THE REBEL FARM-HOUSE
Somers, besides the chagrin caused by his capture, was greatly disturbed
by the astounding discoveries he had made in regard to Captain de Banyan.
He was extremely anxious to obtain an opportunity to converse with him in
relation to his disgraceful antecedents; but the presence of the rebel
soldiers prevented him from saying a word. Yet his looks must have
betrayed the distrust he felt in his companion; for De Banyan seemed to
study his face more than the faces of their captors.
By this time, the six trusty soldiers who had been selected to
participate in the enterprise must have given them up, and returned to
the camp with the sad story of their capture. It was mortifying to Somers
to have such a report carried to the general of the division; for it
seemed to be an imputation upon his skill and tact; but he found some
consolation in believing that he should not have been taken if it had not
been for his unfortunate connection with Captain de Banyan, who was rash
beyond measure in venturing within the rebel lines, unless he really
meant to return to the Third Tennessee.
Whatever the captain was, and whatever he intended to do, Somers could
not believe that his late friend had deliberately betrayed him into the
hands of the enemy. It might be so; or it might be that to save himself
from the consequences of his alleged desertion, he would claim to have
been always a faithful adherent of the Southern Confederacy. Somers was
perplexed beyond description by the perils and uncertainties of his
situation. He had, in fact, lost confidence in his companion; and the
result was, that he resolved to make his escape, if he could, from the
hands of the rebels without him. Under other circumstances, he would have
deemed it infamous to harbor, for an instant, the thought of deserting a
friend in the hour of extremity; and nothing but the remembrance of the
Third Tennessee could have induced him to adopt such a resolution. Having
adopted it, he kept his eyes wide open for any opportunity which would
favor his purpose. His curiosity, excited to the highest pitch to know
what the captain could say in defense of the heinous charge which had
been fastened upon him by the rebel cavalry officer, and which he himself
had substantiated, rendered the intention to part company with him very
disagreeable; but the terror of a rebel prison, and perhaps a worse fate,
were potent arguments in its favor.
In the course of half an hour, the breakfast was ready, and the party sat
down with a hearty relish to discuss it. The fried bacon and biscuit were
luxuries to Somers, and he partook of them with a keener satisfaction
than he did of the costly viands of the "Continental" and the "National;"
but, deeply as he was interested in this pleasant employment, he hardly
ceased for a moment to think of the grand project of making his escape.
For the time, this had become the great business of existence, and he
banished from his mind all minor questions.
Opportunity is seldom wanting to those who are resolutely determined to
do great deeds. Only the slow-molded and irresolute want a time and a
place. The breakfast was finished, and the troopers and their prisoners
were on excellent terms with each other long before the conclusion of the
repast. Eating and drinking promote the social feeling; and Captain de
Banyan was as brilliant as he had ever been in the camps of the
Chickahominy. He made the rebels laugh, and excited their wonder by the
most improbable stories in which even he had ever indulged. It would have
been impossible to distinguish between the captives and the captors; for
the latter were extremely considerate, as they had probably been
instructed to be by the captain of the company.
When the meal was finished, the troopers rose, and proposed to resume the
journey. De Banyan paid the bill in gold; for there was still a small
portion of the precious metal in the army.
"Now we are ready," said the sergeant; "and we will get our horses. It's
a pity we haven't horses for you; but, when you get tired, we will give
you the use of the saddles for a time."
"Thank you, my friend. That's handsome. You remind me of a Russian
major-general, who insisted that I should ride his animal while he walked
by my side, after I was taken prisoner in the battle of Austerlitz."
"He was a good fellow," replied the sergeant, who probably did not
remember the precise date of the celebrated battle quoted by the
versatile captain. "We shall not be behind him; and, if you like, you
shall have the first ride on my horse."
"Thank you; but I couldn't think of depriving you of your horse, even for
a moment."
"Well, we will settle all that by and by. Come with me now, if you
please," said the sergeant, as he led the way out of the house.
As very little attention seemed to be paid to Somers--for the rebels
evidently did not regard him as either a slippery or a dangerous
person--he was permitted to bring up the rear. Now, it is always
mortifying to be held in slight esteem, especially to a sensitive mind
like that of our hero; and he resented the slight by declining to follow
the party. Near the outside door, as they passed out, he discovered
another door, which was ajar, and which led up-stairs. Without any waste
of valuable time, he slyly stepped through the doorway, and ascended the
stairs. The rebels were so busy in listening to the great stories of
Captain de Banyan, that they did not immediately discover the absence of
the unpretending young man.
When our resolute adventurer saw the stairs through the partially open
door, they suggested to him a method of operations. It is true, he did
not have time to elaborate the plan, and fully determine what he should
do when he went up-stairs; but the general idea, that he could drop out
of a window and escape in the rear of the house, struck him forcibly, and
he impulsively embraced the opportunity thus presented. The building was
an ordinary Virginia farm-house, rudely constructed, and very imperfectly
finished. On ascending the stairs, Somers reached a large, unfinished
apartment, which was used as a store-room. From it opened, at each end of
the house, a large chamber.
No place of concealment, which was apparently suitable for his purpose,
presented itself; and, without loss of time, he mounted a grain chest,
and ascended to the loft over one of the rooms; for the beams were not
floored in the middle of the building. The aspect of this place was not
at all hopeful; for there were none of those convenient "cubby holes,"
which most houses contain, wherein he could bestow his body with any hope
of escaping even a cursory search for him.
In the gable end, on one side of the chimney, which, our readers are
aware, is generally built on the outside of the structure, in Virginia,
was a small window, one-half of which, in the decay of the glass panes,
had been boarded up to exclude the wind and the rain. The job had
evidently been performed by a bungling hand, and had never been more than
half done. The wood was as rotten as punk; and without difficulty, and
without much noise, the fugitive succeeded in removing the board which
had covered the lower part of the window.
By this time the absence of the prisoner had been discovered, and the
rebels were in a state of high excitement on account of it; but Somers
was pleased to find they had not rightly conjectured the theory of his
escape. He could hear them swear, and hear them considering the direction
in which he had gone. Two of them stood under the window, to which Somers
had restored the board he had removed; and he could distinctly hear all
that they said.
"Of course he did," said one of them. "He slipped round the corner of the
house when we came out."
"If he did, where is he? It's open ground round here; and he couldn't
have gone ten rods before we missed him."
"The captain will give it to me," replied the other, whose voice the
fugitive recognized to be that of the sergeant.
"We shall find him," added the other. "He can't be twenty rods from here
now."
"I did not think of the young fellow running off, but kept both eyes on
the other all the time; for I thought he wasn't telling all those stories
for nothing."
"Maybe he is in the house," suggested the other.
Somers thought that was a very bad suggestion of the rebel soldier; and,
if there had been any hope of their believing him, he would himself have
informed them that he was not in the house, and reconciled his conscience
as best he could to the falsehood.
"Can't yer find 'em?" demanded a third person, which Somers saw, through
the aperture he had left between the board and the window, was the
farmer.
"We haven't lost but one."
"He can't be fur from this yere."
"Isn't he in the house?" demanded the sergeant anxiously.
"No; I saw them both foller yer out."
"So did I," added the farmer's wife, who had come out to learn the cause
of the excitement.
"Well, then, we must beat about here, and find him;" and the party
beneath the window moved away in the rear of the house.
Thus far, the project was hopeful; but it was apparent to Somers that the
rebels would not leave the place without searching the house, after they
had satisfied themselves that the fugitive was not hidden in any of the
out-buildings of the farm. If they did so, his situation would at once
become hopeless, if he remained where he was. The remembrance of his
former experience in a chimney, in another part of Virginia, caused him
to cast a wistful eye at the great stone structure which adorned the end
of the building. At that time, he had occupied his smoky quarters with
the knowledge and consent of the lady of the house. But now his secret
was lodged in his own breast alone; not even Captain de Banyan knew where
he was, or what he proposed to do.
When the party beneath the window left the place, he carefully removed
the board, and thrust out his head to reconnoiter the position. The only
way by which he could enter the chimney, which his former experience and
prejudice assured him was the only safe place in the vicinity, was by the
top. To achieve such a result was a difficult piece of gymnastics, even
if it could have been performed without reference to any spectators; but
to accomplish it without being seen by any of the party below was as near
an impossibility as any impracticable thing could be.
The rebels, both civil and military, were now out of sight; but he
doubted not from his eyrie on the ridge-pole of the house, if he could
reach it, they could all be seen. Somers was as prudent as he was bold,
and he decided not to run any risks until necessity should absolutely
compel such a course. Quietly ensconcing himself beneath the window,
where he could hear what transpired below, he waited the issue; but he
had studied out the precise steps which it would be necessary for him to
take in order to reach the roof of the house. He knew exactly where his
right and his left foot were to be successfully planted to achieve his
purpose, when it could no longer be postponed. But he indulged a faint
hope that the rebels would widen the area of their search, and finally
abandon it when it should be unsuccessful.
A long quarter of an hour elapsed--long enough to be an hour's time as
its ordinary flow is measured; so burdened with intense anxiety was each
second that made up its sum total. The rebels, assisted by the farmer and
his wife, who were now hardly less zealous than the soldiers, had
examined every hole and corner in the vicinity of the house, without
finding the escaped prisoner.
"I tell you, he must be in the house," said the sergeant, as the party
paused under the window on their return to the front of the house.
"Of course, ye kin look in the house if yer like; but I see 'em both go
out of the door with yer," persisted the farmer.
"We will search the house," added the sergeant resolutely.
"Yer kin, if yer like; but I hope yer won't lose the other feller while
ye're looking for this one."
"I told Gordon to shoot him if he attempted to get away; and I can trust
Gordon."
They passed out of hearing, and Somers felt that his time had come. But,
as we have several times before had occasion to remark, strategy is
successful in one only by the blunders and inertness of the other; and he
cherished with increased enthusiasm his project of hiding in the chimney.
Neither the farmer nor the soldiers were trained detectives, and the
blunder they made which rendered Somers's strategy more available was in
hunting in crowds instead of singly. They all entered the house together;
and even Gordon, in charge of the other prisoner, conducted him to the
interior, that he might have the pleasure of seeing the fugitive
unearthed.
Taking down the board, Somers emerged from the little window, and, by the
steps which he had before marked out, ascended to the roof; a difficult
feat, which would have been impossible to one whose father was not the
master of a vessel, and who had not explored a ship from the step to the
truck of the mainmast. It was done, safely done, and without much noise,
which would have been as fatal as a fall. As he sprang from the window
still to a projecting stone in the chimney, he heard the steps of the
whole party on the stairs below. He was not an instant too soon in the
execution of his project; and, when he reached the ridge-pole of the
house, he paused to recover the breath which he had lost by excitement
and exertion.
The pursuers occupied some time in examining the store-room and the
adjoining chambers, and he had a sufficient interval for rest before he
renewed his labors. But in a few moments he heard the noise caused by the
party ascending to the loft over the room beneath him, and the movement
could no longer be delayed.
"I tell yer, sergeant, the feller isn't in here!" protested the farmer
violently, and in a tone loud enough for Somers to hear him on the roof.
"Be keerful there, or you'll break down the plastering."
Somers could not hear what the sergeant said in reply; but the farmer was
so earnest in his protest against any further search of his house, that
the fugitive was almost willing to believe that the protester knew he was
in the house, was his friend, and meant to save him from the hands of his
enemies. But this supposition was too absurd to be tolerated, for the
farmer could have no possible interest in his welfare.
While watching, he had taken off his shoes, and thrust one into each
side-pocket of the old blouse he wore, partly to save noise, and partly
to prevent his feet from slipping on the smooth stones of the chimney.
Thus prepared, he climbed to the top, and commenced the descent of the
smoky avenue. He found the opening much smaller than that of his previous
experience in chimneys; and, after he had descended a few feet, the place
became inconveniently dark. He could no longer hear the steps or the
voices of his pursuers; and he had begun to congratulate himself on the
ultimate success of his stratagem, when his foot struck upon something
which moved out of his way. It was an animal--perhaps a cat. He moved on.
"Quit! Lemme alone!" said a snarling voice beneath him.