CHAPTER XVII.

MARCY TAKES TO THE SWAMP.

The little darky was not very badly frightened on his own account--he

never got that way unless he saw or heard something he could not

understand--but he was overwhelmed with anxiety for Marcy Gray, who had

not yet left the presence of his mother. Julius believed that the

dwelling had been surrounded by the Home Guards while he was stowing the

valise and blankets in the boat, and if that proved to be the case,

Marcy would in all probability start for Williamston jail instead of the

swamp. The black boy thought of these things in an instant of time, and

did what he could to upset the plans of the Home Guards by yelling at

the top of his voice.

"Keep still, you little fule," said Beardsley, in an angry whisper.

"Nobody's going to hurt you."

"Aint, hey?" exclaimed a second man, who at that moment came upon the

scene. "I'll hurt him to-morrow, I bet you; I'll have him brung into the

field; and he has heard me talk often enough to know what them words

mean."

Just then Julius succeeded in freeing himself from Beardsley's grasp,

and it was well for him that he did so, for the man had almost smothered

him by holding his nose between his thumb and fore-finger at the same

time that he covered his mouth with the rest of his hand. The negro

gasped once or twice, and then sank to the ground like a piece of wet

rope.

"All right. Let him lay there till he gets ready to get up," said

Captain Beardsley. "Where's the men? Where's Shelby!"

"The men started on a run for the house the minute that black villain

yelled," replied Hanson; for he was the one who came to Beardsley's

assistance. "Shelby is round on the other side watching the back door,

and he sent me to see what the fursing was about. Now I'll go back and

tell him."

"And be sure that you and him keep out of sight when Marcy is brought

out," cautioned Beardsley. "You don't want to let him get a sight at ary

one of you, for there's no telling when he will have the power on his

own side."

The overseer hastened away, trusting more to the darkness than to the

bushes in the yard to conceal him from Mrs. Gray's view and Marcy's,

should either of them chance to look out at the window, and the captain

moved a few steps nearer to the carriage-way, so that he could look at

the house through the branches of an evergreen. When he first peeped out

the front windows were all dark; but presently lights began to appear

here and there, heavy steps and loud angry voices were heard in the

house, and finally the front door opened, and a man, carrying a lighted

lamp in his hand, came out and walked the whole length of it. Captain

Beardsley was surprised, and he felt uncomfortable, too. If the boy of

whom they were in search was in the house he ought to have been

discovered before this time; and if he had escaped, where could he have

gone unless it was to Plymouth or to the Union men who were hidden in

the swamp? If he had gone to either place Captain Beardsley knew it

meant the loss of more buildings to him and Colonel Shelby.

"And if he's went off it is bekase some traitor or 'nother in our

company told him he'd better," soliloquized Beardsley, when he saw the

lights shining from the windows of the upper rooms. "Julius, come here.

I want to ask you something."

The black boy had by this time recovered his breath and strength enough

to sit up. He had all his wits about him, and was as much interested in

what was going on in the house as Captain Beardsley himself. He saw the

lights ascend from the lower rooms to those in the second story, and

finally he saw them in the garret and in the observatory on the roof;

and when no shout of triumph, or any sound to indicate that there was a

disturbance in the house, came to his ears to tell him that his master

had been traced to his hiding-place and captured, the wild hope seized

upon him that Marcy, in some mysterious manner, had succeeded in eluding

the Home Guards. If that was the case he would of course make the best

of his way to the boat; and if he got there before Julius did he would

shove off alone, and Julius would be left behind to labor under the lash

of the overseer. He thought he would rather die than do that, but how

could he escape from Beardsley and reach the creek in time to meet Marcy

there? When he heard the captain calling to him he got upon his feet and

approached the carriage-way, just as Beardsley bent his head almost to

the ground, to watch a light that was shining from one of the cellar

windows. He held that position for a moment, and then a roar like that

of a thousand Niagaras rang in his ears and all was blank to him. He

sank limp and motionless to the ground, while Julius took to his heels

and disappeared through the gate. Half an hour later, when the Home

Guards came out of the house without finding Marcy Gray or anything that

could be used as evidence against him, they were astounded and greatly

alarmed to find Captain Beardsley lying unconscious in the carriageway.

And where was Marcy all this time! When the black boy's first note of

warning fell upon his ear he was imprinting a farewell kiss upon his

mother's lips and giving her a last embrace; but they fell apart

instantly when they heard that wild cry, for they knew what it meant.

"There they are!" gasped Mrs. Gray. "Marcy, I am afraid I have detained

you too long."

"You have not kept me a moment," said Marcy quickly, "for I was no more

anxious to go than you were to have me. Keep them in the house as long

as you can, and I will go into the cellar and try to slip through one of

the windows into the garden. Poor Julius will be broken-hearted when he

finds that I went without him. Once more good-by, and don't expect to

see me under a week."

[Illustration: JULIUS GIVES THE ALARM.]

Pressing as the need for haste was, Marcy snatched another farewell kiss

and ran out of the room, taking care not to pass between a window and a

lamp that stood on the centre-table. He caught his cap from the rack as

he hurried through the hall, and in less time than it takes to tell it,

was standing before an open cellar window, waiting and listening. His

ears told him when the Home Guards charged upon the house and entered it

through the back and side doors, and believing that the sentries, if

there had been any posted outside, would be wholly engrossed with what

was going on in the dwelling, he seized upon that particular moment to

make his attempt at escape. Slowly and carefully he crawled up into the

window, and when he raised his head above the ground all he could see

were bushes and trees and a starlit sky, and all he could hear was the

murmur of voices in the sitting-room. If the doors were guarded, as it

was reasonable to suppose they were, this particular cellar window was

not, and Marcy made haste to crawl out of it and across an intervening

flower-bed to the friendly shelter of a thicket of bushes beyond. He did

not linger there an instant, but taking it for granted that Ben Hawkins

was with the Home Guards, and remembering that the man had promised to

see that they behaved themselves while they were in his mother's house,

he started at once for the creek, crawling on his hands and knees until

he was sure he had passed beyond the sentries that he thought ought to

have been left in the yard, and then he sprang up and ran like a deer.

He hardly knew when he reached the fence, over which he went as easily

as though he had been furnished with wings, but he knew when he halted

on the bank of the creek and caught Julius in the act of shoving off

with the boat. Thinking only of Captain Beardsley and the overseer and

his whip, the frightened black boy could not be prevailed upon to stop

until he had pushed the boat to the middle of the stream, where he felt

comparatively safe; and then he looked over his shoulder to see who his

pursuer was.

"Why, honey!" he exclaimed, as he got out the oars and backed the boat

toward the place where Marcy was standing. "Was dat you? What you doin'

hyar? How come dey don't cotch you in de house?"

"Come here quick, and take me on board," replied Marcy; and he

continued, as he stepped into the stern of the boat and picked up the

paddle he had provided for a steering oar: "What do you mean by trying

to desert me in this fashion; and was that you yelling a while ago?"

"Yes sar, Marse Mahcy, it was Julius done dat yellin', an' I done it

kase I aint want Cap'n Beardsley to cotch you in de house," answered the

boy, as he laid out his strength on the oars, and sent the boat swiftly

away from the bank.

"Are you sure that Beardsley was with those men?" asked Marcy earnestly.

"Think twice before you speak, or you may be the means of making me do

something that I shall be sorry for as long as I live."

"Julius don't need to think no two times 'fore he answer dat question.

De cap'n was dar, an' so was de oberseer. I know, kase de cap'n squoze

my arm till it blacker' n my skin. An' de oberseer 'low to take me to de

field in de mawnin'."

"If Beardsley had you by the arm how did you manage to get away from

him?" said Marcy, who had good reason for wishing to be sure of his

ground.

"Well, sar, moster, I buck him; dat's de way I got loose from de cap'n.

He scrooch down dis a way, so he kin look in de suller." said Julius,

bending forward until his back was nearly on a level with the gunwales

of the boat, "an' I whack him behine de ear, an' he drap so quick he

don't know what hit him. Dat's de troof, sure's you born."

Marcy did not doubt it, for if Beardsley had been foolish enough to

place himself in that position while Julius was within reach of him, the

black boy could have knocked him senseless without any trouble at all.

He was the acknowledged champion "bucker" of the neighborhood, and had

been known to do such things. The most pugnacious among the little

darkies would scream out in terror, and seek safety in flight, if Julius

raised one foot from the ground and hopped toward him on the other with

his head lowered threateningly, and there was not one among them with a

head hard enough to stand against him for a moment if Julius succeeded

in catching him by the ears. He could double up the strongest negro on

the plantation by butting him in the pit of the stomach, and he would do

it if one of them incurred his displeasure, even though he had to wait a

month to find his opportunity. And he told nothing but the truth when he

said that he had knocked Captain Beardsley down in that way. All he

wanted now was a chance at the overseer. He knew that Mrs. Gray and

Marcy did not want him on the place, and consequently Julius did not

think he would be punished for butting him "good fashion."

"Did Beardsley or Hanson say anything about me?" was Marcy's next

question.

"All I heard de cap'n say was dat de oberseer an' Shelby want to watch

out dat you don't see 'em when you come out'n de house," replied Julius.

"Dey don't want you to know dey was dar."

Julius gave way strong on the oars and Marcy steered the boat, listened

for sounds of pursuit, and thought over the situation. He made up his

mind to one thing before he had left the house fairly out of sight, and

that was that Captain Beardsley and Colonel Shelby would be sorry that

they had had anything to do with the Home Guards. His patience was all

gone now, and every move they made should be met by a counter-movement

on his own part. He thought he knew the name of every man in the

company, and he would take pains to see that the Federal commander at

Plymouth knew them also and where they lived; and while he was waiting

for the Yankees to do something he would do something himself, beginning

that very night.

Having at last satisfied himself that the Home Guards were not pursuing

him, Marcy dismissed them from his mind for the present, his actions

indicating that he was looking for some object he expected to find in

the creek in advance of him. He was searching for Beardsley's schooner,

and was so long in finding it that he began to fear her owner had stolen

a march upon him by towing her from the creek to a safer hiding-place.

But the captain evidently thought she could not be in any safer berth

than the one she had always occupied in the creek in front of his house,

for there was where Marcy found her, as he was on the point of giving up

the search and telling Julius to pull for Middle River the best he knew

how, for there was a man waiting for them there.

"It seems a pity to destroy a fine vessel like this," said Marcy, as

Julius caught the fore chains and allowed the current to swing the boat

broadside to the _Hattie_.

"Well, den, what for dat rebel burn all dem fine ships out on de watah

like Marse Jack tell about?" demanded Julius. "An' what for de cap'n

brung all dem Home Gyards to de house to cotch you an' tote you off to

jail?"

With all Beardsley's persecutions so fresh in his mind, Marcy Gray did

not stand upon the order of going to work but went at once. Before

Julius ceased speaking he was over the schooner's rail, with a bag of

"fat" wood in one hand and an axe in the other. The hatches were

fastened down of course, and the door that gave entrance to the cabin

was locked; but the latter yielded to a single heavy blow with the axe,

and Marcy went in and emptied his bag of kindling wood upon the floor.

Then he piled upon it everything he found in the cabin that he could

move, including the slats in the bunks, the tables and chairs, and the

doors that he could tear from their hinges. Over all he poured a couple

of quarts of oil from bottles that he had brought with him for the

purpose, and set fire to it in three or four different places. He waited

until he saw the work of destruction fairly begun, and then ran on deck

and dropped into the boat.

"Now set me ashore at the foot of that poplar to which the breast-line

is made fast," said he. "I want Beardsley to know who did this work, and

why it was done. But of course he knows without any telling."

"Hi yi, Marse Mahcy, she gwine go right up in de elemunts!" cried

Julius, as a cloud of smoke, which was brightly illumined by the fire

that was blazing beneath, came pouring out of the cabin-door.

"I think I made a sure thing of it," answered Marcy. "Of course she will

burn readily, for everything in the cabin is covered with paint or

varnish. We can't get away from here any too quick. Hurry up."

It did not take Julius more than two minutes to row around the stern of

the schooner to the tree to which the breast-line was fastened, nor did

it take Marcy longer than that to spring ashore and place upon a

neighboring tree, in a conspicuous position where it would be sure to

catch the eye of the first man who passed that way, the note which he

had written that afternoon while his mother was packing his valise. It

was addressed to Captain Beardsley, and ran as follows:

This is to pay you for the share you had in bringing Hanson

back to our plantation, and in organizing the Home Guards to

take me to Williamston Jail. This is the first payment on a

big debt I owe you and Colonel Shelby. If you do not wish

any more like it take Hanson away from our place at once and

keep him away; and furthermore, keep everybody else away

from there. You are on a false scent, and so long as you

follow it, so long will you continue to lose property. There

is no large sum of money in or around the house. When you

become satisfied of that fact perhaps you will cease

troubling my mother.

Placing this note on the side of the tree opposite the fire so that it

would not be scorched by the heat, and fastening it there with three or

four wooden pins so that the wind would not blow it away, Marcy ran back

to the boat, and Julius once more pushed out into the stream. He turned

to look behind him every few minutes, but the boat was pulled into

Middle River, and perhaps two or three miles down its swift current

toward the coast, before he saw any signs of the fire he had left

behind; and at the moment his eye caught its first faint reflection on

the clouds, he heard a cautious hail from the bank.

"Boat ahoy!" came through the darkness in tones that were just loud

enough to attract his attention.

"Who is it?" demanded Marcy, picking up the loaded gun that lay beside

him in the stern-sheets. "Way enough, Julius."

"Mebbe dat aint de man you want see," replied the boy, handling the oars

as if he meant to turn the boat toward the opposite bank.

"I am Aleck Webster's father," said the voice, in answer to Marcy's

question. "Ben Hawkins sent me here to show you the way to our camp."

"When did you see Hawkins?" inquired Marcy.

"This afternoon; and he told me that the Home Guards were likely to

drive you away from home to-night. It's all right, Mister Marcy."

The latter was so sure of it that he at once turned the boat toward the

point from which the voice came (the night was so dark that he could not

see anything but bushes and trees on the bank), and in two minutes more

was standing by Mr. Webster's side. The man pointed toward the bright

spot on the clouds and said, in a voice that Marcy recognized this

time:

"Are the Home Guards out to-night?"

"Oh, yes; they're out, and came to my mother's house, or I shouldn't be

here now. But they didn't set anything on fire so far as I know."

"Then whose work is that? There's something burning off that way."

"It is the work of _Marcy, the Refugee_. That's I. After persecuting me

for months in every way he could think of, Beardsley has driven me from

home at last, and I set fire to his schooner to pay him for it."

"I am a refugee myself," replied Mr. Webster. "And there's my hand,

which says that I will stand your friend as long as you need one. If the

Home Guards had been organized a few weeks sooner Aleck would not have

left us old men and boys to fight our battles alone. But he had an idea

that the presence of the Yankees on the coast would serve as a

protection to us; and there's where he was wrong. If we don't do

something at once, they will follow us into the swamp and kill or

capture the last one of us. That fight in Hampton Roads put life and

energy into them."

"I don't see why it should. They got the worst of it."

"Are you sure?" exclaimed Mr. Webster. "I heard that we got the worst of

it; that some of our best ships were sunk or burned."

"Will it be quite safe for us to stop here long enough to have a snack?"

said Marcy. "Then, Julius, you may hand out that brown basket; the one

with the napkin spread over the top. I'm hungry, and I suppose you are,

Mr. Webster, for you have walked from your home since Hawkins saw you

this afternoon. By the way, where is Hawkins now?"

"He will hang around the settlement as long as he can, and take to the

woods only when he sees that preparations are being made to compel him

to go back to the army. Didn't you see him with the Home Guards

to-night?"

Marcy replied that he did not see anybody, for he ran before the Home

Guards came into the house. If Hawkins was with them, as he had promised

to be, Marcy was satisfied that no indignity had been offered to his

mother.

By this time Julius had made the boat fast to a tree on the bank and

come ashore with the lunch; and while Marcy and his new friend were

eating the cold bread and meat he passed over to them, the former gave a

true history of that battle in Hampton Roads as he learned it from the

papers Captain Barrows left with him. Then he gave a short account of

his experience and dealings with Captain Beardsley, so that the man

might know just how much reason he had to stand in fear of him, and

finally he inquired how many men there were in Mr. Webster's party, and

where and how they lived. He learned that there was an even score of

them now, seven of their number (one of whom was Ben Hawkins) being

paroled prisoners, who declared that they would fight rather than go

back to the army. It had been the habit of the original members of the

band to go into the woods whenever they desired to talk about things

that they didn't want their rebel neighbors to know; but ever since they

heard of the Home Guards, whose avowed object it was to send all the

Union men they could find to Williamston Jail, they had become refugees

in earnest, some of them having taken up their permanent abode in the

camp. Those who had families to look out for now and then visited their

homes during the daytime; but judging by the way things looked now, that

small privilege would soon be denied them.

"And when it comes so that we can't see our folks for fear of being

shot, or marched off to jail, we'll take to visiting them in the

nighttime," said Mr. Webster, in concluding his story. "And if we have

to do that, we'll light fires to show us the way back to camp."

Having disposed of a good share of the contents of the brown basket, Mr.

Webster declared that it was time for them to start for the camp, which

was located in one of Captain Beardsley's wood lots, and not more than

five miles away. He said that, as long as Captain Beardsley continued to

trouble him and his friends, they would sleep on his grounds, warm

themselves and cook their meals over fires built with wood that was cut

from his trees, steal his corn meal and bacon, and shoot his hogs as

often as they came within range of the camp. Mr. Webster's canoe was

close by, and when he stepped into it he fastened the painter of Marcy's

boat to a cleat in the stern, so that the two little crafts would not

become separated in the darkness. It might require some talking to bring

them together again, and they did not want to do much of that until they

were safe in camp. As they shoved off from the bank they took a last

look at that bright spot on the clouds, which had been growing brighter

and larger every moment since it appeared, bearing unmistakable

testimony to the destructive work that was going on beneath it. If the

fire had attracted the attention of the Home Guards (and Marcy did not

see how it could be otherwise), they did not reach the creek in time to

save the schooner. Marcy wondered what Captain Beardsley's feelings were

about that time.

Marcy, the Refugee · 第 17 / 18 章