Kitabı oku: «Marcy, the Refugee», sayfa 6

CHAPTER VII.
MARCY SPEAKS HIS MIND

"Julius also knew that those Union men – I don't know any other name to give to those who turned the tables on the robbers – were out there in the garden, and he told them to hurry up," continued Marcy. "Now, where were you at the time?"

"Marse Marcy," said Morris, recovering himself with an effort, "you had best sell that niggah, kase if you don't Ise bound to kill him."

"You will be careful not to touch him," said Mrs. Gray. "It is not your place to discipline any one."

"But, missus, you don't know that niggah," began Morris.

"We know that he was brave enough to send those men to our rescue, while you were too badly frightened to do anything to help us," said Marcy.

"I couldn't be two places," protested Morris. "I was in the stable looking out for the hosses. There's whar I belong."

"Did you see them when they took their prisoners away? And was that poor fellow who was knocked down by the chandelier very badly injured?" inquired Mrs. Gray.

"Pore fellow!" repeated the coachman. "No, he wasn't bad hurt. They jest chuck him in the hoss trough and he come back to his right mind mighty quick."

"I hope they did not abuse him?"

"No, missus; dey didn't 'buse him at all. They jest say 'Come along here! We fix you.' And that's all they done."

"And you did not see what became of him and the others?"

Morris replied that he watched the rescuers and their prisoners from the stable door until they disappeared in the darkness, and that was all he knew about them. And we may add that that was all any one in that house ever knew about them. Although Marcy Gray afterward became acquainted with all the men who had taken an active part in this night's work, and daily mingled with them, he never learned what they did with their captives. Indeed he never inquired, for he was afraid that he might hear something unpleasant if he did.

"If you have told all you have on your mind you can go back to bed," said Marcy, after a little pause.

"That's all," answered Morris. "I wish you a very good evening, sar – you and the missus." And he passed into the hall, closing the door behind him. Marcy waited until he heard the outer door shut, and then he walked over and took a look at the fallen chandelier.

"Wouldn't Beardsley be hopping if he knew that one of his own negroes had upset his plans?" said he. "I really believe he would be the death of that girl Nancy. Julius is wide awake, but I do wish he would not keep so much to himself, and that I could place more dependence on what he says."

"But you do not mean to put him to work?" said his mother.

"Oh, no; and the rascal knows it. He would not stay in the field two minutes without some one to watch him, and he is of use about the house. Now, go and get some sleep, mother, and I will see that things are secure."

Once more Marcy made the rounds of the building, and this time he did not find things just as they ought to be. He found how the robbers had effected an entrance. They had cut a hole through the side door so that they could reach in and turn the key in the lock and draw back the bolt. Probably Morris was hiding in the stable when they did it, too badly frightened to give the alarm; but the robbers would not have done their work entirely undisturbed if Bose had not been dead on his mat around the corner.

"If Morris and Julius knew this thing was going to happen, I do not understand why they did not warn us," said Mrs. Gray, when Marcy came back to the sitting-room.

"Because they are darkies, and darkies never do what they ought," answered Marcy. "They did not want us to be frightened until the time came, and so they stayed awake and watched while we slept. Good-night."

When Marcy went up to his room he took his pillows from the floor, and put them on the bed where they belonged. He pushed his revolvers under them, smiling grimly when he thought of the little use they had been to him when their services were really needed, turned down the lamp, and was about to throw himself upon his couch, without removing his clothes, when he heard something that had startled him once before – the noise made by a pebble striking against his window. That was the way in which Sailor Jack attracted his attention on the night he came up from Newbern, after piloting that Northern blockade runner safely into port; but who could this person be? The dread of danger, that was uppermost in his mind when he stepped to the window and opened it, gave way to indignation when he looked out and saw the boy Julius standing on the ground below.

"Look here, you imp of darkness," he exclaimed.

"Hursh, honey, hursh!" said Julius, in an excited whisper. "Go fru de hall, and look out de oder side."

"What's out there?" asked Marcy, in the same low whisper.

"Nuffin. But you go and look."

Marcy put down the window and went, knowing that it would be a waste of time to question such a fellow as Julius. When he stepped into the hall he was alarmed to see that it was lighted up so brightly by a glare which came through the wide, high window at the other end that he could distinguish the figures on the wall-paper. He reached the window in two jumps, stood there about two seconds looking toward two different points of the compass, and then faced about, and ran down the stairs.

"Mother, mother!" he exclaimed, as he rapped on her bedroom door. "Get up and tell me what to do. Here's the mischief to pay. Beardsley's house is in flames."

"O Marcy!" was all Mrs. Gray could say in reply.

"Yes. And there's a little blaze just beginning to show above the trees in the direction of Colonel Shelby's," continued Marcy.

"This is a dreadful state of affairs," said his mother.

"I believe you; but Aleck Webster told the truth, and those Union men are bricks. Jack will be tickled to death when he hears of it."

"I hope he isn't heathen enough to rejoice over any one's misfortune.

But how can I tell you what to do? What do you want to do?"

"I want to know if you will be afraid to remain here with the girls while I run over there," answered Marcy.

"Certainly not. Take every one on the place, and save what you can. But, Marcy, you cannot do any work with only one hand."

"No matter. I can show my good will. I don't expect to have a chance to save anything. The house has been burning so long that the roof is about ready to tumble in. Good-by."

Marcy buttoned his coat to keep it from falling off as he ran, caught his cap from the rack as he hurried through the hall, and opened the front door to find Julius waiting for him at the foot of the steps.

"Wake up everybody!" commanded Marcy. "Tell the girls to go into the house to keep their mistress company, and bring the men over to the fire. Hurry up, now!"

Marcy ran on in the direction of the gate, and, as soon as he was out of sight, Julius whirled around and seated himself on the lower step. He sat there about five minutes, and then rose and sauntered off toward the road.

"What for I want wake up everybody?" said he to himself. "I jes aint going take no men ober to de fire to holp save de cap'n's things, when de cap'n done sick de robbers on us. Luf him take keer on he own things; dat's what I say."

Marcy was right when he told his mother that he would not be in season to assist in saving the captain's property. The roof of the house fell in about the time he reached the road, and when he ran into the yard he could do no more than follow the example of Beardsley's frightened household, and stand by and look on while the fire burned itself out. He caught one glimpse of the captain's grown-up daughter standing beside the few things that had been saved, but she straightway hid herself among the negroes, and gave him no opportunity to speak to her. He looked toward Colonel Shelby's plantation, and saw that his house, too, was so far gone that there was no possible chance of saving it. This was the important thing that Captain Beardsley forgot, and of which we spoke a short time ago. He forgot the band to which Aleck Webster belonged, or perhaps he would have contrived some way to make them believe that the man Kelsey, and not himself, was to blame for the raid that had that night been made upon Mrs. Gray's house.

"Aleck and his friends must have had the strongest kind of evidence, or they never would have done such work as this," thought Marcy, as he turned his steps homeward after satisfying himself that there was nothing he could do at the fire. "I wish I knew what that evidence is, and how all this is going to end. I wish from the bottom of my heart that the fanatics who are responsible for this state of affairs could be in my place for a few days."

"I hope you asked the captain's daughter to come over here," said Mrs.

Gray, when her son entered the room in which she was sitting.

"Well, I didn't," was the reply. "I meant to, but she didn't give me a chance to say a word to her. Let her go and bunk with Mrs. Brown, and then there will be two congenial spirits together."

By this time it was getting well on toward morning, and sleep being quite out of the question, Marcy and his mother sat up and talked until breakfast was announced. The burden of their conversation, and the inquiry which they propounded to each other in various forms, was: What should they say to their neighbors regarding the events of the night? Should they tell the story of the attempted robbery, when questioned about it, or not? There were many living in the settlement who had not been taken into Beardsley's confidence, who did not know that the Union men were banded together for mutual protection, and some of them were Confederate soldiers; and what would these be likely to do if they learned that there was a little civil war in progress among their neighbors? The situation was an embarrassing one, and Marcy and his mother did not know how to manage it.

"I am a-going to trust to luck to help me out," said the boy, who had been gazing steadily into his cup of coffee as if he there hoped to find an answer to the question that had been under discussion for the last two hours. "I don't believe there will be anything done, one way or the other, until the battle that is going to be fought at Roanoke Island is decided."

"Why, Marcy?" said Mrs. Gray, in surprise. "What direct influence can a great battle have on our private affairs?"

"I thought you wouldn't fall in with my notions, but I think I am right," replied Marcy. "If the rebels win, look out for breakers. This part of the State will be overrun with soldiers, who will shoot or drive out every one who is suspected of being friendly to the old flag, and such fellows as Beardsley and Shelby and Allison will be out in full force to hie them on. If the Federals win, as I hope they may, and occupy the Island and Plymouth and other points about here, our stay-at-home rebels will crawl into their holes, and you will not hear a cheep from them."

"But all that is in the future," said Mrs. Gray.

"And what we want to know is how to conduct ourselves to-day," added Marcy. "I know that, and, as I said before. I am going to trust to luck.

I can tell better what to say after I have mingled for a few minutes with the crowd I shall meet at the post-office."

"Do any of the Union men ever go there?" inquired Mrs. Gray.

"I have seen Webster there once or twice, but as to the rest, I cannot say; for I do not know them."

"I shouldn't think they would go there for fear of being arrested."

"Who is there to arrest them?"

"I don't know; but I suppose the postmaster could bring a squad of soldiers from Plymouth, could he not?"

"Yes, but he would have to bring another squad to watch his house and store after the one that made the arrest went away," answered Marcy. "If the Nashville people attempt to manage this thing themselves, I am afraid their town will go up in smoke."

Going to the post-office, on this particular morning, was one of the hardest tasks the boy had ever set for himself. He wished he could hit upon some good excuse for sending Morris in his place, and indeed the old fellow offered to go when he brought up Marcy's horse, adding:

"I'm jubus that they will ask you a heap of questions that you won't want to answer. They won't say nothing to Morris, kase a pore niggah never knows nothing."

"I've got to face them some time, and it might as well be to-day as next week," replied Marcy, slipping into the coachman's hand one of the gold pieces that Julius had given him the night before. "Let Julius entirely alone, and the next time you hear of any plans being laid against us, don't keep us in ignorance. Come to us at once, so that we may know what we have to expect."

"Thank you kindly, sar," said Morris, taking off his hat. "I'll bear that in mind; but you see, Marse Marcy, I didn't want for to pester you and your maw. I was on the watch."

"But you were frightened to death, and that little imp Julius was the one who helped us," thought Marcy, as he swung himself into the saddle, with the coachman's assistance, and rode away. "Well, I was frightened myself, but I couldn't run and hide."

When Marcy came to Beardsley's gate, he thought it would be a neighborly act for him to ride in and ask if there was anything he could do for the captain's daughter; but she was not to be seen. Marcy afterward learned that she had taken up her abode with Mrs. Brown, with whom she intended to remain until her father could come home and make other arrangements for her comfort. There were a few negroes sauntering around in the neighborhood of the smoking ruins, and among them was the girl Nancy, who looked at him now and then with an expression on her face that would have endangered her life if her master could have seen and understood it. The boy was glad to turn about and ride away from the scene, for it was one that had a depressing effect upon him.

"Beardsley brought it upon his own head," was what he told himself over and over again, but without finding any consolation in the thought. "It is bound to make him worse than he was before – it would make me worse if I were in his place – and nobody knows what he will spring on us next."

As Marcy had expected, his arrival at the hitching-rack in front of the post-office was the signal for which Tom Allison, Mark Goodwin, and a few others like them had been waiting. They opened the door and ran across the street in a body, highly excited of course, and all talking at once.

"What happened out your way last night?" was the first question he could understand.

"Fire," was the reply. "Didn't you see it?"

"You're right, I did," said Tom.

"Then why didn't you come out?" inquired Marcy. "I didn't see you or any other white man about there."

"I'll bet you didn't," exclaimed Goodwin. "When two houses owned by prominent men, and standing a mile and a half apart, get on fire almost at the same moment in the dead hour of night – "

"And while their owners are absent from home," chimed in Tom.

"And while their owners are away from home on business," added Mark, "it means something, doesn't it? We stayed pretty close about our hearth-stones, I bet you, for we didn't know how soon our own buildings might get a-going. Where were you when it happened?"

"I was at home, where you were," replied Marcy.

"And wasn't your house set too?"

Marcy said it was not; or if it was he hadn't found it out.

"That's mighty strange," remarked one of the group who had not spoken before.

"What is strange?" demanded Marcy. "Explain yourself."

"Why, if there was a band of marauders about, as every one seems to think," said the boy —

"Well, there was," interrupted Marcy. "They came to our house, and made preparations to hang me up by the neck, when the – "

"Oh, get out!" exclaimed Allison and Goodwin in concert.

Marcy had pushed his hat on the back of his head and squared himself to tell the story of his adventure; but when these words fell upon his ear, he put his hands into his pockets and started for the post-office.

"Hold on," cried Tom, catching at his arm. "Don't go off that way. Tell us all about it."

"I will, if you will ride home with me so that I can prove my story," said Marcy. "When you see the chandelier that was pulled out of its place in the ceiling by the rope – "

"Were you hanging to the rope when it pulled out?" exclaimed the impatient boys.

"No. If I had been I would have a broken head now. One of the robbers put his weight upon the rope to see if it would hold me up, when the thing came down on his head and knocked him senseless."

"Well now, I am beat! Did they go off without getting any money?" inquired Tom, who would not have asked the question if he had been in a calmer mood.

"They certainly did. They never took a cent."

"And they didn't fire your house afterward?"

"Not that we know of. Our house is standing this morning."

"Who were the robbers?"

"That's a conundrum to give up," replied Marcy. "All I know is that they were white men who had made a bungling attempt to disguise themselves as negroes; but they did not put black enough on their hands and faces."

Tom Allison looked at his friend Mark, and when he moved away Mark followed him. As soon as they were beyond ear-shot of the rest of the group, Tom said:

"Let's shake those fellows, and wait for a chance to speak to Marcy alone. What do you think you make of the situation just as it stands?"

"I don't make anything of it," answered Mark. "I can't see through it, and I don't believe Marcy told the truth."

"I do. In the first place he is not given to lying, and besides he asked us to go home with him. He wouldn't have done that if he had been telling us a funny story. I believe Beardsley sent those robbers to Mrs. Gray's house and then took himself off so that he could say he wasn't at home when the robbery was committed, just as Marcy and Jack could say they were not at home when their overseer was abducted."

"There may be something in that," said Mark reflectively. "But the captain made a mighty poor selection when he took men who permitted themselves to be scared away by the breaking down of a chandelier. A brave lot of fellows they were."

"But perhaps that wasn't what frightened them away," said Tom. "How do you account for the burning of Beardsley's house and Shelby's, while Gray's was allowed to stand?"

"I don't account for it. It is quite beyond me."

"You don't think those robbers set the buildings on fire?"

"It isn't likely, when they were in Beardsley's employ. Still they might have done it to revenge themselves for the loss of the money they expected to find in Mrs. Gray's house."

"They might, but I don't believe they did. Have you forgotten what was in the letter Beardsley received while he was in Newbern?"

"By gracious, Tom! You don't think – "

"Yes, I do. They said they would jump on him if he didn't stop persecuting Union people, and they have done it. The men who wrote that letter were the men who burned those houses."

"Tom, you frighten me. I'll tell you what's a fact, old fellow: You and I made a big mistake in calling on that old gossip Mrs. Brown. We didn't get a thing out of her beyond what we knew when we went there, and I'm going to keep clear of that shanty of hers in future. It may be your father's turn next, or mine."

"That is what I am afraid of," said Tom honestly. "And that is the reason I want to hang around and see Marcy alone – to ask if he saw anything of those Union men last night."

Marcy remained in the post-office for nearly half an hour, for he was surrounded by an excited and anxious group there, and plied with the same questions he had been called on to answer outside; but about the time that Allison and his companion were becoming so impatient that they were on the point of going in after him, he came out with his mail in his hand, and, what was a comfort to them, he came alone.

"Are you two going to ride out with me?" said Marcy, when he reached the hitching-rack, where they were waiting for him.

"We may go out some day, but not for proof," replied Tom. "What would be the use, when we know that you told us nothing but the truth? But, Marcy, you don't mean to say that those robbers were frightened from their work by the simple breaking down of the chandelier?"

"Oh, no; they had better reasons than that for letting us alone," replied the boy, who knew that he might as well tell the whole story himself as to leave them to hear it from somebody else. "A moment or so after the chandelier came down on the head of one of the robbers, a party of armed and masked men came into the room and rescued us."

It was right in the point of Tom Allison's tongue to say to Mark, "Didn't I tell you so?" but he caught his breath in time, and tried to look surprised. "Who were they?" he managed to ask.

"Didn't I say they were all masked?" inquired Marcy.

"Well, they said something, didn't they."

"They spoke about half a dozen words."

"And didn't you recognize their voices?"

"I did not. Let Mark put his handkerchief over his mouth and speak to you, and see if you can recognize his voice."

"But haven't you an idea who they were?"

"You know as much about them as I do," answered Marcy; and he knew by the expression of astonishment that came upon Tom's face that he had hit the nail squarely on the head.

"How do you explain the burning of those two houses?" inquired Mark.

"In the same way that I explain the raid that was made upon our house.

The men who were responsible for one were responsible for the other."

"You don't mean to say that the robbers did it!" exclaimed Tom.

"I mean to say that they were the cause of it. If you won't ride with me I shall have to say good-by."

"What do you think now?" asked Tom, as he and Mark stood watching Marcy's filly spatter the mud along the road.

"I hate to say what I think," was Mark's reply. "I'm sorry to say it, but it is a fact that that villain holds every dollar's worth of property in this county between his thumb and finger."

"Well, he shall not hold it there forty-eight hours longer," said Allison savagely.

"How are you going to help it?"

"By writing a note to the commanding officers at Plymouth and Roanoke, and telling them what sort of a fix we are in," replied Tom.

"Don't you do it!" cried Mark. "Don't think of it, for if you do you will see worse times here than you ever dreamed of. If you are not hanged to one of the trees on the common you will be driven out of the country."

Wait a few minutes, and we will tell you whether or not Mark Goodwin had reason to be frightened at Tom's reckless words.