THE SEARCH FOR DINAH.
"By the bye, Vincent," Mrs. Wingfield remarked next morning at
breakfast, "I have parted with Pearson."
"I am glad to hear it, mother. What! did you discover at last that he
was a scamp?"
"Several things that occurred shook my confidence in him, Vincent. The
accounts were not at all satisfactory, and it happened quite
accidentally that when I was talking one day with Mr. Robertson, who, as
you know, is a great speculator in tobacco, I said that I should grow no
more tobacco, as it really fetched nothing. He replied that it would be
a pity to give it up, for so little was now cultivated that the price
was rising, and the Orangery tobacco always fetched top prices. 'I think
the price I paid for your crop this year must at any rate have paid for
the labor--that is to say, paid for the keep of the slaves and something
over.' He then mentioned the price he had given, which was certainly a
good deal higher than I had imagined. I looked at my accounts next
morning, and found that Pearson had only credited me with one-third of
the amount he must have received, so I at once dismissed him. Indeed, I
had been thinking of doing so some little time before, for money is so
scarce and the price of produce so low that I felt I could not afford to
pay as much as I had been giving him."
"I am afraid I have been drawing rather heavily, mother," Vincent put
in.
"I have plenty of money, Vincent. Since your father's death we have had
much less company than before, and I have not spent my income. Besides,
I have a considerable sum invested in house property and other
securities. But I have, of course, since the war began been subscribing
toward the expenses of the war--for the support of hospitals and so on.
I thought at a time like this I ought to keep my expenses down to the
lowest point, and to give the balance of my income to the State."
"How did Jonas take his dismissal, mother?"
"Not very pleasantly," Mrs. Wingfield replied, "especially when I told
him that I had discovered he was robbing me. However, he knew better
than to say much, for he has not been in good odor about here for some
time. After the fighting near here there were reports that he had been
in communication with the Yankees. He spoke to me about it at the time;
but as it was a mere matter of rumor, originating, no doubt, from the
fact that he was a Northern man by birth, I paid no attention to them."
"It is likely enough to be true," Vincent said. "I always distrusted the
vehemence with which he took the Confederate side. How long ago did this
happen?"
"It is about a month since I dismissed him."
"So lately as that! Then I should not be at all surprised if he had some
hand in carrying off Dinah. I know he was in communication with Jackson,
for I once saw them together in the street, and I fancied at the time
that it was through him that Jackson learned that Dinah was here. It is
an additional clew to inquire into, anyhow. Do you know what has become
of him since he left you?"
"No; I have heard nothing at all about him, Vincent, from the day I gave
him a check for his pay in this room. Farrell, who was under him, is now
in charge of the Orangery. He may possibly know something of his
movements."
"I think Farrell is an honest fellow," Vincent said. "He was always
about, doing his work quietly; never bullying or shouting at the hands,
and yet seeing that they did their work properly. I will ride out and
see him at once."
As soon as breakfast was over Vincent started, and found Farrell in the
fields with the hands.
"I am glad to see you back, sir," the man said heartily.
"Thank you, Farrell. I am glad to be back, and I am glad to find you in
Pearson's place. I never liked the fellow, and never trusted him."
"I did not like him myself, sir, though we always got on well enough
together. He knew his work and got as much out of the hands as anyone
could do; but I did not like his way with them. They hated him."
"Have you any idea where he went when he left here?"
"No, sir; he did not come back after he got his dismissal. He sent a man
in a buggy with a note to me, asking me to send all his things over to
Richmond. I expect he was afraid the news might get here as soon as he
did, and that the hands would give him an unpleasant reception, as
indeed I expect they would have done."
"You don't know whether he has any friends anywhere in the Confederacy
to whom he would be likely to go?"
"I don't know about friends, sir; but I know he has told me he was
overseer, or partner, or something of that sort, in a small station down
in the swamps of South Carolina. I should think, from things he has let
drop, that the slaves must have had a bad time of it. I rather fancy he
made the place too hot for him, and had to leave; but that was only my
impression."
"In that case he may possibly have made his way back there," Vincent
said. "I have particular reasons for wishing to find out. You don't know
anything about the name of the place?" The man shook his head.
"He never mentioned the name in my hearing."
"Well, I must try to find out; but I don't quite see how to set about
it," Vincent said. "By the way, do you know where his clothes were sent
to?"
"Yes; the man said that he was to take them to Harker's Hotel. It's a
second-rate hotel not far from the railway station."
"Thank you; that will help me. I know the house. It was formerly used by
Northern drummers and people of that sort."
After riding back to Richmond and putting up his horse, Vincent went to
the hotel there. Although but a second-rate hotel it was well filled,
for people from all parts of the Confederacy resorted to Richmond, and
however much trade suffered, the hotels of the town did a good business.
He first went up to the clerk in a little office at the entrance.
"You had a man named Pearson," he said, "staying here a month ago. Will
you please tell me on what day he left?"
The clerk turned to the register, and said, after a minute's
examination:
"He came on the 14th of November, and he left on the 20th."
This was two days after the date on which Dinah had been carried off.
In American hotels the halls are large and provided with seats, and are
usually used as smoking and reading rooms by the male visitors to the
hotel. At Harker's Hotel there was a small bar at the end of the hall,
and a black waiter supplied the wants of the guests seated at the
various little tables. Vincent seated himself at one of these and
ordered something to drink. As the negro placed it on the table he said:
"I will give you a dollar if you will answer a few questions."
"Very good, sah. Dat am a mighty easy to earn dollar."
"Do you remember, about a month ago, a man named Pearson being here?"
The negro shook his head.
"Me not know de names ob de gentlemen, sah. What was de man like?"
"He was tall and thin, with short hair and a gray goatee--a regular
Yankee."
"Me remember him, sah. Dar used to be plenty ob dat sort here. Don't see
dem much now. Me remember de man, sah, quite well. Used to pass most of
de day here. Didn't seem to have nuffin to do."
"Was he always alone, or did he have many people here to see him?"
"Once dar war two men wid him, sah, sitting at dat table ober in de
corner. Rough-looking fellows dey war. In old times people like dat
wouldn't come to a 'spectable hotel, but now eberyone got rough clothes,
can't get no others, so one don't tink nuffin about it; but dose fellows
was rough-looking besides dar clothes. Didn't like dar looks nohow. Dey
only came here once. Dey was de only strangers that came to see him. But
once Massa Jackson--me know him by sight--he came here and talk wid him
for a long time. Dey talk in low voice, and I noticed dey stopped
talking when anyone sat down near dem."
"You don't know where he went to from here, I suppose?"
"No, sah; dat not my compartment. Perhaps de outside porter will know.
Like enough he takes his tings in hand-truck to station. You like to see
him, sah?"
"Yes, I should like to have a minute's talk with him. Here is your
dollar."
The waiter rang a bell, and a minute later the outdoor porter presented
himself.
"You recommember taking some tings to station for a tall man with gray
goatee, Pomp?" the waiter asked. "It was more dan three weeks ago. I
tink he went before it was light in de morning. Me seem to remember
dat."
The negro nodded.
"Me remember him bery well, sah. Tree heavy boxes and one bag, and he
only gave me a quarter dollar for taking dem to de station. Mighty mean
man dat."
"Do you know what train he went by?"
"Yes, sah, it was de six o'clock train for de Souf."
"You can't find out where his luggage was checked for?"
"I can go down to station, sah, and see if I can find out. Some of de
men thar may remember."
"Here is a dollar for yourself," Vincent said, "and another to give to
any of the men who can give you the news. When you have found out come
and tell me. Here is my card and address."
"Bery well, sah. Next time me go up to station me find about it, for
sure, if anyone remember dat fellow."
In the evening the negro called at the house and told Vincent that he
had ascertained that a man answering to his description, and having
luggage similar to that of Pearson, had had it checked to Florence in
South Carolina.
Vincent now called Dan into his counsel and told him what he had
discovered. The young negro had already given proof of such intelligence
that he felt sure his opinion would be of value.
"Dat all bery plain, sah," Dan said when Vincent finished his story. "Me
no doubt dat old rascal Jackson give money to Pearson to carry off de
gal. Ob course he did it just to take revenge upon Tony. Pearson he go
into de plot, because, in de fust place, it vex Missy Wingfield and you
bery much; in de second place, because Jackson gib him money; in de
third place, he get hold of negro slave worf a thousand dollar. Dat all
quite clear. He not do it himself, but arrange wid oder fellows, and he
stop quiet at de hotel for two days after she gone so dat no one can
'spect his having hand in de affair."
"That is just how I make it out, Dan; and now he has gone off to join
them."
Dan thought for some time.
"Perhaps dey join him thar, sah, perhaps not; perhaps him send him
baggage on there and get out somewhere on de road and meet dem."
"That is likely enough, Dan. No doubt Dinah was taken away in a cart or
buggy. As she left two days before he did, they may have gone from forty
to sixty miles along the road, or to some place where he may have joined
them. The men who carried her off may either have come back or gone on
with him. If they wanted to go South they would go on; if they did not,
he would probably have only hired them to carry her off and hand her
over to him when he overtook them. I will look at the time-table and see
where the train stops. It is a fast train I see," after consulting it.
"It stops at Petersburg, fifteen miles on, and at Hicks Ford, which is
about fifty miles. I should think the second place was most likely, as
the cart could easily have gone there in two days. Now, Dan, you had
better start to-morrow morning, and spend two days there, if necessary;
find out, if you can, if on the 20th of last month anyone noticed a
vehicle of any kind, with two rough-looking men in it, and with,
perhaps, a negro woman. She might not have been noticed, for she may
have been lying tied up in the bottom of the cart, although it is more
likely they frightened her by threats into sitting up quiet with them.
They are sure not to have stopped at any decent hotel, but will have
gone to some small place, probably just outside the town.
"I will go with you to Mr. Renfrew the first thing in the morning and
get him to draw up a paper testifying that you are engaged in lawful
business, and are making inquiries with a view to discovering a crime
which has been committed, and recommending you to the assistance of the
police in any town you may go to. Then, if you go with that to the head
constable at Hicks Ford, he will tell you which are the places at which
such fellows as these would have been likely to put up for the night,
and perhaps send a policeman with you to make inquiries. If you get any
news, telegraph to me at once. I will start by the six o'clock train on
the following morning. Do you be on the platform to meet me, and we can
then either go straight on to Florence, or, should there be any
occasion, I will get out there; but I don't think that is likely.
Pearson himself will to a certainty, sooner or later, go to Florence to
get his luggage, and the only real advantage we shall get, if your
inquiries are successful, will be to find out for certain whether he is
concerned in the affair. We shall then only have to follow his traces
from Florence."
Two days later Mr. Renfrew received a telegram from the head constable
at Hicks Ford:
"The two men with cart spent day here, 20th ult. Were joined that
morning by another man--negro says Pearson. One man returned
afternoon, Richmond. Pearson and the other drove off in buggy. A
young negress and child were with them. Is there anything I can
do?"
Mr. Renfrew telegraphed back to request that the men, who were kidnaping
the female slave, should if possible be traced, and the direction they
took ascertained. He then sent the message across to Vincent, who at
once went to his office.
"Now," the lawyer said, "you must do nothing rashly in this business,
Vincent. They are at the best of times a pretty rough lot at the edge of
these Carolina swamps, and at present things are likely to be worse than
usual. If you were to go alone on such an errand you would almost
certainly be shot. In the first place these fellows would not give up a
valuable slave without a struggle; and, in the next place, they have
committed a very serious crime. Therefore it is absolutely necessary
that you should go armed with legal powers and backed by the force of
the law. In the first place, I will draw up an affidavit and sign it
myself, to the effect that a female slave, the property of Vincent
Wingfield, has, with her male child, been kidnaped and stolen by Jonas
Pearson and others, acting in association with him, and that we have
reason to know that she has been conveyed into South Carolina. This I
will get witnessed by a justice of the peace, and will then take it up
to the State House. There I will get the usual official request to the
Governor of South Carolina to issue orders that the aid of the law shall
be given to you in recovering the said Dinah Moore and her child, and
arresting her abductors. You will obtain an order to this effect from
the Governor, and armed with it you will, as soon as you have
discovered where the woman is, call upon the sheriff of the county to
aid you in recovering her and in arresting Pearson and his associates."
"Thank you, sir. That will certainly be the best way. I run plenty of
risks in doing my duty as an officer of the State, and I have no desire
whatever to throw my life away at the hands of ruffians such as Pearson
and his allies."
Two hours later Vincent received from Mr. Renfrew the official letter to
the Governor of South Carolina, and at six o'clock next morning started
for Florence. On the platform of the station at Hicks Ford Dan was
waiting for him.
"Jump into the car at the end, Dan; I will come to you there, and you
can tell me all the news. We are going straight on to Columbia. Now,
Dan," Vincent went on when he joined him--for in no part of the United
States were negroes allowed to travel in any but the cars set apart for
them--"what is your news? The chief constable telegraphed that they had,
as we expected, been joined by Pearson here."
"Yes, sah, dey war here for sure. When I got here I go straight to de
constable and tell him dat I was in search of two men who had kidnaped
Captain Wingfield's slave. De head constable he Richmond man, and ob
course knew all about de family; so he take de matter up at once and
send constable wid me to seberal places whar it likely dat the fellows
had put up, but we couldn't find nuffin about dem. Den next morning we
go out again to village four mile out of de town on de north road, and
dare we found sure 'nough dat two men, wid negro wench and chile, had
stopped dere. She seem bery unhappy and cry all de time. De men say dey
bought her at Richmond, and show de constable of de village de paper dat
dey had bought female slabe Sally Moore and her chile. De constable
speak to woman, but she seem frightened out of her life and no say
anyting. Dey drive off wid her early in de morning. Den make inquiries
again at de town and at de station. We find dat a man like Pearson get
out. He had only little hand-bag with him. He ask one of de men at de
station which was de way to de norf road. Den we find dat one of de
constables hab seen a horse and cart wid two men in it, with negro woman
and child. One of de men look like Yankee--dat what make him take notice
of it. We 'spose dat oder man went back to Richmond again."
"That is all right, Dan, and you have done capitally. Now at Florence we
will take up the hunt. It is a long way down there; and if they drive
all the way, as I hope they will, it will take them a fortnight, so that
we shall have gained a good deal of time on them. The people at the
station are sure to remember the three boxes that lay there for so long
without being claimed. Of course they may have driven only till they got
fairly out of reach. Then they may either have sold the horse and cart,
or the fellow Pearson has with him may have driven it back. But I should
think they would most likely sell it. In that case they would not be
more than a week from the time they left Richmond to the time they took
train again for the South. However, whether they have got a fortnight or
three weeks' start of us will not make much difference. With the
description we can give of Pearson, and the fact that there was a
negress and child, and those three boxes, we ought to be able to trace
him."
It was twelve at night when the train arrived at Florence. As nothing
could be done until next morning, Vincent went to an hotel. As soon as
the railway officials were likely to be at their offices he was at the
station again. The tip of a dollar secured the attention of the man in
the baggage room.
"Three boxes and a black bag came on here a month ago, you say, and lay
here certainly four or five days--perhaps a good deal longer. Of course
I remember them. Stood up in that corner there. They had been checked
right through. I will look at the books and see what day they went. I
don't remember what sort of men fetched them away. Maybe I was busy at
the time, and my mate gave them out. However, I will look first and see
when they went. What day do you say they got here?"
"They came by the train that left Richmond at six o'clock on the morning
of the 20th."
"Then they got in late that night or early next morning. Ah, the train
was on time that day, and got in at half-past nine at night. Here they
are--three boxes and a bag, numbered 15,020, went out on the 28th. Yes,
that's right enough. Now I will just ask my mate if he remembers about
their going out."
The other man was called. Oh, yes! he remembered quite well the three
boxes standing in the corner. They went out some time in the afternoon.
It was just after the train came in from Richmond. He noticed the man
that asked for them. He got him to help carry out the boxes and put them
into a cart. Yes, he remembered there was another man with him, and a
negress with a child. He wondered at the time what they were up to, but
supposed it was all right. Yes, he didn't mind trying to find out who
had hired out a cart for the job. Dare say he could find out by
to-morrow--at any rate he would try. Five dollars was worth earning,
anyway.
Having put the matter in train, Vincent, leaving Dan at Florence, went
down at once to Charleston. Here, after twenty-four hours' delay, he
obtained a warrant for the arrest of Jonas Pearson and others on the
charge of kidnaping, and then returned to Florence. He found that the
railway man had failed in obtaining any information as to the cart, and
concluded it must have come in from the country on purpose to meet the
train.
"At any rate," Vincent said, "it must be within a pretty limited range
of country. The railway makes a bend from Wilmington to this place and
then down to Charleston, so this is really the nearest station to only a
small extent of country."
"That's so," the railway man said. He had heard from Dan a good deal
about the case, and had got thoroughly interested in it. "Either Marion
or Kingstree would be nearer, one way or the other, to most of the
swamp country. So it can't be as far as Conwayborough on the north, or
Georgetown on the south, and it must lie somewhere between Jeffries'
Creek and Lynch's Creek; anyhow it would be in Marion County--that's
pretty nigh sure. So, if I were you, I would take rail back to Marion
Courthouse, and see the sheriff there and have a talk over the matter
with him. You haven't got much to go upon, because this man you are
after has been away from here a good many years and won't be known;
besides, likely enough he went by some other name down here. Anyhow, the
sheriff can put you up to the roads and the best way of going about the
job."
"I think that would be the best way," Vincent said. "We shall be able to
see the county map, too, and to learn all the geography of the place."
"You have got your six-shooters with you, I suppose, because you are
likely as not to have to use them?"
"Yes, we have each got a Colt; and as I have had a good deal of
practice, it would be awkward for Pearson if he gives me occasion to use
it."
"After what I hear of the matter," the man said, "I should say your best
plan is just to shoot him at sight. It's what would serve him right. You
bet there will be no fuss over it. It will save you a lot of trouble
anyway."
Vincent laughed.
"My advice is good," the man went on earnestly. "They are a rough lot
down there, and hang together. You will have to do it sudden, whatever
you do, or you will get the hull neighborhood up agin you."
On reaching Marion Courthouse they sought out the sheriff, produced the
warrant signed by the State authority, and explained the whole
circumstances.
"I am ready to aid you in any way I can," the sheriff said when he
concluded; "but the question is, where has the fellow got to? You see he
may be anywhere in this tract," and he pointed out a circle on the map
of the county that hung against the wall. "That is about fifty mile
across, and a pretty nasty spot, I can tell you. There are wide swamps
on both sides of the creek, and rice grounds and all sorts. There aint
above three or four villages altogether, but there may be two or three
hundred little plantations scattered about, some big and some little. We
haven't got anything to guide us in the slightest; not a thing, as I can
see."
"The man who was working under Pearson, when he was with us, told me he
had got the notion that he had had to leave on account of some trouble
here. Possibly that might afford a clew."
"It might do so," the sheriff said. "When did he come to you?"
"I think it was when I was six or seven years old. That would be about
twelve or thirteen years ago; but, of course, he may not have come
direct to us after leaving here."
"We can look, anyway," the sheriff said, and, opening a chest, he took
out a number of volumes containing the records of his predecessors.
"Twelve years ago! Well, this is the volume. Now, Captain Wingfield, I
have got some other business in hand that will take me a couple of
hours. I will leave you out this volume and the one before it and the
one after it, and if you like to go through them you may come across the
description of some man that agrees with that of the man you are in
search of."
It took Vincent two hours and a half to go through the volume, but he
met with no description answering to that of Pearson.
"I will go through the first six months of the next year," he said to
himself, taking up that volume, "and the last six months of the year
before."
The second volume yielded no better result, and he then turned back to
the first of the three books. Beginning in July, he read steadily on
until he came to December. Scarcely had he begun the record of that
month when he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.
"December the 2d.--Information laid against a gang at Porter's station,
near Lynch's Creek. Charged with several robberies and murders in
different parts of the country. Long been suspected of having stills in
the swamps. Gang consists of four besides Porter himself. Names of gang,
Jack Haverley, Jim Corben, and John and James Porter. Ordered out posse
to start to-morrow."
"December 5th.--Returned from Porter's Station. Surprised the gang. They
resisted. Haverley, Corben, and Jas. Porter shot. John Porter escaped,
and took to the swamp. Four of posse wounded; one, William Hannay,
killed. Circulated description of John Porter through the country. Tall
and lean; when fifteen years old shot a man in a brawl, and went North.
Has been absent thirteen years. Assumed the appearance of a Northern man
and speaks with the Yankee twang. Father was absent at the time of
attack. Captured three hours after. Declares he knows nothing about
doings of the gang. Haverley and Corben were friends of his sons. Came
and went when they liked. Will be tried on the 15th."
On the 16th there was another entry:
"William Porter sentenced to three years' imprisonment for giving
shelter to a gang of robbers. Evidence wanting to show he took any
actual part in their crimes."
The sheriff had been in and out several times during the five hours that
Vincent's search had taken up. When he returned again Vincent pointed
out the entry he had found.
"I should not be at all surprised if that's our man," the sheriff said.
"I know old Porter well, for he is still alive and bears a pretty bad
reputation still, though we have never been able to bring him to book. I
remember all the circumstances of that affair, for I served upon the
posse. While Porter was in prison his house was kept for him by a
married daughter and her husband. There was a strong suspicion that the
man was one of the gang too, but we couldn't prove it. They have lived
there ever since. They have got five or six field hands, and are said to
be well off. We have no doubt they have got a still somewhere in the
swamps, but we have never been able to find it. I will send a man off
to-morrow to make inquiries whether any stranger has arrived there
lately. Of course, Pearson will not have kept that name, and he will not
have appeared as John Porter, for he would be arrested on a fresh
warrant at once for his share in that former business. I think, Captain
Wingfield, you had better register at the hotel here under some other
name. I don't suppose that he has any fear of being tracked here; still
it is just possible his father may have got somebody here and at
Florence to keep their eyes open and let him know if there are any
inquiries being made by strangers about a missing negress. One cannot be
too careful. If he got the least hint, his son and the woman would be
hidden away in the swamps before we could get there, and there would be
no saying when we could find him."
Vincent took the sheriff's advice, and entered his name in the hotel
books as Mr. Vincent. Late in the evening the sheriff came round to him.
"I have just sent summonses to six men. I would rather have had two or
three more, but young men are very scarce around here now; and as with
you and myself that brings it up to eight that ought to be sufficient,
as these fellows will have no time to summon any of their friends to
their assistance. Have you a rifle, Captain Wingfield?"
"No; I have a brace of revolvers."
"They are useful enough for close work," the sheriff said, "but if they
see us coming, and barricade their house and open fire upon us, you will
want something that carries further than a revolver. I can lend you a
rifle as well as a horse, if you will accept them."
Vincent accepted the offer with thanks. The next morning at daylight he
went round to the sheriff's house, where six determined-looking men,
belonging to the town or neighboring farms, were assembled. Slinging the
rifle that the sheriff handed him across his back, Vincent at once
mounted, and the party set off at a brisk trot.
"My man came back half an hour ago," the sheriff said to Vincent as they
rode along. "He found out that a man answering to your description
arrived with another at Porter's about a fortnight ago, and is staying
there still. Whether they brought a negress with them or not no one
seems to have noticed. However, there is not a shadow of doubt that it
is our man, and I shall be heartily glad to lay hold of him; for a
brother of mine was badly wounded in that last affair, and though he
lived some years afterward he was never the same man again. So I have a
personal interest in it, you see."
"How far is it to Porter's?"
"About thirty-five miles. We shall get there about two o'clock, I
reckon. We are all pretty well mounted and can keep at this pace, with a
break or two, till we get there. I propose that we dismount when we get
within half a mile of the place. We will try and get hold of someone who
knows the country well, and get him to lead three of us round through
the edge of the swamp to the back of the house. It stands within fifty
yards of the swamp. I have no doubt they put it there so that they might
escape if pressed, and also to prevent their being observed going
backward and forward to that still of theirs."
This plan was followed out. A negro lad was found who, on the promise of
a couple of dollars, agreed to act as guide. Three of the party were
then told off to follow him, and the rest, after waiting for half an
hour to allow them to make the detour, mounted their horses and rode
down at a gallop to the house. When they were within a short distance of
it they heard a shout, and a man who was lounging near the door ran
inside. Almost instantly they saw the shutters swing back across the
windows, and when they drew up, fifty yards from the door, the barrels
of four rifles were pushed out through slits in the shutters.
The sheriff held up his hand. "William Porter, I want a word with you."
A shutter in an upper room opened, and an elderly man appeared with a
rifle in his hand.
"William Porter," the sheriff said, "I have a warrant for the arrest of
two men now in your house on the charge of kidnaping a female slave, the
property of Captain Wingfield here. I have no proof that you had any
share in the matter, or that you were aware that the slave was not
honestly obtained. In the second place, I have a warrant for the arrest
of your son John Porter, now in your house and passing, recently, under
the name of Jonas Pearson, on the charge of resisting and killing the
officers of the law on the 5th of December, 1851. I counsel you to hand
over these men to me without resistance. You know what happened when
your sons defied the law before, and what will happen now if you refuse
compliance."
"Yah!" the old man shouted. "Do you suppose we are going to give in to
five men? Not if we know it. Now, I warn you, move yourself off while I
let you; else you will get a bullet in you before I count three."
"Very well, then. You must take the consequences," the sheriff replied,
and at once called the party to fall back.
"We must dismount," he said in answer to Vincent's look of surprise.
"They would riddle us here on horseback in the open. Besides, we must
dismount to break in the door."
They rode back a quarter of a mile, and then dismounted. The sheriff
took two heavy axes that hung from his saddle, and handed them to two of
the men.
"I reckon we shall have trouble," he said. "However, I hope we shan't
have to use these. My idea is to crawl up through the cornfield until we
are within shooting distance, and then to open fire at the loopholes.
They have never taken the trouble to grub up the stumps, and each man
must look out for shelter. I want to make it so hot for them that they
will try to bolt to the swamp, and in that case they will be covered by
the men there. I told them not to fire until they got quite close; so
they ought to dispose of three of them, and as they have got pistols
they will be able to master the others; besides, when we hear firing
behind, we shall jump up and make a rush round. Do you, sir, and James
Wilkins here, stop in front. Two of them might make a rush out behind,
and the others, when they have drawn us off, bolt in front."
Several shots were fired at the party as they made their way across to
the end of the field, where the tall stalks of maize were still
standing, though the corn had been gathered weeks before. As soon as
they reached the shelter they separated, each crawling through the maize
until they arrived within fifty yards of the house. There were, as the
sheriff had said, many stumps still standing, and each ensconced himself
behind one of these, and began to reply to the fire that the defenders
kept up whenever they saw a movement among the cornstalks.
At such a distance the shutters were but of slight advantage to the
defenders of the house; for the assailants were all good shots, and the
loopholes afforded excellent targets at such a distance. After a few
shots had been fired from the house the fire of the defenders ceased,
the men within not daring to protrude the rifles through the loopholes,
as every such appearance was instantly followed by a couple of shots
from the corn patch.
"Give me one of those axes," the sheriff said. "Now, Withers, do you
make a rush with me to the door. Get your rifle loaded before you start,
and have your revolver handy in your belt. Now, Captain Wingfield, do
you and the other two keep a sharp lookout at the loopholes, and see
that they don't get a shot at us as we run. Now, Withers!" and the
sheriff ran forward. Two rifles were protruded through the loopholes.
Vincent and his companions fired at once. One of the rifles gave a
sharp jerk and disappeared, the other was fired, and Withers dropped his
ax, but still ran forward. The sheriff began an onslaught at the door,
his companion's right arm being useless. A minute later the sharp crack
of rifles was heard in the rear, and the sheriff and two men rushed in
that direction, while Vincent and the other lay watching the door.
Scarcely had the sheriff's party disappeared round the house when the
door was thrown open, and Pearson ran out at full speed. Vincent leaped
to his feet.
"Surrender," he said, "or you are a dead man!"
Jonas paused for a moment with a loud imprecation, and then, leveling a
revolver, fired. Vincent felt a moment's pain in the cheek, but before
he could level his rifle his companion fired, and Pearson fell forward
dead. A minute later the sheriff and his party ran round.
"Have you got him?" he asked.
"He will give no more trouble, sheriff," the young man who fired said.
"I fancy I had him plum between the eyes. How about the others?"
"Dick Matheson is killed; he got two bullets in his body. The other man
is badly wounded. There are no signs of old Porter."
They now advanced to the door, which stood open. As the sheriff entered
there was a sharp report, and he fell back, shot through the heart. The
rest made a rush forward. Another shot was fired, but this missed them,
and before it could be repeated they had wrested the pistol from the
hand of Matheson's wife. She was firmly secured, and they then entered
the kitchen, where, crouched upon the floor, lay seven or eight negro
men and women in an agony of terror. Vincent's question, "Dinah, where
are you?" was answered by a scream of delight; and Dinah, who had been
covering her child with her body, leaped to her feet.
"It's all right, Dinah," Vincent said; "but stay here, we haven't
finished this business yet."
"I fancy the old man's upstairs," one of the men said. "It was his
rifle, I reckon, that disappeared when we fired."
It was as he expected. Porter was found dead behind the loophole, a
bullet having passed through his brain. The deputy sheriff, who was with
the party, now took the command. A cart and horse were found in an
out-building; in these the wounded man, who was one of those who had
taken part in the abduction of Dinah, was placed, together with the
female prisoner and the dead body of the sheriff. The negroes were told
to follow; and the horses having been fetched, the party mounted and
rode off to the next village, five miles on their way back. Here they
halted for the night, and the next day they went on to Marion
Courthouse, Vincent hiring a cart for the conveyance of Dinah and the
other women. It was settled that Vincent's attendance at the trial of
the two prisoners would not be necessary, as the man would be tried for
armed resistance to the law, and the woman for murdering the sheriff.
The facts could be proved by other witnesses, and as there could be no
doubt about obtaining convictions, it would be unnecessary to try the
charge against the man for kidnaping. Next day, accordingly, Vincent
started with Dinah and Dan for Richmond. Two months afterward he saw in
the paper that Jane Matheson had been sentenced to imprisonment for
life, the man to fourteen years.