BEARDSLEY IN TROUBLE.
The profound silence that reigned in the room for a minute or two after
Mr. Watkins made his extraordinary announcement, was broken at last by
Marcy Gray, who exclaimed eagerly:
"If that is the man who wants to see me, I hope you will take me to him
at once. I have wanted to meet him ever since that miserable day when I
stood by and saw him make his gallant attempt at escape, for I have
seventeen hundred dollars that belong to him--my share of the prize
money his schooner sold for, you know, captain."
"Mister, if you please," said the officer, with a smile. "I used to be
captain in the merchant marine, but am now executive officer of Captain
Benton's vessel, and am simply Mr. Watkins."
"Mr. Watkins," interposed Mrs. Gray, "my son has saved all the money
that came to him through the sale of the _Hollins_, and longed for and
dreamed of the day when he could restore it to its lawful owner. When
Captain Beardsley turned his privateer into a blockade runner Marcy
refused to take out a venture, though by so doing he might have made his
seventeen hundred dollars of prize money bring him five thousand more.
Captain Benton's money is safe, and he will receive it in the same shape
in which it was paid to my son. But, sir," added Mrs. Gray, seeing that
the officer did not occupy the chair that had been placed for him, "I
trust you will not find it necessary to take Marcy into battle."
"I really cannot see anyway in which it can be avoided, madam," said Mr.
Watkins truthfully. "There is bound to be a fight if the enemy stands
his ground, and my vessel will be one of the foremost in it. But I hope
you understand that we do not mean to keep him with us unless he wants
to stay. He will be at liberty to return to you as soon as his services
can be dispensed with."
"Yes, sir, I understand that," said the mother tearfully. "But a stray
bullet or a shell will be as likely to strike a non-combatant as any one
else. I have given one son to the service of his country, and I can give
another; but when you take Marcy you take all I have."
The officer drew his hand across his eyes, as if brushing away a mist
that was gathering there, and looked up at a painting over the mantel;
while Marcy, knowing that the parting must come, and that it would be
better to have it over as speedily as possible, began to bestir
himself.
"I will have the money dug up right now," said he. "And, mother, while I
am doing that, will you bring down my Union flag--not the weather-beaten
one, but the other that I hoisted on the _Fairy Belle_ when I took Jack
out to the fleet."
"I little expected to find a Union flag down here," said Mr. Watkins,
who was very much surprised. "I should think you would find it dangerous
to keep one."
"So we would if the people around here knew it was in the house,"
replied Marcy. "But that is something we don't publish. Your men will
not bother me if I go into the garden, will they?"
"I will see that they don't," was the answer; and, while Marcy went out
of the back door as if he had been thrown from a catapult, Mr. Watkins
went out at the front, and Mrs. Gray hastened to her son's room with a
pair of scissors in her hand. Marcy went to the coachman's cabin and
felt for the latch-string; but it had been pulled in, and that proved
that old Morris was inside. He pounded upon the door, and called the
black man's name impatiently.
"O Lawd! Who dat?" came in muffled tones from under the blankets.
Before Marcy could answer Julius glided around the corner of the cabin,
looking like a small black ghost very scantily clad in white. He had
been brave enough when the robbers made their raid upon the house and
there was a strong force of Union men to back him up, but now that he
thought the robbers had come again to finish their work, when Aleck
Webster and his friends were not at hand to lend assistance, he was very
badly frightened.
"I don't suppose Morris will get up and let me in, but you will do as
well as anybody," said Marcy. "Get a spade, quick, and come with me. No,
they are not robbers. They are Yankees, and I am to go to the fleet with
them; and that is all I can tell you. Hurry up."
While Julius was digging in one of Mrs. Gray's flower-beds under Marcy's
supervision, and the quilt on his bed was being ripped to pieces, Mr.
Watkins was standing in the front yard, telling the master's mate what
he had seen and heard in the house. The young officer was astonished,
and declared he had never dreamed that there was such Union sentiment
anywhere in the South.
"I did not believe there was either, though I have often heard of it,"
replied Mr. Watkins, "but I believe it now. It is easy enough for us who
are surrounded by loyal people to swear by the old flag, but I tell you
it must take pluck and plenty of it to do it down here. I wish some one
else had been ordered to do this work, for I have taken her last prop
away from that poor woman in there. She is a heroine; and as for the
boy, he is as true as steel, and as brave as they make them. One can't
look in his face and think anything else of him. He has gone to dig up
the captain's money and will be along directly. I never thought to ask
him how he got his hand hurt."
While the officer was adding to his subordinate's surprise by telling
how completely Lon Beardsley had reduced Captain Benton to poverty by
taking the _Hollins_ from him, Mrs. Gray came down the steps with
Marcy's flag in her hand and followed by three laughing darkies, who
brought with them large trays loaded with something good to eat and
drink--bread and butter, cold meat, and pitchers filled to the brim with
the richest of milk. While the hungry gunboat men were regaling
themselves and wondering at such treatment from Southerners, all of whom
they supposed to be the most implacable and violent of rebels, Mrs. Gray
shook out the folds of the flag, and spread it upon the wall where they
could all see it. The unexpected sight thrilled them, and every cap was
lifted.
"If things wasn't just as they are, missus," said one, "we'd give it a
cheer; asking your pardon and the deck's for speaking when I wasn't
spoke to."
"But our guns will cheer it in the morning, and they will make more
noise than we could," observed another. "Likewise asking pardon for
speaking."
At this moment Marcy appeared, bundled up ready for his trip to the
coast, and carrying in his hand a valise, which contained, among other
things, the box that held Captain Benton's money. It was all in gold,
too; for at that time gold was as plenty as scrip in the Confederacy,
and Captain Beardsley, ignorant as he was on some points, was much too
shrewd a man of business to take paper money when he could have what he
called the "hard stuff" for the asking. Had the _Hollins_ been captured
one short year later, Marcy would have been obliged to take his share of
the prize money in scrip, and Captain Benton might have thought himself
lucky if he had received twenty cents on the dollar.
When the blue-jackets had disposed of everything there was on the trays,
either by eating it themselves or putting it into the bosom of their
shirts, to be divided with the guards who had been left in charge of the
boats, and Marcy had stowed his Union flag in his valise, there was
nothing to detain them longer. The master's mate marched the squad away
while Mr. Watkins lingered a moment, cap in hand, to say good-by to the
woman whose quiet courage had excited his admiration.
"Take good care of my boy, sir," said Mrs. Gray, as if she thought the
officer could give Marcy a safe station in action, or protect him from
the shot and shell that would soon be shrieking about his ears.
"Remember he is all I have to give you."
"I'll have an eye upon him, madam, and upon your other boy as well, when
I find out where he is," replied Mr. Watkins. "We are not pressing men
into our service, and I know I can safely say that Marcy will be
permitted to return to his home as soon as we can get along without
him."
"I shall have that promise to console me during his absence," said Mrs.
Gray. "Good-by, Marcy. When you come back to me I want you to be able to
say that you did your duty. Oh, is there no way in which this dreadful
state of affairs can be brought to an end?" she cried, once more giving
way to her tears when she felt Marcy's arm closing around her waist.
"Certainly there is," answered the officer. "The Richmond authorities
can end this war in an hour by telling their soldiers to lay down their
arms and stop fighting the government. That would be an easy thing for
them to do, and it is all we ask of them. Good-by, Mrs. Gray. I trust we
may meet again under pleasanter circumstances."
The executive turned away as he spoke, leaving the young pilot alone
with his mother. He did not prolong the leave-taking, but brought it to
an end as quickly as he could, shook hands with the three darkies, whose
laughter was now changed to weeping, looked around for Morris and
Julius, neither of whom was in sight, and in two minutes more was
marching by Mr. Watkins's side along the road that led past the ruins of
Captain Beardsley's house. If Marcy remembered that his old captain was
one of the best pilots for those waters that could be found anywhere he
did not think to speak of it, nor did he take more than passing note of
the fact that there was another squad of sailors standing in the road in
front of Beardsley's gate. They seemed to be waiting for Mr. Watkins,
for an officer walked up and exchanged a few low, hurried words with
him. Marcy afterward thought that the barking of Beardsley's dogs, and
the shrill frightened voices of the house servants and field-hands which
came faintly from the direction of the quarter, ought to have told him
that something unusual had been going on there, but he did not pay very
much attention to the sounds. He was thinking of his mother. "Very good,
sir," said Mr. Watkins, in response to the officer's whispered
communication. "Make all haste to the boats and shove off; but preserve
silence, and keep the line well closed up."
The officer, accompanied by Doctor Patten's boy Jonas, went back to his
own squad, which at once moved into the woods. That of Mr. Watkins
immediately followed, led by the master's mate, the executive and Marcy
bringing up the rear as before; but it was not until the men were all
embarked and the four boats were well on their way down the creek, that
they had opportunity to exchange a word with each other. Mr. Watkins's
cutter led the way, Jonas occupying his old place in the bow, and
passing his instructions to the coxswain in a whisper. The sailors bent
to their work with a will, and the boats moved swiftly on their course;
but the muffled oars were dipped so carefully, and feathered so neatly,
that there was no sound heard save the slight swishing of the water
alongside. Feeling entirely satisfied with the way in which he had
carried out the instructions of his superior, Mr. Watkins settled back
on his elbow in the stern-sheets and addressed Marcy in low and guarded
tones.
"I remarked to one of my officers a short time ago that it must take
courage, and plenty of it, to be loyal in this country; and I told the
truth, did I not?" he whispered.
"One has to be more than brave to be true to his colors in this
section," replied Marcy. "He has to be deceitful. I can satisfy you of
that, if you think a few scraps of my personal history would be of
interest to you."
Mr. Watkins answered that nothing would suit him better than to hear,
from the lips of one who knew all about it, how the Union people, if
there were any in that country besides his own family, managed to live
among their rebel neighbors; and Marcy began and told his story, but not
quite so fully as the reader knows it. He did not have time to do that,
and besides he was too modest; but he easily brought his auditor to
believe that the arm he carried in a sling had not been injured while
its owner was fighting on the Confederate side, and also showed him that
he had more reason to stand in fear of Captain Beardsley than of any
other man in the settlement.
"What worries me just now is the fear that Beardsley will in some way
find out that you Yankees have taken me from my mother's house to help
your vessels through Croatan Sound, said Marcy, who little dreamed that
Captain Beardsley had been taken from his own bed for the same purpose,
and was at that very moment a prisoner in one of the boats that followed
astern. The night was so dark that Marcy could not have recognized the
man if he had looked straight at him; and if Beardsley had seen and
recognized Marcy, when the two squads came together and got into the
boats on the bank in front of his house, he had made no sign. And we may
add here that the privateer captain had not been treated by his captors
with the same kindness and consideration that Marcy received at the
hands of Mr. Watkins. The men who surrounded his house, who followed him
to his hiding-place in the cellar and dragged him out by main strength,
knew that he was a rebel who hadn't the manhood to treat his prisoners
with any degree of kindness, and when Beardsley frantically resisted
them and yelled to his darkies to put the dogs on to the Yankees, the
boatswain's mate who held him said that, if he opened his mouth again in
that fashion, he would make what little light there was in the cellar
shine straight through the captive's head. This threat kept Beardsley
quiet, and he would not have dared to say anything to Marcy if he had
had the opportunity; but he had a good deal to say about him after he
got home.
"If you whip the rebels at Roanoke Island and let me go among my friends
again, that man will make me no end of trouble," said Marcy, in
conclusion. "He will declare that I went aboard of you of my own free
will, and did all I could to help you through the Sound. It will be
pretty near the truth, but all the same I don't want the story to get
wind in the settlement."
"He is about the meanest two-for-a-cent outfit that I ever heard of,"
said Mr. Watkins, in a tone of disgust. "I am glad you told me all this,
and will be sure to bear it in mind. But yours is not the only Union
family in this country, I hope?"
Oh, no, Marcy said in reply. There were many who professed to be Union,
and as many more who had little or nothing to say about it one way or
the other. The latter were the real Union people. Some of them held
secret meetings in the swamp, and had rid Marcy's mother of the presence
of one of her meanest and most dangerous enemies by coming to her
plantation one night and carrying away the overseer. They also captured
the four men who raided his mother's house with the intention of robbing
it, and had given Marcy to understand that they were keeping a watchful
eye upon him and would punish any one who persecuted him or his mother.
While he was telling this part of his story another faint call from a
far-away sentry gave to Mr. Watkins the gratifying intelligence that
Plymouth had once more been passed in safety. Why these convenient rear
water-ways were not more closely guarded by the Plymouth garrison it is
hard to tell. Perhaps it was because they thought the Yankees would not
venture to penetrate so far inland in small boats. They learned better
when Cushing sunk the _Albemarle_.
There was little current in the river to help the cutters on their
journey, but the ebb tide presently came to their assistance, and under
its influence they went on their way with increased speed; still it was
almost daylight when Mr. Watkins's cutter and the two immediately astern
of it drew up to the gangway on the starboard quarter of Captain
Benton's vessel. The executive officer and Marcy stepped first upon the
grating, and Beardsley and the acting ensign who commanded the second
cutter followed them up the side to the deck, where Captain Benton was
waiting to receive them.
"I am aboard, sir," said Mr. Watkins, placing his hand to his cap, "and
have the honor to report that your orders have been carried out to the
letter. These are the pilots I was instructed to bring."
"Very good, sir," replied the captain.
At the word "pilots" Marcy Gray turned his head to see where and who the
other one was, and his amazement knew no bounds when he saw Captain
Beardsley's eyes looking into his own. His old commander was startled
too; for up to this moment he supposed that the object of the expedition
was to capture him alone. And if he was ill at ease to know that he was
wholly in the power of men whose flag he had insulted, he was terribly
frightened when he found himself confronted by Marcy Gray. The latter
knew too much about him and his business, for hadn't he as good as
confessed in the boy's presence that he had been a smuggler? If Marcy
remembered that fatal admission and felt in the humor to take advantage
of it, there was likely to be trouble in store for him. The man saw that
very clearly, even before the gunboat captain turned his steady gaze
upon him. Then Beardsley wished that the deck might open under his feet
and let him down into the hold. He cringed a moment, like the coward he
was, and then tried to call a smile to his face. He remembered his old
prisoner, the master of the _Mary Hollins_, and acting upon the first
thought that came into his mind, he took a step forward as if he would
have shaken hands with him; but Captain Benton turned on his heel and
walked away. This movement must have served as a signal to somebody, for
there was a slight but ominous jingling of chains close by, and the
master at arms clasped a pair of irons about Beardsley's wrists before
he could raise a finger to prevent it. The touch of the cold metal
aroused him almost to frenzy.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN BEARDSLEY "PERTESTS."]
"Take 'em off! In the name and by the authority of the Confederate
States of Ameriky I pertest agin this outrage!" yelled Beardsley, hardly
knowing what he said in his excitement. "Marcy Gray, aint I always stood
your friend and your mother's too, and are you going to keep as dumb as
an oyster while this indignity is being put upon your old cap'n? Take
the dog-gone things off, I say! I aint in the service, and you aint got
no right to slap me in irons when I aint done the first thing agin you
or your laws, either. No, I won't keep still!" roared the captain,
struggling furiously in the grasp of the sailors, who were guiding him
with no very gentle hands toward the gangway that led down to the brig.
"I'll pertest and fight as long as I have breath or strength left in me;
and when we have gained our independence, Cap'n Benton, I'll make it my
business to see that you suffer for this."
From the bottom of his heart Marcy Gray pitied the frightened,
half-crazy man who was being hurried below, but he did not draw
attention to himself by interceding in his behalf because he knew it
would do no good. Beardsley was being treated just as he had treated
Captain Benton's men; but there was no mob on the Union gunboat to whoop
and yell at him as the Newbern mob had whooped and yelled at his
prisoners when they were being taken to jail. Beardsley continued to
struggle and shout until his head disappeared below the combings of the
main-hatch, and then the racket suddenly ceased. He had not been gagged,
as Marcy feared, but he had been told that he would be if he didn't keep
still, and the threat silenced him.
Quiet having been restored Mr. Watkins said to his commander, waving his
hand in Marcy's direction:
"This young man, sir, was also on board the _Osprey_, when she made a
prize of your schooner. I think he has something to say that will
interest you. His name is Marcy Gray."
"Why, Gray was mentioned to me as a Union man," said the captain.
"And so I am," replied Marcy. "But when one is surrounded by enemies he
can't always do as he likes, and I sailed on that privateer because I
couldn't help it. If you will be kind enough to look into this valise
you will see something that will prove my words."
"He has seventeen hundred dollars in that grip, which he says belongs to
you, sir," Mr. Watkins whispered in the ear of his superior. "It is the
money he received when the _Hollins_ was condemned and sold by the
Confederate government."
Captain Benton was greatly astonished. He looked hard at Marcy for a
minute or two, and then beckoned him to come into the cabin. Seating
himself on one side of the little table that stood in the middle of the
floor he pointed to a chair on the other side, and the boy dropped into
it. The captain continued to look closely at him for another minute, and
then said:
"I don't know whether I saw you on board the _Osprey_ or not."
"I don't wonder at it, sir," answered the young pilot. "You had so many
bitter reflections to occupy your mind, about that time, that you
probably do not remember a single one of the crew with the exception of
Captain Beardsley. But I remember you, sir; and when I saw you looking
over the _Osprey's_ stern at your own vessel which was following in our
wake, I felt sorry for you. I said then that I would never spend a cent
of your money, and I never have."
While he talked in this way, Marcy took the key from his pocket and
opened his valise. The first thing he brought to light was his Union
flag, the one his Barrington girl gave him, and which, we said, in the
first volume of this series, was destined to float in triumph over the
waters that he had once sailed through in Captain Beardsley's privateer.
The glorious day we then prophesied had dawned at last! The captain
looked on in surprise when Marcy took the flag from his valise, and
shook it out so that he could see it.
"I should think your rebel neighbors, if you have any, would destroy
that banner," said he.
"We have plenty of that sort of neighbors, sir, but they never saw this
flag," answered Marcy. "I keep it hidden in one of my bedquilts, and
sleep under it every night." And, being a boy of business, he came at
once to the subject that just then was nearest his heart. "Am I to
remain on this ship when she goes into action, sir?" he inquired.
"For anything I know to the contrary, you are," the captain answered
with a smile. "Of course, that will be just as the flag-officer says.
Why do you ask?"
"Because, if I am, I wish you would do me the favor to run this flag of
mine up to your masthead," replied Marcy. "The young lady who made it
for me, and who worked upon it while her rebel relatives were asleep,
would be very much gratified if she could hear that it had been carried
to victory by a Federal ship of war."
"Well, my young friend, whether you stay aboard of us or not, that flag
of yours shall go up to our masthead. You think we are going to beat
them, do you?"
"I know it, sir," replied Marcy, so earnestly that the captain smiled
again. "If they beat you to-day, you will beat them to-morrow, or next
week. You are bound to win in the long run, and in their heart of hearts
the rebels know it."
"It does me good to hear you talk," said the captain, getting upon his
feet and pacing his cabin with his hands in his pockets. "I have been
pretty well discouraged since the fleet arrived off this coast, but you
put new life into me. Is that my money?" he added, as Marcy placed a
good-sized box upon his table. "Am I as rich as that? You handle it as
though it was heavy."
"If I haven't forgotten all my schooling, it ought to weigh close on to
ten pounds, troy," answered Marcy, throwing back the cover, so that the
captain could see the glittering contents. "If you will run it over,
sir, I think you will find it all there."
"Good gracious, my lad! Do you take me for a bank cashier? I could not
count a pile of money like that in an hour, and I have scarcely two
minutes' time at my disposal now. Steward, give us a cup of coffee, and
tell the officer of the deck to call away the gig. I shall want you to
go to the flag-ship with me. How much did that pirate get for the
_Hollins_ and her cargo, any way?"
"Fifty-six thousand dollars," answered Marcy.
"That is rather more than they would have brought in Boston," said the
captain reflectively. "And the Confederate government got half, I
suppose?"
"Yes, sir; and half the remainder was divided between Captain Beardsley
and his two mates. The other fourteen thousand were equally divided
among the sixteen members of the crew, petty officers and foremast hands
sharing alike, each one receiving eight hundred and seventy-five
dollars."
"Then how does it come that there are seventeen hundred dollars here?"
said the captain, jerking his head toward the box on the table.
"There are seventeen hundred and fifty dollars in this box to be
exact--two shares," replied Marcy. "Captain Beardsley promised to do
what he called 'the fair thing' by me if I would ship as pilot on his
schooner, and he did it by giving me eight hundred and seventy-five
dollars of your money."
"That was pretty cool, I must say. But how do you know that he did not
reward your fidelity by giving you some of his own money?"
"No, he didn't, sir!" exclaimed Marcy. "Captain Beardsley doesn't reward
anybody unless he thinks he sees a chance to make something by it, and
neither does he pay out a cent of his own when he can take what he needs
from the pockets of some one else. It is all yours, sir, and I am glad
to have the opportunity to give it to you."
"And I am glad to receive it, and to have the opportunity to shake hands
with such a young man as you are," said the captain; and suiting the
action to the word, he came around the table and gave Marcy's hand a
hearty sailor's grip.