Kitabı oku: «Marcy, the Refugee», sayfa 16
CHAPTER XVII.
MARCY TAKES TO THE SWAMP
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," said Captain 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."
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 the Hattie.
"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:
"Are the Home Guards out to-night?"
"Oh, yes; they're out, and came to my mother's house, or I shouldn't be here now. But they didn't set anything on fire so far as I know."
"Then whose work is that? There's something burning off that way."
"It is the work of Marcy, the Refugee. That's I. After persecuting me for months in every way he could think of, Beardsley has driven me from home at last, and I set fire to his schooner to pay him for it."
"I am a refugee myself," replied Mr. Webster. "And there's my hand, which says that I will stand your friend as long as you need one. If the Home Guards had been organized a few weeks sooner Aleck would not have left us old men and boys to fight our battles alone. But he had an idea that the presence of the Yankees on the coast would serve as a protection to us; and there's where he was wrong. If we don't do something at once, they will follow us into the swamp and kill or capture the last one of us. That fight in Hampton Roads put life and energy into them."
"I don't see why it should. They got the worst of it."
"Are you sure?" exclaimed Mr. Webster. "I heard that we got the worst of it; that some of our best ships were sunk or burned."
"Will it be quite safe for us to stop here long enough to have a snack?" said Marcy. "Then, Julius, you may hand out that brown basket; the one with the napkin spread over the top. I'm hungry, and I suppose you are, Mr. Webster, for you have walked from your home since Hawkins saw you this afternoon. By the way, where is Hawkins now?"
"He will hang around the settlement as long as he can, and take to the woods only when he sees that preparations are being made to compel him to go back to the army. Didn't you see him with the Home Guards to-night?"
Marcy replied that he did not see anybody, for he ran before the Home Guards came into the house. If Hawkins was with them, as he had promised to be, Marcy was satisfied that no indignity had been offered to his mother.
By this time Julius had made the boat fast to a tree on the bank and come ashore with the lunch; and while Marcy and his new friend were eating the cold bread and meat he passed over to them, the former gave a true history of that battle in Hampton Roads as he learned it from the papers Captain Barrows left with him. Then he gave a short account of his experience and dealings with Captain Beardsley, so that the man might know just how much reason he had to stand in fear of him, and finally he inquired how many men there were in Mr. Webster's party, and where and how they lived. He learned that there was an even score of them now, seven of their number (one of whom was Ben Hawkins) being paroled prisoners, who declared that they would fight rather than go back to the army. It had been the habit of the original members of the band to go into the woods whenever they desired to talk about things that they didn't want their rebel neighbors to know; but ever since they heard of the Home Guards, whose avowed object it was to send all the Union men they could find to Williamston Jail, they had become refugees in earnest, some of them having taken up their permanent abode in the camp. Those who had families to look out for now and then visited their homes during the daytime; but judging by the way things looked now, that small privilege would soon be denied them.
"And when it comes so that we can't see our folks for fear of being shot, or marched off to jail, we'll take to visiting them in the nighttime," said Mr. Webster, in concluding his story. "And if we have to do that, we'll light fires to show us the way back to camp."
Having disposed of a good share of the contents of the brown basket, Mr. Webster declared that it was time for them to start for the camp, which was located in one of Captain Beardsley's wood lots, and not more than five miles away. He said that, as long as Captain Beardsley continued to trouble him and his friends, they would sleep on his grounds, warm themselves and cook their meals over fires built with wood that was cut from his trees, steal his corn meal and bacon, and shoot his hogs as often as they came within range of the camp. Mr. Webster's canoe was close by, and when he stepped into it he fastened the painter of Marcy's boat to a cleat in the stern, so that the two little crafts would not become separated in the darkness. It might require some talking to bring them together again, and they did not want to do much of that until they were safe in camp. As they shoved off from the bank they took a last look at that bright spot on the clouds, which had been growing brighter and larger every moment since it appeared, bearing unmistakable testimony to the destructive work that was going on beneath it. If the fire had attracted the attention of the Home Guards (and Marcy did not see how it could be otherwise), they did not reach the creek in time to save the schooner. Marcy wondered what Captain Beardsley's feelings were about that time.
