmering through the chinks of the rude shutters; and I thought I might as well reconnoitre the ground without. I did not feel sure that the negroes had quitted the neighbourhood; and though I was inclined to believe that, after what had passed, they would offer us no violence, even if we encountered them; yet there is so much uncertainty and even treachery in the character of all barbarous people that ever I have seen, that I did not like to risk taking Bessy from the shelter of the hut till I was sure the man had gone. Partly removing the shutter, so as to leave perhaps half a hand's breadth for sight, I gazed out upon the wild and desolate scene presented by the Swamp, which looked more wild and desolate than ever, in that dull and unconfirmed light. All was still and quiet; and no moving object met my eye for a moment or two, till I saw the grass agitated slightly, not a couple of steps from the front of the hut. An instant after, a huge rattlesnake dragged himself sluggishly out of the long, dry grass, and crawled lazily towards a little knoll where the light fell most strongly. He seemed as if he were going out to take his morning's walk before his human enemies came abroad. The next instant I beheld one of those beautiful creatures called the king-snake, not half the size of the other, dash out in his checkered coat of jet-black and ivory-white, and dart at the great sluggish reptile. A desperate fight ensued. They coiled one with the other; they bit, they struck at each other with their heads; and I could hardly imagine that the great rattlesnake could not easily destroy his little antagonist. But I was mistaken. At the end of three minutes, the rattlesnake lay writhing on the ground in the agonies of death, and the king-snake, apparently uninjured, glided round and round several times, evidently calculating whether there was any possibility of swallowing him. That was impossible, however, from the relative size of the two creatures; and, contented with his victory, the brilliant little conqueror glided away.
"How happy it would be," I thought, "if, in the world of human life, the reptiles thus destroyed each other--ay, and so they do sometimes." I knew not how soon I should see my fancy verified. While I was thus pondering, I thought I heard a faint and distant sound; but it seemed to me as if, mingled in the noise, were tones of the human voice, and the footfalls of several horses. Before the hut, as I have said, and hiding it, but only partially hiding it, as I found afterwards, from one of the paths across the Swamp, was a clump of bushes, with a tall pyramidal cedar or two rising up in the midst. I dare say, in the confusion of objects, the trees, the bushes, the green and yellow leaves, the fallen trunks, cast in every wild variety of attitude; the plashy ground, and here and there a higher piece of sandy bank with gray and yellow surfaces, thousands of people might pass along that way without a suspicion that any cabin was near. Still it was not fully concealed; and afterwards, when I passed along that very path, knowing where it lay, I could clearly distinguish the lines of the little gable with its thatch. I listened eagerly, and the sounds grew more and more distinct--horses' feet beating hard and fast, and people talking. A minute after I could discern the party through the branches--three white men on horseback, and a stout young negro. They were bidden again; but in another moment I saw them more distinctly, and I recognized Robert Thornton and his father. The other white man's appearance was somewhat familiar to me, but I could not remember where I had seen him before. It was that of the man, Matthew Leary, who had accompanied Robert Thornton when first I encountered him, and whom Billy Byles had described "as a man who would sell his own father, if he could find any man to buy him." They passed on behind the clump of bushes, right in front; and, thinking them gone, I was turning to wake Bessy, in order that we might find the horses, which I could perceive nowhere in the neighbourhood, and then proceed across the Swamp as fast as possible. Suddenly, however, I was stopped by the sound of voices again quite near. I put my eye to the chink, which I had nearly closed; and, somewhat to my consternation, beheld the whole party before the hut.
"Why, I told you so!" cried old Mr. Thornton. "It is a cabin by ----. Who the devil built it here, I wonder?"
"Well, come along, come along, father!" cried Robert Thornton, in an impatient and even angry tone; "if you dawdle on in this way, we shall miss our mark entirely. You can come back and see all about this when we have got her off. I tell you, if they catch hold of her, and bring her back, we are ruined." He muttered something about an old fool; and his tender father called somebody a d--d jackanapes. But the old man seemed habitually under the control of his worthy son, and he rode on in the end, though apparently very unwillingly. As they passed onward, a negro drew partly out from amongst the bushes, with a gun in his hand, which he raised for a moment to his shoulder, but then let it drop again, as if he doubted his distance or his aim. The next moment he glided back quietly into the bushes, and disappeared entirely. I continued to watch for a minute or two; and once I thought I saw a dark face appear as if gazing out in the direction which Mr. Thornton's party had taken; but it was seen only for an instant, and I turned to think what had best be done. The question became, what was the greatest risk? Mr. Thornton, I judged, was very likely to return as soon as he found that Bessy was liberated; but, whatever violence he might venture to indulge in towards the comparatively unprotected negroes, I felt assured that he would hesitate a good deal before he would enter into a struggle which he knew must be carried to extremity with white people. On the other hand, Nat Turner and his companions had bound themselves by no very extensive engagement. They had promised us security during that night; but they might well look upon the bond as extending no further; and, moreover, the great moral power of responsibility was taken from them. They had dared and incurred the utmost penalty that human laws could pronounce; no mercy shown towards us could atone for their past inconceivable guilt; no fresh murder, no fresh barbarity could add one iota to the punishment which they were certain of receiving in this world. If they were not watching for our coming forth, why did they remain hiding there in the bushes just opposite the hut? I could not but suspect, also, that, hampered as I had left them, the horses could not have got out of sight without having been removed. Added to these thoughts came the considerations, that if we went out from the hut we could be attacked on any side, unaided by any or either party; but that as long as we remained within it, I could defend the door with very little difficulty against a more numerous force than I had yet seen; and, in addition, I thought that it was more than probable the sheriff, when he found, on returning to his own house, that neither I nor Bessy had returned, would scour the country along the state-line, and, perhaps, even pass it in search of us. Bessy still slept soundly, to all appearance; and at length, after much hesitation, I determined not to rouse her. I employed, the time in sawing out, with the old saw which lay in the corner, several stout pins and bolts to fasten the door. For this purpose I took part of the table, and in a short time I made the entrance secure. The shutters of the windows ran in grooves, and the woodwork, both of them and of the door, was almost an inch and a half thick; which, though penetrable by a musket-ball, was sufficient to deaden the shot greatly. There were no apertures at the back of the house: the square aperture which served for a window, commanded the only approach; and, satisfied that my little castle was fortified as far as possible, I waited, watching to see if the negroes would quit the covert, though I had some apprehension that they might make their exit on the opposite side. I had hardly resumed my post at the window a minute, when Bessy crept up to my side. The noise of the axe and the saw had awakened her; and I had to tell her all that had occurred, and to go over with her all the reasonings which induced me to remain where we were. She seemed to have an unquestioning faith in my decisions; and while I tightly fastened up the window in the other room where she had been sleeping, she kept watch in the first room, never moving from the spot where I had placed her.
"Nothing has moved," she said, as I rejoined her; "not a twig has quivered, not a rain-drop has fallen from a leaf."
"Then probably the men remain there still," I answered; "for I suspect they have horses with them, and the batch of bushes is too narrow for any large body to move out unperceived."
"I do not think," observed Bessy, after meditating for a moment or two, "that there is any fear of violence from Mr. Thornton or his party. Robert is a coward, I am sure. He may bolster himself up to some degree of determination when he is forced to it by fear of the world; and he may do terrible and cruel acts where poor negroes or women are concerned. But he is always more or less cowed, as I have seen, when he is opposed to a free man, and more especially to a gentleman. He does not seem to know how to act; and, in his hesitation, he gets alarmed."
"I agree with you," I replied; "for although in the unfortunate affair between himself and me he did not actually show want of nerve, I could plainly perceive he would a great deal rather have avoided fighting, had it been possible. But see! there is something moving in the bushes." It certainly was so, and the movement was towards the side at which we were standing, but nobody issued forth; and after waiting for a few minutes more, sharing in my watch, Bessy left me to call old Jenny, who had slept uninterruptedly through all that had taken place. The good old cook set to work at once to light a fire again; and I did not think it worth while to prevent her, for the negroes already knew that we were there; and if Mr. Thornton came at all, it would be to search the place, so that the treacherous signal of the smoke could do us no harm. Indeed, in the present instance, it did us much good. Our breakfast was destined to be very scanty. Bread, there was very little. The fish was all consumed; and some eggs, which aunt Jenny roasted in the ashes, were all that remained of the more solid fare. Worst of all, we had no water; and I perceived, with no light apprehension, that if our enemies could not take us by storm, they might soon starve us out by a blockade. We took it by turns to watch and to eat, making old Jenny breakfast first; but she had not assumed her post at the window for three minutes, when she exclaimed,--
"Here dey comin', mas'r--here dey comin'!" Starting up, I ran to her side. I instantly saw the party, and distinguished who they were. Mr. William Thornton and his son had visited the old place, as they called it; found that I had taken Miss Davenport away, fixed at once upon the cabin they had seen in the wood, and pursued us thither. They had dismounted at some little distance, had given the horses to the negro-boy, and were approaching towards the hut on foot, when I saw them. I placed on the table the powder and the slugs, and the two pistols ready loaded.
"Bessy," I said, "can you load rapidly, as soon as I have fired, in case of need?"
"Yes, yes," she answered, "I have seen it done often. I am sure I can do it."
"Then you stand between me and the table, Jenny," I said, "and hand the weapons to and fro. As soon as I have fired, if I should have occasion to fire, give me another weapon. One man here," I added, with a smile to encourage them, "is equal to five or six without." I then pushed back the shutter a little more, leaned the muzzle of the gun upon the sill, and looked out, careless of further concealment. Mr. Thornton's party, that is to say, the three white men, had stopped at the distance of about one hundred and fifty yards from the cabin, apparently to consult. But a moment after they turned to march forward again, and their eyes instantly fell upon me at the window.
I remained perfectly still and silent at the window of the hut, with my eyes steadily fixed upon the other party, believing that some embarrassment would be felt by all of them in regard to their next step, if I gave them no excuse for violence. I have often remarked that the most daring and unscrupulous men prefer provoking a quarrel step by step, to plunging into a conflict at once. I was not mistaken in this instance. Mr. Thornton and his son both stopped again when they saw me, and their consultation was renewed. They soon settled their plan, however, and did the best thing they could to attain their object, and throw the onus upon me. Without speaking one word, they advanced in a body towards the door of the cabin, and had come within twelve or fourteen paces of it, when, finding that action was absolutely necessary, I exclaimed,--
"Stand back, gentlemen. Do not advance any further."
"And why should we stand back, Sir Richard?" asked Robert Thornton, in a wonderfully calm tone.
"Simply, because if you advance a step further, I will shoot you," I replied with equal coolness.
"Upon what pretence, sir?" asked the elder Mr. Thornton, holding his son back. "We know that you are rather fond of shooting; but you generally contrive some excuse for it. Do you remember, sir, that you are in a civilized country? that the cabin in which you are is my property? and that I simply require to enter what I may call my own house?"
"It is not yours, ole tief," cried Jenny from behind. "It's not on your land, nor of your building."
"Sir," I replied, "I am quite aware of what I am about. The cabin may be yours, or may not, for aught I know; but of this I am assured, namely, that you and your son, and that worthy with the red hair, are now in the prosecution of an unlawful enterprise--"
"To wit?" said Robert Thornton, with a sneer.
"To wit, then," I rejoined, "the abduction of a witness to a homicide committed by you yesterday morning, for the purpose of screening yourselves from punishment in due course of law. Your consultations were overheard; your motives are all known; and the execution of your plan in part susceptible of proof. You now come here with superior force to take that witness from Virginian soil and my protection. Consequently, I feel myself justified in shooting you down one by one; and I will do it if you advance one step further in execution of your designs. You know me, Mr. Robert Thornton!"
"But, sir, we do not entertain any such designs," cried old Mr. Thornton, his face growing redder than before, though it was rubicund enough at all times.
"I judge of your present motives and intentions by your past conduct, sir," I answered; "by your conduct yesterday, and the motives for that conduct expressed in the hearing of a competent witness. Therefore--stand back, I say!" The latter words were uttered in a louder tone than the rest; and, as I spoke, I raised the gun to my shoulder; for the Irishman, seemingly tired of the discussion, had taken a step forward. Old Mr. Thornton pulled him hastily back, not liking, I suppose, to bring a shot into their party, the especial direction of which he did not feel sure of.
"This is too bad!" he cried. "By ---- this is too bad!" And he and his son entered into a low conference again. It was suddenly broken off, however, almost as soon as it had commenced, by some sounds which I did not hear.
"Run round those bushes, Mat," cried Robert Thornton to the Irishman, "and see what horses those are coming up. Don't let them see you--don't let them see you." The other obeyed, hurrying round the clump in which the negroes were concealed; and father and son were soon deep in a whispered and hasty consultation, with their faces still towards the hut, and their backs towards the bushes. My eyes continued fixed upon them for a moment or two; but then some sound--I know not what--made me raise them. The shrubs which lay behind them, at not twenty yards' distance, were agitated as if by some large body passing amongst the branches; and the next instant, no less than four negroes drew out from the bushes with a stealthy, quiet step. The two first had each a gun raised to the shoulder, and pointed towards Mr. Thornton and his son, as if the men sought to approach nearer to their victims, but were prepared to fire as soon as they saw the slightest movement. The other two negroes were also armed; but they were at a somewhat greater distance, leading two or three horses through a gap amongst the brakes, where the beasts' feet would not make so much noise. Though both father and son well deserved whatever fate they might meet, I could not bear to see two human beings shot down like wild brutes; and, by impulse, rather than anything else, I shouted,--
"Take care! take care!" And both started and turned round. At their very first motion there was a flash and a report; and Robert Thornton fell forward on his face. His father staggered; and then ran towards his horses, seemingly to shelter himself behind them; but the young negro who was holding them, apparently terrified at what had occurred, cast the reins loose, and ran away as fast as he could go. In the meantime, Nat Turner, who was standing in front of the shrubs, followed the flying man with his second barrel as deliberately as a sportsman follows a bird on the wing. Before he got near any of the horses, the trigger was drawn, and, with a wild cry of pain, the old man fell upon his knees, and then sank gradually down. At the same moment Matthew Leary came running round, with evident fear in his face, exclaiming,--
"It's the sheriff! it's the sheriff, with a large party." The moment he saw his two masters on the ground, he stopped short, like one thunder-struck, without uttering a word, and glanced his eye towards the cabin; but a shot from one of the negroes, who were leading up the horses, knocked his hat off, and soon showed him whence the murderous volley had come.
"Bring them up quick! bring them up quick!" cried Nat Turner, waving to the other men. He had evidently heard the announcement of the sheriff's approach, and he and two of his companions were mounted in a few seconds. The fourth seemed to have no horse, but ran to catch one of those which had brought Mr. Thornton's party thither. This caused a little delay; and before they could escape, the sheriff's party, consisting of nine or ten persons, appeared, some on one side of the little copse, and some on the other.
"Now," I thought, "these blood-thirsty fellows are caught at last." But I was, in some degree, mistaken; and I could not help admiring the presence of mind and ability displayed by Nat Turner in that perilous moment. The approaching party, attracted by the report of the guns, had come up at speed, and in some dismay; nor were they, it would seem, at all prepared to meet with any of the revolted negroes there. In an instant, Nat Turner seemed to perceive where they were weakest and most scattered, as well as where he could soonest reach the difficult ground of the Swamp; and, clubbing his gun, he dashed at that point, calling to the others to follow. He had to pass Matthew Leary as he went; and the man attempted to catch his rein; but one blow from the stock of the gun brought the Irishman to the ground; and, had his skull been originally constructed in any other country than Ireland or Africa, he never would have risen again. It did not interrupt the negro for a moment in his course. A tall farmer tried to stop him likewise, but he was struck from his horse in a moment. The other negroes followed through the gap he had made in the line of the white men, and the three first burst clear through. The fourth was captured on the spot.
"Follow, follow quick!" cried the sheriff. "Take them, alive or dead." But Nat Turner and his companions galloped on, and scattered as soon as they got into more open ground. Pistol shots were fired after them; but on they went, plunging through the morasses, leaping the fallen trees, and taking advantage of every obstruction in the ground to distance their pursuers. One even had the hardihood to turn and fire upon a man who was chasing him; for one of the sheriff's party returned shortly afterwards with a pretty severe wound in his shoulder. In the meantime, I had unfastened the door of the cabin, and joined the sheriff and the four or five gentlemen who remained with him: Bessy, and old Aunt Jenny, also, came to the door, and one of those confused scenes of inquiry and explanation took place, which it is hardly possible to describe.
"Why, how is this?" inquired the sheriff, in his dry, laconic way, as soon as he saw us. "All sorts of birds gathered together! Miss Davenport, I am glad to see you safe at last. Your uncle Henry, with Billy Byles, has gone on to seek you across the line; but here is matter we must look to at once. Here, you fellow, you Leary----"
"Don't call me a fellow, sir," said Leary, in an insolent tone. "I am a free American citizen, and as good as you any day." The sheriff's lip curled with a contemptuous smile.
"I should not like to be as bad as you, Master Leary," he said, "for I know I should have the penitentiary very often in my thoughts; but is your master here, dead or living?"
"I know nothing about him, and he's no master of mine," answered Leary; "but I'll just turn him over and see." In the meantime, the sheriff and most of the other gentlemen had dismounted, and we all surrounded the body of Robert Thornton, who lay perfectly still with his face on the ground. Mathew Leary turned him over; and we then saw a large pool of blood which had flowed from a wound in his chest, through which the bullet had passed out. It was on the left side, and there could be little doubt the shot had gone right through his heart. His career of wickedness was over. "His account was closed," as a quaint old writer has it; "every item transferred from the day-book to the ledger; the balance struck, and the whole to be settled at the great day of reckoning." This is one of those cases of retributive justice which come from time to time to convince all who are convinceable of the moral government of God; while the numerous exceptions form a strong argument--used potently by Voltaire--in favour of the immortality of the soul, the punishment of vice, and reward of virtue hereafter on that great day when every man shall be judged according to his doings. Robert Thornton and his father had set out in life well-to-do in worldly circumstances: had deliberately cast from them the restraints of justice and honour, of religious and of moral principle; had gone on trusting to subtlety and fraud, in despite of repeated failures and reiterated warnings; had hardened themselves against the very reproofs of the results of their own actions, till they had deprived themselves of character and honour, of means and resources--till the very necessity of their condition drove them from bad to worse, while the hedged-in way of disgrace and ruin grew narrower and more inevitable at every step they took. And, at last, one of the two had fallen in a disgraceful scheme to cover one outrage by another.
"Here, leave him there," said the sheriff, after we had gazed a moment upon the pale and inanimate features. "Nothing can be done for him. Who is the other lying out there?"
"That is Mr. William Thornton," answered Matthew Leary; "but what's become of the black boy, I can't tell; unless he's gone off with the other niggers. The old man's as dead as a door nail, I'll bet; for his blood was so near the skin, that the least hole would let it all run out."
"Hold your tongue, sir," said the sheriff; "this is no time for joking."
"Devil a bit am I joking," answered Mat Leary, "as the priest said to us the other day, when he told us we were all going to hell, and no mistake. I think he was right too." The sheriff moved sternly away, and, with the rest of the party, approached the spot where Mr. William Thornton lay. The wounded man was lying on his side as he had slipped down, rather than fallen; and, when his face was visible, it was clear that, though badly hurt, he was neither dead nor in a dying condition. He said not a word to any one, though he must have known many of those present; but he gazed silently in our faces, with a clear, undimmed eye, as I have often seen a wounded bird. The first shot which had been fired at him seemed to have grazed his shoulder; but the second had inflicted a much more serious wound in his hip, and he was bleeding profusely.
"We had better carry you to the cabin, and try to staunch the blood," said the sheriff, bending down over him; "we can remove you to your own house afterwards." The old man made no answer; and some of the party took him up as gently as they could, and carried him between them to the hut, at the door of which still stood Bessy, with a very pale face. As they went, they could not help passing the body of Robert Thornton, and inadvertently took that side towards which the old man's eyes were turned; but he gazed composedly at the corpse, without a word or an inquiry; and, indeed, I could not perceive the slightest change of countenance. If human attachments had been lost either in the selfishness of pain or the apathy of age, human resentments were not extinguished. They laid him on the table, and I whispered a few words to Bessy, who had shown so much skill in stopping the bleeding of my arm. She gave a slight shudder, but answered at once.
"Certainly, Richard--I forgot--I did not think of it; but I have been terrified and shocked. I will try directly;" and approaching the table, she said, "Let me try, gentlemen; I have had to do this before. Mr. Thornton, I think I can soon staunch the blood."' The old man suddenly raised himself with a start upon his elbow, exclaiming, with the look of a demon,--
"Get hence, girl! You have been the ruin of me and mine. We have never seen you, spoken to you, thought of you, I do believe, without some evil happening to us. Touch me not! Your very name has been a plague to us."
"And well it might, Billy Thornton," said a bluff old gentleman, who had come with the sheriff, "for you would never let any who bore it alone. You began all the mischief, and your son continued it. Who egged on the quarrel between poor Davenport, her father, and Richard Conway, when Conway wanted no quarrel at all? Who stopped the letter of explanation, and got Davenport killed, and was, more or less, the cause of Conway being drowned?"
"Hush! hush!" said the sheriff. "This is no time or place for recriminations. We must do the best we can to stop the bleeding ourselves, as he refuses the kind aid of hands that would do it better. Sir Richard, you had better take Miss Bessy away out of the cabin, and get her some water; she looks faint. Send off one of the men to the Thornton old place, and bid them bring down a mattress and a cart. You had better let Mr. Henry Thornton and Billy Byles know you are here, and then ride away with them to my house; it is the nearest, and, though but an old bachelor's residence, you will find a dear old maid there--my sister--who will make it comfortable to you, and cheer this young lady. Come, Miss Bessy, do not look so sad. All will go well, yet; and we who stand here living this day, without having lost our nearest and dearest, have much to thank God for."
"We have, indeed!" said Bessy; "and from my heart I do thank God." I led her quietly out, and turning away from the spot where several of the party were still gathered round the dead body of Robert Thornton, I seated her on a little rise at the other end of the cottage, and then proceeded to express the sheriff's wishes to some people before the hut. I hardly liked to leave her, even for a moment, for I had a sort of superstitious feeling upon me, after all that had occurred, that if I lost sight of her again I should never behold her more. Two men on horseback set out at once for the old place, as it was called, and, returning to Bessy's side, I strove to cheer her, and to lead her mind away from all the terrible and distressing events which had been crowded into so marvellously short a space of time. Indeed it was extraordinary how three days, in the midst of one year, could have crowded into themselves in the midst of a peaceful and happy country so many and terrible facts as occurred during the three principal days of the Southampton massacre. We were allowed but very little time for anything like tranquil conversation, however. First, came back one of the men who had gone in pursuit of Nat Turner and his companions, and then another. Dismounting from his horse, the first sauntered up to us, interrupting my conversation with Bessy, by saying,--
"There's no use trying to catch him. That man has got the devil in him, I do believe, and has got away into places where I wouldn't take my horse Maggie, for all the niggers that ever run. Isn't she a pretty creature? Have you got any horses like that in England? I guess not." The next who came up was the poor fellow who got hurt in the pursuit, and he gave me and Bessy occupation for some time in bandaging his wound, though it did not seem a very severe one. This operation was not quite over, when the sheriff came out of the cabin and joined us. He was looking stern, and somewhat irritated.
"That old man," he said, "seems to have been taken possession of by Satan. He abuses everybody and everything, and will make his wound prove mortal, if he doesn't mind, by his own bitter irritability. What changes circumstances do produce in men! I remember him, not many years ago, one of the most jovial and good-humoured sort of persons I ever saw--always cunning and ready to take advantage, it is true, but still he did it all so good-humouredly, that one was inclined to laugh rather than be angry."
"Don't you think," I asked, "that circumstances may have brought out the real character of the man, which cunning had concealed? We have a saying that the devil is good-humoured when he is pleased. I have seen more than once a man who carried on very artful schemes under an appearance, of careless jollity, turn out fierce, malicious, and vindictive, when those schemes were finally frustrated."
"Perhaps you are right," answered the sheriff. "I have heard that he would occasionally do a malevolent thing in former years. But here comes our friend Henry Thornton, I think--this man's very opposite in every respect. That is his head approaching at such a rate over the bushes of the swamp, isn't it? Well, my dear young lady, how do you feel now?"
"Somewhat calmer," answered Bessy, quietly; "but I shall not be better, my good friend, till I have had two good things."
"And what are those?" asked the sheriff.
"A good sleep and a good cry," answered Bessy. "I have had the current of so many tears choked up during the last three days, that I feel they must flow over soon."
"Well," answered the sheriff, with a good-humoured sort of smile, "a good sleep and a safe one, I trust, you will soon have; but as to a good cry, I can't help thinking a good mint julep would be better. I wish to Heaven I had one to give you, or to drink myself, either, for I am pretty weary and very thirsty."