DE BANYAN AT WORK
"How do you feel, my dear boy?" asked Captain de Banyan as soon as the
doctor had left the room.
Somers, by the skilful applications of the physician, had been restored
to consciousness, and had listened with astonishment, not unmingled with
alarm, to the last part of the conversation between his friend and their
host.
"I feel a little better, captain; at any rate, I am more comfortable,"
replied Somers.
"I am glad to hear it. I have been terribly worried about you."
"I think I shall do well enough. But what shall I say for myself?"
"Say nothing, Somers--not a word. Don't commit yourself to anything."
"What have you told him?"
"Nothing; and I don't intend to tell him anything. He is a jolly old
fellow, who thinks he is very eccentric, and takes pride in being
considered so. When I was in the Crimea----"
"Never mind the Crimea now," interrupted Somers with a languid smile.
"I was only going to say that I understand the old doctor first-rate, and
can manage him as easily as I could an old plow-horse. Keep still,
Somers; don't let on, under any circumstances. Leave me to do all the
talking."
"But the cavalry are after us now."
"Never mind; the doctor will take care of them."
"They will recognize our horses, if they don't know us."
"No matter if they do."
Somers thought it was matter; and he could not see for the life of him
how De Banyan was to get out of such a scrape as this; for it was an
infinitely worse one than his own experience on the Williamsburg road. He
could only hope for the best, expecting nothing but disaster.
"Good! Bully for the doctor!" exclaimed De Banyan as the sounds of an
excited controversy at the side door reached the ears of the patient and
his friend. "He is doing just what I expected him to do."
"Pray, what did you expect him to do?" asked Somers, who could not see
what a rebel surgeon could be expected to do under the circumstances,
besides delivering them up to the military authorities.
"I expect him to protect us to the utmost of his ability; and, in my
opinion, he has quite as much influence as any other man in Petersburg.
When you see a man like Dr. Scoville, you may depend upon it he is a
power in the community where he lives. He knows it as well as any other
person. Let the doctor alone, and he will manage the matter as skilfully
as he dressed your wounded arm."
Whatever confidence Captain de Banyan had in the will and the ability of
Dr. Scoville to protect them, he was curious to hear what the soldiers
and what the doctor had to say. He was not quite willing to be seen by
the rebel soldiers; so he passed quickly into the entry, and took a
position where he could hear without being observed.
"Do you know who I am, you villain?" demanded the doctor, in tones so
full of rage, that the troopers ought to have been annihilated, though it
appears that they were not.
"I don't care who you are; I want the men that came here an hour ago,"
replied one of the troopers.
"If Jeff Davis himself came for them, he couldn't have them!" roared Dr.
Scoville.
"I tell you, sir, one of them is a deserter, and the other is a Yankee."
"I don't care what they are. Report my answer to the provost-marshal;
tell him Dr. Scoville will be responsible for the safety of the men."
"I won't report any such answer to him."
"If a man of you attempts to enter my house, I'll shoot him!" replied the
doctor, taking a rifle from a nail in the entry.
"Very well, sir; if you can shoot any better than we can, you may begin,"
said the soldier. "But, as sure as you fire, you are a dead man."
"And those of you whom I don't shoot will be hung as soon as you report
the death of Dr. Scoville at headquarters."
Whatever the soldiers thought, they were not willing to assume the
responsibility of shooting a man like the doctor, whose splendid mansion
was a guaranty of his wealth and high standing, and whose strong words
assured them that he was a man of influence. Even the possibility of
being hanged in such a cause was not agreeable to contemplate; and the
doctor carried the day against his assailants.
"I don't want to shoot you, Dr. Scoville; but I shall put a guard over
your house, and wait for further orders," said the soldier, who appeared
to be a sergeant.
"Do anything you please; but don't you enter my house. Every man, woman
and child here is under my protection," replied the doctor, as he
restored the rifle to its original position; and the troopers retired
from the door.
Captain de Banyan withdrew from the hall, and joined Somers in the
sitting-room, where he was immediately followed by the doctor. The
situation did not look very hopeful, even to a man of such desperate
fortunes as the bold Tennessean. The house was surrounded by rebel
soldiers, and a report of the case would probably be made to the
provost-marshal; therefore it was not at all likely that the doughty
doctor could long remain contumacious.
"So, my mysterious friend, you are a Confederate deserter, are you?" said
the doctor, as he placed himself in front of the captain, thrust his
hands deep down into the pockets of his pants, and stared at his guest
with all the vigor of an active and piercing eye.
"You say that I am; but I adhere to my original resolution, to say
nothing at present," replied De Banyan, returning the gaze of the doctor
as earnestly as it was given.
"If you were Abe Lincoln himself, you are safe in my house," said the
doctor after a long pause. "But I wish you to understand clearly and
precisely what I mean. I am not the man to shield a deserter or a Yankee
from the penalty due to his crimes. You came into my house with a wounded
man. I am an Arab on the subject of hospitality. Whoever comes into my
house is my guest; and I never betrayed a man who trusted in me."
"Thank you, doctor."
"You needn't thank me, for I despise you from the deepest depths of my
heart; and in due time you will fall into the hands of the military
authorities, but not in my house."
"Thank you, Dr. Scoville. I appreciate your hospitality, and despise you
as much as you do me," answered De Banyan.
"Despise me! How dare you----"
"Oh! I dare do anything; and I beg leave to inform you that neither
myself nor my friend will fall into the hands of the soldiers, either in
your house or outside of it. You can set your mind entirely at ease on
that subject."
"I am tempted for once to violate even my own law of hospitality."
"As you please, doctor; that matter is for you to consider, not for me.
But I beg you to understand precisely what I say. I am very thankful to
you for your kindness; and I assure you that whatever you do and say, I
shall remember your hospitality with the most grateful emotions. I speak
for myself and for my friend."
Dr. Scoville seemed to be very much perplexed, as the captain evidently
intended he should be; and, turning abruptly from the deserter, he paced
the room, rapidly and in silence, for several minutes. De Banyan sat down
by the side of Somers, and said a great many comforting things to him,
which, in his weak and suffering condition, were as grateful as a woman's
smile at the couch of pain.
Breakfast was ready, and with the utmost politeness the doctor conducted
his guest to the table, while one of the black women was ordered to
supply the wants of the patient on the sofa. During the meal, not a word
was said about the war, or the peculiar circumstances under which the
patient and his friend had come to the house. The captain discoursed
about the wars in other lands, and it is more than probable that he
exercised the credulity of the doctor to the utmost. Both the host and
the guest were affable to the last degree; for the choleric physician was
conscious that he had more than a match in the other.
After breakfast, Somers was conducted to the guest-chamber on the second
floor of the mansion. He was as tenderly cared for by the doctor and the
servants as though he had been an honored friend, instead of a hunted
enemy. In the course of the forenoon, Dr. Scoville received a visit from
the provost-marshal, attended by half a company of cavalry. Of course,
the captain was exceedingly curious to know the result of this interview,
which was conducted in the most courteous manner; and he was so impolite
as to play the part of a listener. The officer was informed that Captain
Sheffield had been dangerously wounded by the fugitives; but the
eccentric physician positively refused to have his guests taken from his
house, assuring the provost-marshal that he would be responsible for
their safe-keeping, and offered to board a dozen men who should be
employed in guarding them. The officer protested in gentlemanly terms
against such a course; but it was evident that the doctor was the
greatest man in Petersburg, and must have his own way.
The result of the conference was, that the provost-marshal yielded the
point, and a sentinel was placed at the door of Somers's chamber, to
which the captain had retreated. The officer visited the room, and fully
identified his prisoner, between whom and himself a sharp conversation
ensued, much to the amusement of the doctor. The captain was assured that
in due time, he should swing, which pleasant information he received with
becoming good nature, promising to be present when the exciting event
should take place. The provost-marshal retired, satisfied with the
precautions he had taken.
For the following three days, the sentinel at the door, with a loaded
musket in his hand, kept guard over his prisoners. Somers had improved
rapidly, though by the advice of his managing friend, he pretended to be
much worse than he really was. Dr. Scoville, though he still kept his
word and maintained his position with regard to the prisoners,
continually "thorned" the captain with a prospect of the gallows, which
he declared was his certain doom. De Banyan still preserved his
equanimity, and still declared that he should never be hanged.
"What do you intend to do?" asked Somers on the third day of his
confinement, after the doctor had taunted his guest with more than usual
severity.
"I haven't the least idea, my dear boy," replied the captain with a grim
smile. "So far, I have no plans. When you are able to move, Somers, we
will see what can be done."
"I can move now; you need not delay a single hour on my account. I am all
right but my arm."
De Banyan was by no means as cheerful as he appeared to be. He was
troubled, and paced the room with uneasy tread; but, the moment the
doctor entered the room, he was as gay as a Broadway beau. Somers had
vainly attempted to persuade him to make his own escape, and leave him to
his fate; but the brave fellow steadily refused to desert him under any
circumstances that could possibly present themselves.
The captain was remarkably still for him, after Somers had convinced him
that he was able to move. He paced the room as before; but his eyes were
glancing uneasily at the floor, the ceiling, and the walls of the
apartment. The work had commenced in his mind; and Somers watched his
movements with interest, yet without hope. On one side of the fire-place
in the room there was a door, which was locked, but which evidently
opened into a closet.
Before this door, De Banyan suddenly came to a dead halt. He examined it
with the utmost care; and then with a fork from the breakfast things
which had not been removed, he commenced operations upon the lock. One of
the prongs of the fork was broken off between two bricks in the
fire-place, and the other bent; so that the instrument formed a very good
pick-lock. The door was opened without the expenditure of much time or
patience; and the captain proceeded to explore the interior of the
closet, after instructing his fellow-prisoner to give him timely warning
of any movement on the part of the sentinel.
Somers did not see the captain again for half an hour, but when he came
out he looked as though he had endured the tortures of a month of
suspense; but, with a ghastly smile, he told his companion that the hour
for action had come.
"What do you mean, captain?" demanded Somers.
"Let us use haste; we shall have more time to talk to-morrow, when we get
back to the camp on the other side of the James River. Are you very sure
that you can stand the fatigue of a long walk?"
"I know I can."
"Then come with me; but a particle of noise will be fatal to us."
De Banyan led the way to the closet; but, before he entered himself, he
tied together the two sheets of the bed, and made one end fast to one of
the bed-posts, near a window at the end of the house, which he opened
without noise. Dropping the sheet out, he retreated to the closet, and
with the pick-lock secured the door. They were in darkness now, and
seating themselves on the floor, with palpitating hearts they waited the
issue. For more than an hour they waited the expected alarm. They could
occasionally hear a movement on the part of the sentinel in the entry;
but he probably thought it was foolish to be very vigilant over a man so
sick as Somers. But the demonstration came at last; and the prisoners,
sweltering in the confined air of the closet, listened with breathless
interest to the shouts of the soldiers outside, and to the rapid steps of
those within the mansion.
The doctor and the sentinel entered the chamber so lately occupied by the
prisoners. The former swore in no measured terms at the faithlessness of
the sentry at the door, and at the stupidity of those who guarded the
house outside. But they seemed to have no doubt as to the manner of the
escape.
There was the open window, and the rope made of the bed-linen, which De
Banyan had pulled with his hands till it had the appearance of having
sustained a great weight. Dr. Scoville did not even try the door of the
closet; and the anxious listeners soon had the pleasure of hearing the
sounds of horses' hoofs, as the cavalry rode off to engage in the search
for the fugitives.
Everything about the house soon subsided into the most profound quiet,
and it was evident that the doctor and all the soldiers were engaged in
the search. After this solemn stillness had continued for a time, they
heard the voices of the servants in the chamber. They talked about the
escape, and all of them expressed a hope that "poor young massa would get
out ob de way." Here was an opportunity for an alliance, offensive and
defensive, which the prudent captain could not reject. Carefully opening
the door, he presented himself to the astonished negroes. With
considerable difficulty, he hushed their noisy exclamations, and opened
the case so eloquently, that all three of them readily promised to help
the fugitives in making their escape. They grinned with delight when they
comprehended the trick by which the doctor and the soldiers had been put
on the wrong scent.
With their assistance, the fugitives left the house, and made their way
to the stable, where Alick, the man who had waited upon them in the room,
raised a plank in the floor, and introduced them to secure but not very
comfortable quarters under the building. There was no cellar under the
stable, and the space which they occupied was not more than two feet in
height; but what it lacked in this direction, it made up in length and
width.
When the fugitives were fairly installed in their new hiding-place, Alick
sat down on the floor, and told them all he knew about the events which
had transpired since their absence had been discovered. He brought them
an abundant supply of food and drink, and promised to provide them with
horses as soon as it was dark. It was nearly night before the doctor
returned; and while attending to his horse, Alick asked him some
questions about the chase. He was not very communicative, for, of course,
the pursuit had been unsuccessful; but the ingenious black wormed some
facts out of him in regard to the events of the day, which enabled him to
be of great assistance to the fugitives.
The doctor had hardly gone into the house before Alick commenced his
preparations for departure; and three horses instead of two were in
readiness when Somers and the captain emerged from their covert. Alick
was to be one of the party; and by the fields in the rear of the house
they commenced their perilous journey.