_LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS._
Cudjo was highly exasperated to find strangers in the cave. He became
quickly reconciled to the presence of Virginia's sister, but not to that
of Lysander. To pacify him, Carl made him a present of the sword which
he had removed from the captain's noble person on arriving.
Cudjo received the weapon with unbounded delight, and proceeded to
adjust the belt to his own Ethiopian waist. It mattered little with him
that he got the scabbard on the wrong side of his body: a sword was a
sword; and he wore it in awkward and ridiculous fashion, strutting up
and down in the fire-lighted cave, to the envy and disgust of old Toby,
the rage of Lysander, and the amusement of the rest.
Penn meanwhile related to his friends his evening's adventures. He had
gone down to the ravine with the negroes to bury the horse and his dead
rider. He was keeping watch while they worked; the man was interred, and
they were digging a pit for the animal, when they discovered the
approach of the soldiers, and retired to a hiding-place close by. There
they lay concealed, whilst Ropes and his men descended to the spot,
exhumed the corpse with Cudjo's shovel, made their comments upon it, and
put it back into the ground. During this operation it had required all
Pomp's authority, and the restraint of his strong hand, to keep Cudjo
from pouncing upon his old enemy and former overseer, Silas Ropes.
"There were three of us," said Penn, "and only three of them, besides
Pepperill; and no doubt a struggle would have resulted in our favor. But
we did not want to be troubled with prisoners; and Pomp and I could not
see that anything was to be gained by killing them. Besides, we knew
they had a strong reserve within call. So we waited patiently until they
finished their work, and climbed up out of the ravine; then we climbed
up after them. We thought their main object must be to find the cave,
and Pomp strongly suspected Pepperill of treachery. We found a large
number of soldiers lying under some bushes, and crept near enough to
hear what they were saying. They were going to take the cave by
surprise, and an order had just come for them to move farther up the
mountain. They set off with scarcely any noise, reminding me of the
'Forty Thieves,' as they filed away in the moonlight, and disappeared
among the bushes and shadows. Pomp is on their trail now; he has his
rifle with him, and it may be heard from if he sees them change their
course and approach too near the cave."
Penn had come in for his musket. It was the same that had fallen from
the hands of the man Griffin at the moment when that unhappy rebel was
in the act of charging bayonet at his breast. Assuring Virginia--who
could not conceal her alarm at seeing him take it from its corner--that
he was merely going out to reconnoitre, he left the cave.
He was gone several hours. At length he and Pomp returned together. The
moon had long since set, but it was beautiful starlight; and, themselves
unseen, they had watched carefully the movements of the soldiers.
"You would have laughed to have been in my place, Carl!" said Penn,
laying his hand affectionately on the shoulder of his beloved pupil.
"They besieged the ledge where your imaginary cave is for full two hours
after I went out, apparently without daring to go very near it."
"I suppose," replied Carl, "they vas vaiting for me and the captain. It
vas really too pad now for us to make them lose so much waluable time!
But they vill excuse Mishter Shprowl; his absence is unawoidable." And
lifting his brows with a commiserating expression, he gave a comical
side-glance from under them at the languishing Lysander.
All laughed at the lad's humor except the captain himself--and Salina.
After besieging the imaginary cave as Penn had described, several of the
confederates, he said, at last ventured with extreme caution to approach
it.
"And found," added Carl, "they had been made the wictims of von leetle
stratagem!"
"I suppose so," said Penn; "for immediately an unusual stir took place
amongst them."
"In searching for the entrance," laughed Pomp, leaning on his rifle,
"they came close under a juniper-tree I had climbed into, and I could
hear them cursing the little Dutchman----"
"I suppose that vas me," smiled the good-natured Carl.
"And the 'pig-headed captain' who had gone off with him."
"The pig-headed captain is this indiwidual"--indicating Sprowl. "But it
is wery unjust to be cursing him, for it vas not his fault. It vas my
legs and Toby's that conweyed him; and he had a handkersheaf over his
face for a wail."
"I suspected how it was, even before I met Penn and learned what had
happened. I am sorry to see this fellow in this place,"--Pomp turned a
frowning look at the corner where Lysander lay,--"but now that he is
here, he must stay."
Carl, upon whom the only noticeable effect produced by his exciting
adventure was a lively disposition to talk, quite unusual with him,
entered upon a full explanation of the circumstances which had led to
Lysander's capture. His narrative was altogether so simple, so honest,
so droll, that even the bitter Salina had to smile at it, while all the
rest, the old clergyman included, joined in a hearty laugh of admiring
approval at its conclusion.
"I don't see but that you did the best that could be done," said Pomp.
"At all events, the villains seem to have been completely baffled. The
last I saw of them they were retreating through the burned woods, as if
afraid to have daylight find them on the mountain."
The daylight had now come; and Penn, who went out to take an
observation, could discover no trace of the vanished rebels. The eastern
sky was like a sheet of diaphanous silver, faintly crimsoned above the
edges of the hills with streaks of the brightening dawn. All the valley
below was inundated by a lake of level mist, whose subtle wave made
islands of the hills, and shining inlets of the intervales. Above this
sea of white silence rose the mountain ranges, inexpressibly calm and
beautiful, fresh from their bath of starlight and dew, and empurpled
with softest tints of the early morning.
Penn heard a footstep, and felt a touch on his arm. Was it the beauty of
the earth and sky that made him shiver with so sudden and sweet a
thrill? or was it the lovely presence at his side, in whom was
incarnated, for him, all the beauty, all the light, all the joy of the
universe?
It was Virginia, who leaned so gently on his arm, that not the slight
pressure of her weight, but rather the impalpable shock of bliss her
very nearness brought, made him aware of her approach. Toby followed,
supporting her along the shelf of rock--a dark cloud in the wake of that
rosy and perfumed dawn.
"O, how delicious it is out here!" said the voice, which, if we were to
describe it from the lover's point of view, could be likened only to the
songs of birds, the musical utterance of purest flutes, or the blowing
of wild winds through those grand harp-strings, the mountain pines; for
there was more of poetry and passion compressed in the heart of this
quiet young Quaker than we shall venture to give breath to in these
pages.
"It is--delicious!" he quiveringly answered, in his happy confusion
blending _her_ with his perception of the daybreak.
She inhaled deep draughts of the mountain air.
"How I love it! The breath of trees, and grass, and flowers is in
it,--those dear friends of mine, that I pine for, shut up here in
prison!"
"Do you?" said Penn, vaguely, half wishing that he was a flower, a blade
of grass, or a tree, so that she might pine for him.
"The air of the cave," she said, "is cold; it is odorless. The cave
seems to me like the great, chill hearts of some of your profound
philosophers! Some of those tremendous books father makes me read to him
came out of such hearts, I am sure; great hollow caverns, full of
mystery and darkness, and so cold and dull they make me shudder to touch
them;--but don't you, for the world, tell him I said so,--for, to please
him, I let him think I am ever so much edified by everything that he
likes."
"What sort of books _do_ you like?"
"O, I like books with daylight in them! I want them to be living,
upper-air, joyous books. There must be sunshine, and birds, and
brooks,--human nature, life, suffering, aspiration, and----"
"And love?"
"Of course, there should be a little love in books, since there is
sometimes a little, I believe, in real life." But she touched this
subject with such airy lightness,--just hovering over it for an instant,
and then away, like a butterfly not to be caught,--that Penn felt a
jealous trouble. "How long," she added immediately, "do you imagine we
shall have to stay here?"
"It is impossible to say," replied Penn, turning with reluctance to the
more practical topic. "One would think that the government cannot leave
us much longer subject to this atrocious tyranny. An army may be already
marching to our relief. But it may be weeks, it may be months, and I am
not sure," he added seriously, "but it may be years, before Tennessee is
relieved."
"Why, that is terrible! Toby says that poor old man, Mr. Ellerton, who
assisted you to escape, was caught and hung by some of the soldiers
yesterday."
"I have no doubt but it is true. Although he had returned to his home,
he was known to be a Unionist, and probably he was suspected of having
aided us; in which case not even his white hairs could save him."
"But it is horrible! They have commenced woman-whipping. And Toby says a
negro was hung six times a couple of days ago, and afterwards cut to
pieces, for saying to another negro he met, 'Good news; Lincoln's army
is coming!' What is going to become of us, if relief doesn't arrive
soon? O, to look at the beautiful world we are driven from by these
wicked, wicked men!"
"And are you so very weary of the cave?"
Penn gave her a look full of electric tenderness, which seemed to say,
"Have not I been with you? and am I nothing to you?"