The Scene at the Plantation.
Next evening, George took the lead, and conducted them through the
woods, with a certainty that showed that he was well acquainted with
the ground over which they were passing. Not a word did he speak until
they emerged from the woods, and found before them a large plantation,
with the huge, old-fashioned farm-house, surrounded by its negro
quarters and out-buildings, looming up in the distance.
George gazed upon the scene long and earnestly, until his feelings
overcame him, when he leaned his head upon his hand, and gave full
vent to his sorrow. He did not weep, but the heaving of his chest, and
the quivering of his whole frame, showed how severe was the struggle
that was going on within him. His companions, who well knew what was
passing in his mind, leaned on their weapons, and silently waited
until the burst of grief had subsided. At length, George recovered his
composure, and said, slowly:
"It looks natural, boys; every thing is just as I left it five years
ago. Let us go up to the house. I _must_ see my mother and sisters
once more. We will say that we are rebel soldiers, and want something
to eat. My father and brothers are at Fort De Russy with their
commands, so there will be no danger."
"But your uniform," said Frank, anxiously, "that will certainly betray
us."
"No danger of that," answered George; "a great many soldiers in the
rebel army wear the Federal uniform. There's no danger."
Frank was far from being satisfied, but he fell in with the rest, and
followed George toward the house. A few moments' walk brought them to
a barn, where they again halted, and, while George stood feasting his
eyes on each familiar object, the captain bound the rebel lieutenant
hand and foot, and laid him away under a fence-corner; and left him,
with the information that his life depended upon his observing the
strictest silence. This course was the wisest that could have
been adopted, under the circumstances; for it would have been very
imprudent to have taken the prisoner with them, as he could easily
have found means to make himself known.
George again took the lead, and, when they had almost reached the
house, they heard the sound of a piano, and a female voice singing the
never-failing "Bonnie Blue Flag."
"There you have it," said George, bitterly; "but don't stop--let's
go right in. Major, you had better go up to the door, and ask them
to give us something to eat. I dare not trust myself to do it. Be a
bitter rebel now, and they will certainly invite us all in, and we
will get whatever we ask for. Now, boys," he continued, turning to the
others, "don't watch me too closely when we get in the house, or you
will betray me."
The major--after making sure that the papers, which had already been
of so much service to them, were still in his pocket--ascended the
broad stone steps that led up to the portico, and knocked at the door.
It was opened by a servant, who, after inquiring what he wanted, led
the way into a brilliantly-lighted parlor, where he saw before him
George's mother and sisters.
"Good evening, sir," said Mrs. Le Dell, rising from her seat. "Is
there any way in which we can serve you?"
The major made known his wants, and a servant was at once dispatched
to order supper, and to invite the remainder of the fugitives into
the house. As they filed slowly into the room--George bringing up the
rear--the particular orders which the major gave about the muskets
caused the lady to say:
"You need have no fear, sir. The Yankees have never yet favored us
with a visit."
"I know it, ma'am," replied the major, accepting a chair that one of
the sisters offered him, "but I have been a soldier so long, that I
never omit to make preparations for a fight."
As soon as they were fairly seated, Frank turned to look at George.
"That boy must be made of iron," said he to himself, "or else he
is among his friends, and we are betrayed;" for, instead of being
embarrassed, or wearing his habitual sorrowful look, he sat easily in
his chair, and gazed carelessly about the room, as though he were a
perfect stranger there, and not a muscle quivered, to show the
emotion he really felt, as his eye rested on the familiar faces of
his relatives. He calmly met their glances, which Frank thought were
directed toward him rather suspiciously, but all attempts to draw him
into the conversation that followed, about the war, and the certainty
of speedily overpowering the Yankees, and driving them from the
land, were unavailing. Once Frank thought he heard one of his sisters
whisper, "How much he looks like George!" but he was not recognized,
and the supper, which was enlivened by conversation on indifferent
subjects, passed off pleasantly.
When the meal was finished, a large bag was filled with provisions,
sufficient to last them nearly a week, and given in charge of one
of the soldiers; and the major, after thanking the ladies for their
kindness, was about to bid them good evening, when there was a clatter
of horses' hoofs on the walk, then heavy steps sounded in the hall,
and the next moment, to the utter astonishment and horror of the
fugitives, three rebel officers entered the room.
They were General Le Dell and his two sons.
Frank's heart fairly came up into his mouth at this unwelcome
intrusion, and his first impulse was to draw his revolver and shoot
the rebels where they stood; but, on glancing at the major who always
seemed to have his wits about him, he abandoned the idea. The major,
with the rest, had seized his musket, but, as the rebels entered, he
returned it to its place in the corner, (motioning to the others to do
the same,) and, saluting the general, said, with a smile:
"I beg your pardon, sir. I did not know but that the Yankees were upon
us."
"No danger of that," said the general, with a laugh; "you'll never see
them as far up in the country as this. Pray be seated, sir."
After greeting his wife and daughters, the general again turned to the
major, whom, by his soldierly bearing, he at once picked out as the
leader of the band, and inquired:
"May I ask what you are doing up here? Has not your command been
ordered to Fort De Russy?"
"Yes, sir. But I am out on a scout, by order of General Taylor."
"You can have no objection to produce those orders?"
"O no, sir! certainly not. Here they are," answered the major, drawing
from his pocket the papers which Frank had captured. The general,
after hastily running his eye over them, suddenly exclaimed:
"Why, Lieutenant Somers, how do you do, sir? I am very glad to meet
you again. I heard that you had been taken prisoner. I am most happy
to see that you have escaped."
This was rather more than the major had been expecting, and he
suddenly found himself placed in a most awkward position. But his
presence of mind never forsook him; and, accepting the rebel's
proffered hand, he shook it with apparent cordiality, and replied:
"Thank you, sir. I, myself, am not sorry to know that I am a free man
once more."
"You probably do not remember me," continued the general, "but I was
well acquainted with your father before he moved to Georgia, and used
to trot you on my knee when you were a little fellow; and I do believe
you were the ugliest little brat I ever had any thing to do with. You
did nothing but yell and screech from morning until night. But, by the
way, your father met his death in a very singular manner, did he not?"
"Yes, sir--very singular--very singular, indeed," replied the major,
promptly, as though he were perfectly familiar with all of the
particulars, although in reality he was sorely puzzled to know what to
say. What if the rebel should ask him to explain the affair? But the
general appeared to be well enough acquainted with the matter, for he
continued:
"He died like a brave man, and a soldier. I suppose you intend to take
ample revenge upon the Yankees to pay for it."
"Yes, sir; and I am now on the trail of the very man who shot him."
The major said this at a venture; but, fortunately, he was correct in
his surmise as to the manner in which Mr. Somers departed this life.
While this conversation was going on, Frank was a good deal annoyed
to see that George's sisters, and one of his brothers, were engaged in
mysterious whisperings, now and then darting suspicious glances toward
his new companion. When the general entered, George had risen with
the rest and saluted him, after which he had resumed his seat, and
the deep blush of excitement that arose to his cheek had quickly given
place to the same careless look that Frank had before noticed. George
was also aware that the whispering that was going on related to
himself, and it was evident that his relatives had some suspicions of
who he was; but, if it caused him any uneasiness, he was very careful
to conceal it.
At length, one of his brothers drew his chair to his side, and said:
"Excuse me, sir; but I believe I've seen you before."
"I shouldn't be surprised if you had, sir," answered George, steadily
meeting the rebel's gaze. "I _know_ I've seen you before."
His brother started back in his chair, and a gleam of triumph shot
across his face as he exclaimed:
"George, I know you."
"And you will have cause to know me better before this war is over,"
answered George, forgetting, in his excitement, all the precautions he
had before adopted to escape being recognized.
Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room, the astonishment of the
general and his wife could not have been greater. They sat in their
chairs as motionless as if they had been suddenly turned into stone,
gazing at their son as though they could scarcely believe their eyes,
while the fugitives sat with their hands on their weapons, wondering
what would be the result of George's imprudence. At length the
general, who was the first to recover from his astonishment,
vociferated:
"You here, you rascal--you young traitor! I thought you were safe in
the prison at Tyler again by this time."
"No doubt you did," answered George, bitterly. "But I'm a free man
now, and intend to remain so."
"You are free!" repeated the general; "that's a capital joke.
Lieutenant Somers, I charge you with his safe delivery at Tyler."
The major, greatly relieved to find that the general still considered
him a rebel, was about to promise that George should be well taken
care of, when the latter, to the astonishment of all, boldly declared:
"That is not Lieutenant Somers. These gentlemen are all my
friends--Union to the backbone."
"Eh! what?" ejaculated the general, in surprise, scarcely believing
what he heard. "These men all Yankees?"
"Yes, sir; every one of them."
"A nice-looking set, surely--a fine lot of jailbirds you are."
"So I have been feeding a lot of tyrants instead of loyal Confederate
soldiers," said Mrs. Le Dell, while the sisters gazed at the young
hero with contempt pictured in their faces.
"No, mother, you have _not_ fed tyrants," answered George, with a good
deal of spirit, "but true Union men. It is nothing you need be ashamed
of."
"Well, we _are_ ashamed of it," said the general, who seemed to be
fairly beside himself with rage. "Didn't I tell you never to darken my
door again? Where are you traveling to, and what do you intend to do?"
"I am on my way North, and I purpose to join my vessel, if she is
still afloat."
"You'll do no such thing. Just consider yourselves prisoners--all of
you."
"O no sheneral, I pelieve not," said the captain, quietly, "cause you
see we six been more as you three."
"No, father, we shall never be taken prisoners again--never."
"You are very bold, young man," said the general, who, as he gazed
upon the flushed countenance and flashing eyes of his son, could not
but admire his courage. "This is big talk for a boy of your age."
"We have already wasted time enough," said the major, growing
impatient. "Captain, relieve those gentlemen of their weapons."
The order was promptly obeyed, the rebels offering no resistance.
"Now," resumed the major, "we shall take our leave. Good evening."
"You'll all be in Fort De Russy in less than forty-eight hours,"
shouted the general, "or I am very much mistaken."
"We'll be dead men, then," answered George. "You will never take us
there alive."
The fugitives did not linger to converse, but made all haste to get
into the open air. The horses belonging to the rebels, which were
found fastened in front of the house, were immediately turned loose,
and a thrust from the captain's bayonet sent them galloping up the
road.
George silently led the way to the place where they had left their
prisoner, and, as soon as he was set at liberty, they bent their steps
across the plantation, toward the woods at the rear. Although George
had borne up bravely while in the presence of his rebel parents,
he could control himself no longer, and tears, which he could not
repress, coursed down his cheeks, as ever and anon he turned to take a
long, lingering look at the place he could no longer call home. Every
emotion he experienced found an echo in the generous heart of Frank,
who was scarcely less affected than himself. He could not believe that
the scene through which they had just passed was a reality. It did not
seem possible that parents could address a son in the language that he
had heard used toward George.
The unexpected denouement at the house had rendered the major and
captain doubly anxious; for now nothing but the most consummate skill
and daring could save them from recapture; and, while the former kept
close watch on the house to catch the first sign of pursuit that
should be made, the latter gave vent to his feelings by railing, in
his broken English, first at George for proposing such an expedition,
and then by deprecating his own folly for yielding his consent to
it. But there was no help now; regrets could not mend the matter, and
nothing but rapid flight could save them.
When they reached the end of the field, George became suddenly
aroused. Brushing away the tears that dimmed his eyes, he placed
himself at the head of the party, and started on at a rapid pace
through the woods.