THE ENCHANTED LOOKING-GLASS.
Things went on in this unsatisfactory way for a long time--so long, in
fact, that Hanson began to grow discouraged. And well he might, for with
all his scheming he had not been able to add a single scrap of
information to the first report he made to Colonel Shelby. The boy
Julius held manfully to his story--that Mrs. Gray was the best kind of a
Confederate, that she had no money except the dollar she carried in her
pocket-book--and the most cunningly worded cross-questioning could not
draw anything else from him. In process of time Fort _Sumter_ was fired
upon, Marcy Gray came home from school, and then the overseer rubbed his
hands joyously and told himself that he would soon know all about it.
Well, he didn't, but Julius did; and this was the way it came about.
In the ceiling of the dining-room, to which apartment the family usually
betook themselves when they had anything private to talk about, was a
stovepipe hole, communicating with a store-room on the floor above. It
happened that Julius was roaming about the house one day when Mrs. Gray
had company at dinner, and the sound of voices coming up through this
opening attracted his attention. He listened a moment, and found that he
could plainly hear every word that was uttered in the room below; but he
never would have thought of playing the part of eavesdropper if Hanson
had not told him that he was expected to do it. Believing that he could
add to his usefulness and better guard the interests of the family if he
knew more about its private affairs, Julius hastened to the store-room
the minute he saw Marcy and his mother going in to breakfast, and put
his ear directly over the open stovepipe hole, and heard some things
that made him tremble all over. There was money in the house after
all--thirty thousand dollars all in gold; it was hidden in the cellar
wall, and he could earn a nice little sum by carrying the news straight
to the overseer, as he had solemnly promised to do; but he never thought
of it. On the contrary he strove harder than ever to make Hanson believe
that there was not a dollar in the house beyond the one Mrs. Gray kept
in her pocket; because why, hadn't he heard her tell Marse Marcy so with
his own two ears? If the overseer did not say "money" during their
interviews, Julius did; but he did not dwell long enough on the subject
to arouse the man's suspicions. More than that, Julius was brave enough
to "take the bull by the horns," and one day he disheartened the
overseer by declaring:
"I seen something dis day, Marse Hanson, dat done took my breff all plum
away; I did so. Marse Marcy he come home a purpose to go into our army;
and his mother she cried and cried, and pooty quick she say: 'My deah
boy, dat man Linkum mus' be whopped; dat am de facs in de case'; and den
she slap him on de back and sick him on. Yes, sar. I done see dat wid my
own two eyes dis bery day."
The reason Hanson was disheartened was because he had been promised a
liberal reward if he could bring evidence to prove that Mrs. Gray was
opposed to secession, and that her journeys to Richmond and other cities
had been made for the purpose of drawing funds from the banks; and when
Marcy backed up the young negro's bold statement by shipping on board
Captain Beardsley's privateer, Hanson came to the sorrowful conclusion
that it was not in his power to earn that reward. He was none too good
to bear false witness against Mrs. Gray, but he was afraid to do it.
Sailor Jack might come home some day, and--well, Hanson had never seen
sailor Jack but he had been told that he was a good one to let alone.
The long-expected wanderer returned in due time, and the wide-awake
little negro was the second on the plantation to find it out, Bose being
the first. Julius slept in the back part of the house, so close to
Marcy's room that if the latter wanted anything during the night, all he
had to do was to open his window and call out, and consequently it was
no trouble at all for him to catch every word that passed between Jack
and his brother. He was not far off when the sailor was admitted at the
front door, and when he saw the reunited family go into the dining-room,
he bounded up the back stairs into the store-room and placed his ear at
the stovepipe hole--not because he wanted to repeat anything he heard,
you will understand, but because he wanted to know what subjects to
steer clear of in his interviews with the overseer. When he heard that
Jack had passed himself off for a rebel, that he had brought a smuggler
into a Southern port, and that he had made considerable money out of the
sale of his venture, Julius thought it would help matters if the news
were spread broadcast; and he lost no time in spreading it among the
negroes, and by their aid it reached Nashville before the boys went
there for their mail the next morning. He told about the _Hattie's_
adventure with the steam launch, also (of course he made it more
thrilling than it really was), and that was the way Captain Beardsley's
daughter came to know so much about it; but he never said a word
concerning Jack's short captivity in the hands of the _Sumter's_ men.
After Jack had been at home long enough to find out how things stood, he
set himself at work to learn who it was that kept certain people in the
neighborhood so well posted in regard to his mother's private affairs.
He said not a word to anybody, but worked in secret, for he believed
that his efforts would result in the unearthing of a spy who lived in
the house. It would add to his mother's troubles if she knew that Jack
believed, as she did, that there was some trusted servant who kept an
eye on her movements and went to the overseer with a report of them--so
he kept his own counsel, and laid siege to Hanson the very first thing.
The latter wasn't sharp enough to hold his own with any such fellow as
Jack Gray, and Jack learned all he cared to know about Hanson in less
than two days. The next step was to find the servant on whom the
overseer depended for his information. This looked like a hopeless task,
but fortune favored him. One morning he stood in front of the mirror in
Marcy's room performing his toilet. The door, which was behind and a
little to one side of him, was open, and the lower end of the long hall
was plainly reflected upon the polished surface of the looking-glass. So
was the slim, agile figure of the small darkey who slipped out of one of
the rooms, ran along the hall with the speed of the wind, and
disappeared down the back stairs.
"That's Julius," said Jack, whose first thought was to call the boy back
and make him give an account of himself. "He has been up to some
mischief, I'll warrant; but I will see if I can find out what it is
before hauling him over the coals."
So saying Jack stepped into the hall, and the first door he opened was
the one leading into the store-room. There was the open stovepipe hole,
and through it voices came up from the room below. He bent a little
closer to it, and distinctly heard his mother tell one of the girls to
put breakfast on the table and ring the bell for the boys. In an instant
the whole secret flashed upon him. He said not a word, but as soon as he
returned from the post-office, and Marcy had ridden to the field to
carry some instructions to the overseer, Jack went up to his room,
leaving orders with one of the girls to send Julius there at once. When
he came, the first thing Jack did was to lock the door and put the key
in his pocket.
"Now, Julius," said he, in his most solemn tones, his face at the same
time taking on a fierce frown, "if you are an innocent boy, if you have
been strictly honest and truthful ever since I have been at sea, if you
have obeyed your mistress and kept your hands off things that do not
belong to you----"
"Oh, Marse Jack," exclaimed the frightened boy. "Suah hope to die I
nevah----"
"Don't interrupt me," commanded Jack, with a still more savage frown.
"I'll show you in a minute that I have it in my power to find out just
what you have done while I have been gone, from the time you stole----"
"Marse Jack, I nevah took dat breastpin; suah hope to die if I did,"
began Julius.
"Hal-lo!" thought Jack. "I've got on to something when I least expected
it. That's what comes of knowing how to handle a darkey. I didn't even
know that mother had lost a breastpin."
"I haven't asked you whether you stole it or not," he said, aloud.
"There is no need that I should ask you any questions, for I have a way
of finding out everything I want to know. If you have been an honest,
truthful boy during the last two years, sit down in that chair; but I
warn you that if you are deceiving me, it will drop to pieces with you
and let you down on the floor. Sit down!"
"Oh, Marse Jack," cried the darkey, backing away from the chair. "Don't
I done tol' you dat I didn't took it?"
"Do you stick to that story?" demanded Jack.
"Yes, sar. I stick to it till I plum dead."
"All right. I hope you are telling me the truth, and I'll very soon find
out whether you are or not. The Yankees are coming right through this
country some day, and I don't want to give you up to them, as I am
afraid I shall have to do. You have heard Aunt Mandy tell her
pickaninnies what awful fellows the Yankees are, have you not? Why,
Julius, it scares me to think of them. If a live Yankee was in this room
this minute,--don't get behind me, for I wouldn't try to help you if one
should walk in and carry you off,--if one came in and sat down in that
chair that will fall to pieces if you touch it, and you should take off
his hat and his right boot, you would find that he had horns and a
cloven hoof--a hoof like an ox instead of a foot like yours."
"Look a hyar, Marse Jack," exclaimed Julius, clinging to the sailor with
one trembling hand while he pointed toward the wash-stand with the
other. "Wha--wha' you doing da'? Wha' dat white stuff for?"
While Jack was telling the boy what terrible fellows the Yankees were
supposed to be, he had slowly and solemnly filled a goblet with water
from the pitcher, and then in the same solemn and deliberate way drew
forth his ditty-bag and took from it a small bottle containing a
harmless-looking white powder known to the druggists as citrate of
magnesia. He held it at arm's length as if he were afraid of it, and
that made Julius so weak with terror that he could scarcely keep his
feet.
"Do you want to know what--look out for yourself, now! If it explodes
when I remove the cork, look out! Do you want to know what this is?"
said Jack. "Then I must whisper the words to you, for it would never do
to say them out loud. It is my enchanted looking-glass--my fetich--my
voodoo charm."
That was too much for Julius. With a wild scream he jumped for the door;
but it was locked, and he could not get out.
"Now watch," continued Jack, who knew that he would get at the truth of
the whole matter in a minute more. "To begin with, I shall command my
enchanted looking-glass to show me the likeness of the villain who stole
that breastpin; and in the next, I shall tell it to show me the place
where it is now. Now, stand by to look in and tell me who you see
there."
He poured a small portion of the white powder into the goblet, whose
contents at once began to bubble and boil in the most unaccountable
manner. When the water boiled up to the top and ran over on the
wash-stand, Jack commanded Julius to look in and tell him what he saw
there; but the boy sprang away and curled himself up on the floor in the
farthest corner of the room.
"Come here!" said Jack sternly. "You won't? Then I'll look myself. Ah!
What is this I see? Julius, come here this instant and tell me who this
is."
Jack emphasized the order by taking the negro by the back of the neck
and lifting him to his feet; but he soon found that he could not hold
him there without the use of more strength than he cared to put forth.
Julius was like an eel in his grasp. As fast as he raised him from the
floor he would somehow manage to slip back again; and all the while he
begged and pleaded so loudly that Jack was forced to desist for fear
that his mother would hear the uproar, and come to the door to ask what
was the matter.
"You are afraid to look in that goblet and you dare not sit in the
chair," said Jack at length. "That proves that you did take the pin. Now
where is it? If I have to fill my enchanted glass again, I'll make you
look in it whether you want to or not. Where is it?"
[Illustration: THE ENCHANTED LOOKING-GLASS.]
"De oberseer got it," was the reply that made the sailor wonder whether
he was awake or dreaming. "Suah's you born, de oberseer done made me gib
it to him."
Jack had not the least doubt of it, but in order to test the boy's
sincerity, he told him to sit down in the chair, assuring him, at the
same time, that he had nothing to fear. As he had atoned for his guilt
by making a confession, the chair would hold him up as it would anybody
else. Julius tremblingly obeyed, and when he found that the chair really
did support him, he gained courage, and with a little questioning told
the whole story pretty nearly as we have told it, with this difference:
He omitted some important items which we have been obliged to explain in
order to make the narrative clear to the reader. It was a very nice
scheme, Jack told himself, but he had not yet got the game as completely
in his own hands as he determined to have it.
"Julius," said he impressively, "do you know what will happen to you if
you fail to prove the truth of this most remarkable tale? You'll be sold
down South before the week is over. A darkey who has been as carefully
brought up as you have wouldn't last long in the cotton fields."
"But, Marse Jack," said Julius earnestly, "I kin prove dat I ain't tole
you nuffin but the gospel truth. I kin fotch you de pin; but you musn't
luff de oberseer whop me."
"He shall not put a hand on you," Jack assured him. "Keep away from the
quarter, take no more reports to him, and I will stand between you and
all harm."
As he said this he unlocked the door, and the darkey disappeared like a
flash. He was gone about half an hour, and when he returned he handed
Jack the breastpin, which was wrapped in a piece of newspaper. The
overseer being away in the field and his cabin unlocked, it was a matter
of no difficulty for the darkey to rummage his bureau drawers until he
found the object of which he was in search. Whether or not Hanson ever
discovered that he had been robbed of the "charm" that gave him such
power over Julius, Jack never knew. If he did, he never said a word
about it while he remained on that plantation.
But this was not the only good work Jack Gray did during the first two
weeks he passed at home. When the _West Wind_ was a day out from Boston,
he accidentally learned that one of his best foremast hands was a
resident of his own State, and that his father, who was a strong Union
man, lived but an hour's ride from Nashville. Of course the two became
friends at once. All the lightest and easiest jobs about deck seemed to
fall into Aleck Webster's hands, and Jack won the good will of his mess
by taking it upon himself to see that their food was not only abundant,
but that it was well-cooked and properly served. They talked over the
situation as often as they could get together, and not knowing just how
matters stood at home they concluded that they had better not recognize
each other after they reached Newbern. If, after they had passed a few
days at their respective homes, they thought it safe to do so, they
could very easily bring about a meeting, and who could tell but that
they might find opportunity to work together for the good of the old
flag, or for the relief of some persecuted Unionist? Jack knew of one
Unionist who was persecuted by being watched by rebel neighbors, and
that one was his mother. He and Webster met at the post-office one
morning, but they met as strangers. In fact his shipmate was a stranger
to all present, for his father, who was a small farmer, had moved into
that section from Georgia while Aleck was at sea. Having the misfortune
to be a "cracker," or a poor white, Mr. Webster was rather looked down
on by such men as Colonel Shelby and Major Dillon, but Jack Gray was not
that sort. Aleck was a good sailor, and such a man was worth more in a
gale at sea than a landsman who could call upon his bank account for a
hundred thousand dollars.
During his first interview with his old shipmate Jack Gray heard some
things that made him open his eyes. It was true, as he afterward told
Marcy, that the Union men in the neighborhood were few in number, and
that they dared not say out loud that their souls were their own; but
they were well organized, and by no means afraid to follow the example
set them by the rebels, and act in secret. Aleck said that there were
about twenty of them all told, and no one could join their company
unless he was vouched for by every man in it. They calculated to defend
themselves and one another. They would not go into the Confederate
service, and if they were crowded upon too closely they would take to
the swamps and fight it out with any force that might be sent against
them. They were well armed and resolute, and Aleck said they would be in
just the right humor to deal with Hanson's case when it was brought to
their notice at their next meeting.
"My mother rather took me to task because I helped that smuggler into
port, but if you can give me the assurance that these Union men will
stand between her and that cowardly overseer she's got on the place, I
shall be glad I became a smuggler for the time being," said Jack.
"I can give you that assurance, Mr. Gray," said Aleck positively.
"That's just what the company, or society, or whatever you have a mind
to call it, was got together for. I know, because I was present at their
last meeting, and the whole thing was explained to me before I took the
oath to stand by it. Why can't you come down and join us?"
"We're not on board ship now, and my name is Jack. There's no Mister
about it," was the reply. "I am in full sympathy with you and with the
object for which you have been brought together, and if I was going to
stay at home I should surely ask you to hand in my name. But my mother
will be defenseless when I go into the navy and Marcy leaves to join
that blockade-runner, and if Shelby and Beardsley and Hanson should find
out that I knew there was an organization like yours in existence, they
would burn up everything we've got. We can't discharge Hanson without
bringing ourselves into serious trouble; and if you fellows could think
up some way to drive him off the place, and bring old Beardsley home so
that my brother wouldn't have to go blockade running any more, you would
make us all your everlasting debtors."
"If you wanted to write to this Captain Beardsley you would address him
at Newbern, wouldn't you? All right. We meet somewhere in the woods next
Wednesday night, and then we will talk it over and see what can be done
for you."
Jack Gray always was light-hearted and jolly, no matter whether things
worked to suit him or not; but Marcy and his mother thought they had
never seen him quite so much at peace with himself and all the world as
he appeared to be after this interview with Aleck Webster. If those
Union men were in earnest and did what his shipmate thought they
certainly would do, there might be a fight right there on the
plantation; and that was the reason Jack did not take his mother into
his confidence. To quote from Marcy, she had enough to trouble her
already. If the attempt to drive the overseer from the place was made
and resulted in failure, it would probably lead to some vigorous action
on the part of Colonel Shelby and his friends; and that was the reason
Jack did not tell Marcy of it. If a difficulty arose, he wanted Marcy to
be able to say that he did not know a thing about it. But this
particular night might be the last one he would ever spend with his
brother, and he thought it prudent to make a clean breast of the
matter.
"That is my story," said Jack, in conclusion. "What do you think of
it?"
"I think you have worked to some purpose," replied Marcy, who could not
yet understand how Jack had done all this without his knowledge. "But
there is one thing you have yet to explain. You told me that I need not
go back to the _Hattie_ if I don't want to. I certainly do not want to,
but how shall I get out of it?"
This was the way Jack explained that. On the Thursday morning following
the day on which he held his first interview with Aleck Webster, he met
him again, and the young fellow had startling news for him. After the
two had seated themselves on a low fence a little way from the store,
Aleck fastened his gaze upon a paper he held in his hand and said:
"It is just as I told you it would be. Our men were all mad when I told
them that Unionists, and women at that, were being mistreated right here
under their very noses, and them setting around like bumps on a log and
doing nothing to stop it, and it's my private opinion that if that
overseer of your'n had been handy last night, they would have used him
rough. He'll get out; I can promise you that."
"Well, look here, Aleck. My brother is going to take me down to the
blockading fleet in a few days, and I wish you wouldn't make a move
until we are gone. Then folks can't say we had a hand in it or knew
anything about it."
"Very good, sir. We'll look out for that. And perhaps you and your
brother will be glad to learn that Captain Beardsley will be warned
to-day that if he don't quit blockade running and bringing in supplies
for the Confederacy, he will miss some of his buildings when he gets
back."
"That will bring him sure," said Jack gleefully. "You can't touch him in
a worse place than his pocket. But you didn't say anything about his
forcing Marcy into the rebel service, did you? For if you did, he'll
bounce my folks the minute he gets home."
"If he tries it, may be he'll miss some more buildings when he gets up
in the morning," said Aleck.
"But he'll not let you or anybody know that he is working against them,"
said Jack. "He's too sharp for that."
"If anything happens to your folks we will lay it to him and act
accordingly," said Aleck, with a laugh. "But the man who was told to
write that letter to Beardsley will take care to word it so that he
can't lay the blame on any one person's shoulders. You tell your brother
that if he doesn't want to go blockade running again, he needn't go; for
his schooner is about to quit the business."
"Do I know any of those Union men?" inquired Marcy.
"Probably you are acquainted with all of them, but they will make no
sign," replied Jack. "The only one I know is Aleck Webster. I tell you
it was a lucky thing for all of us when Captain Frazier took me aboard
the _West Wind._ Now you take charge of this pin, and when the agony is
all over, when Beardsley has been brought home and Hanson has been taken
care of, give it to mother and tell her how you came by it. Perhaps the
story will prove as interesting to her as I hope it has been to you.
Now, let's go into the house. She will wonder what is keeping us out so
long."