CHAPTER XVIII._Marcy the Blockade Runner

CONCLUSION.

As soon as the schooner was straightened on her course so that Marcy

could manage her with one hand, he came aft and took the wheel.

"Go below and hide that Union flag," said he. "These rebels may not be

as easily satisfied this time as they were when we went down, and if

they send a boat aboard of us I don't want them to find anything. I

don't care to know where you put the flag. All you have to do is to hide

it where we can find it again when we want it."

Julius was gone not more than five minutes, and when he returned to take

the wheel Marcy walked forward, carrying in his hand one of the Newbern

papers which he had folded and twisted, newsboy fashion, so that it

could be thrown a considerable distance.

The first thing that attracted his attention, after the _Fairy Belle_

passed the foot of the island, was a steamer, whose crew were busy

adding to the obstructions that had already been placed in Croatan

Sound. But there was a wide clear space close under the guns of Fort

Bartow, and into this Julius held his way, passing so near the steamer

that Marcy was able to throw his paper among the crew.

"Newbern," he shouted to the Confederate officer, who flicked up the

paper and waved his thanks. "It isn't a very late one, but it was the

best I could do."

That blockade had been run in safety, but when they reached the head of

the island Marcy found himself menaced by another danger which he was

afraid could not be so easily passed. One of Commodore Lynch's gunboats

was lying there, and when she saw the schooner approaching, she sent one

of her boats off to intercept her. Marcy's hair began to stand on end.

"What have you done with that Union flag, Julius?" he asked.

"Now, jes' listen at you," replied the boy. "What for you want dat flag

now? It hang you, suah."

"I only wished to be assured that you had it safe," said Marcy, as he

ran into the cabin to bring up another paper; and when he returned with

it, he shook it at the men in the boat and beckoned them to come

alongside, Just as if he didn't know that that was what they intended to

do. As the small boat came nearer and began to swing broadside to the

schooner, Marcy raised his hand and Julius spilled the sails.

"You needn't stop," said the young master's mate, who sat in the

stern-sheets. "Throw us a line and we'll tow alongside. Our old man had

a little curiosity to know who you are, where you have been, and where

you belong. Thanks for the paper. What's the news?"

"I didn't get any," replied Marcy. "I saw one Yankee cruiser riding at

anchor off the coast, and also saw one blockade-runner come in. What

sort of a cargo she brought I don't know, for I didn't exchange a word

with any of her crew."

"What's the matter with your hand?" inquired the master's mate.

"De Yankees done guv him dat hand, sar," said Julius promptly. "Dey done

knock him 'mos dead wid a shell."

"The Yankees!" exclaimed the young rebel. "Are you in the service?"

"I was running the blockade when I was hurt," answered Marcy. "But I

wasn't hit by a shell. I was knocked down by a heavy splinter."

"Pass us down your other flipper," said the officer, standing up in his

boat and extending his hand. "I am glad to meet you. When you get the

use of your arm again come aboard of us. We need men, and I know the

captain will be glad to take you."

"He got one brother in de navy now," added Julius, who thought that

Marcy wasn't trying half hard enough to make the boat's crew believe

that he was loyal to the flag that waved above him.

"Is that so? Then if he comes in himself that will make two, won't it?

Well, I will detain you no longer. Come aboard of us if you can, for we

think we are going to see fun here in the course of a few weeks. Good-by

till I see you again. Shove off, for'ard."

"Julius, I am afraid you talk too much," said Marcy, when the boat was

left out of hearing. "If you don't keep still you may get me into

trouble."

"Look a yere, Marse Marcy," said Julius, "Marse Jack done tol' me it

plum time for me to stan' by to tell what's de troof, an' I ain't done

nuffin else sence he tol' me dat. De Yankees did guv you dat hand, you

done got one brother in de navy, an' dat's all I tol' dat rebel. I

didn't say you a rebel you'self, kase dat would be a plum lie; an' all

de black ones knows it."

At the end of two hours a bend in the shore hid the island and Commodore

Lynch's gunboat from view, and as night was drawing on apace, Marcy

began looking around for a suitable spot in which to tie up for the

night. He knew better than to try to pass Plymouth after dark. The

countersign would be out, and not only would he be obliged to go ashore

to get it, but he would also be compelled to land to _give_ it to every

sentry on the bank. That would be a good deal of trouble and might prove

to be dangerous as well. It would give the soldiers off duty a chance to

board the schooner, and that was something Marcy did not want them to

do. They would go all over her, peeping into every locker and corner,

steal everything they could get into their pockets or put under their

coats, and one of them might accidentally find that Union flag. For

these reasons Marcy thought it best to lie by for the night.

"It will bring us home in broad daylight, Julius, and some of the

servants will be sure to see you when you leave the schooner to take me

ashore," said he. "So the story you made up to tell them about running

away to the swamp, will have to be changed to something else. It would

have to be changed any way, for of course Captain Beardsley saw you when

he ran by us at the mouth of the inlet."

"I been thinkin' 'bout dat," answered Julius, "an' I going to tell

nuffin but de troof. Dat's de bes'. I was stowed away on de schooner,

an' you nevah knowed it till you come off in de mawnin' an' cotch me."

Marcy said nothing more, for he did not believe that either of them

could tell a story that would save them from the trouble that Captain

Beardsley would surely try to bring upon himself and his mother. He

would take Jack's advice and lose no time in seeking an interview with

Aleck Webster.

Marcy easily found a hiding-place for the night, and bright and early

the next morning set out to run the last of the blockade--the garrison

at Plymouth. This was accomplished without any trouble at all, the depth

of the water permitting Julius to hold so close in that Marcy could

throw his last Newbern paper ashore. The soldiers scrambled for it as if

it had been a piece of gold, and shouted for him to send off some more;

but Marcy could truthfully say that he had no more, the garrison at

Roanoke Island having got the others. The Northern papers were too

precious to be given to rebels. Those were to be saved for his mother.

In due time the _Fairy Belle_ reached the mouth of Seven Mile Creek, the

sails were hauled down, and Julius, with such slim aid as Marcy could

give him with one hand, began the work of towing her to her moorings. It

took them two hours to do this. When Marcy had seen her made fast to her

buoy he did not get out of the skiff, but sent Julius aboard the

schooner with instructions to put both the flags and the Northern papers

into his valise and hand it over the side. To his great surprise there

was not even a pickaninny on the bank to say, "Howdy, Marse Marcy?" and

he usually found them out in full force whenever he returned from his

sailing trips. Presently Julius got into the skiff to row him ashore,

and followed him to the house carrying the valise in his hand; but even

when they passed through the gate they did not see a person about the

premises, nor a dog, neither. Bose seemed to have "holed up" the same as

the rest. The doors and windows were wide open, but where were the house

servants that they were not singing at their work? Marcy did not know

what to make of it, and Julius gave it as his opinion that something

done been going wrong on the plantation.

"I believe you and Jack, between you, have frightened everybody off the

place," declared Marcy, little dreaming how near he came to the truth

when he said it. "But we'll soon know all about it, for here's mother."

He ran lightly up the steps to greet her as she appeared at the door,

but stopped short when he reached the gallery, for he saw that his

mother was as solemn as her surroundings. She tried to call a cheerful

smile to her face, but the effort was a sad failure.

"What in the world is the matter here?" demanded Marcy, as soon as he

could speak. "Have the hands all run away? Where is everybody? Why is

the place so quiet?"

"Oh, Marcy!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray, motioning to Julius to take the valise

into the house, "such a strange thing has happened since you went away.

Hanson has disappeared as completely as though he had never been on the

place at all."

"Good enough," cried Marcy, giving his mother a bear-like hug with his

one strong arm. "Now we shall be free from his--eh? You don't mean to

say you are sorry he has gone, do you?"

"I don't know whether I am or not," was the astounding reply. "If he had

left of his own free will I should be glad, I assure you; but the manner

of his going frightens me."

"The manner?" repeated Marcy, who was all in the dark.

"Yes. The night after you went away, some of the field hands were

awakened by an unusual noise and went to the door of their cabins to see

a party of fifteen or twenty masked men making off, with Hanson bound

and gagged in the midst of them. They were so badly frightened

that--Marcy," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, holding the boy off at arm's length

and looking searchingly into his face, "do you know anything about it?

Is Jack at the bottom of this strange affair?"

These last words were called forth by the exclamation of surprise and

delight that Marcy uttered when the truth of the whole matter flashed

suddenly upon him. The absent Jack had told him that the morning was

coming when his mother would not hear the field hands called to work

because there would be no one to call them, and his prediction had been

verified. Aleck Webster was true blue, the Union men who held secret

meetings in the swamp could be depended on to hold their rebel neighbors

in check, and Marcy Gray could hardly refrain from dancing with delight

at the thought of it.

"Come in and I will tell you all I know about it," said he, throwing his

arm about his mother's waist and leading her into the hall. "You needn't

worry. Every one of the men who came here that night were your friends

and mine, and they----"

"But who were they?" asked Mrs. Gray.

"It is probable that one of them sailed with Jack when he was on the

_West Wind;_ but who the others were I don't know, and it isn't at all

likely that I shall ever find out," replied Marcy. "Not in the

dining-room, please, because there's a stove-pipe hole in the ceiling

that leads into a room upstairs. Oh, it's a fact," he added with a

laugh, when his mother stopped and looked at him. "A certain person,

whose name I shall presently give you, listened at that pipe-hole time

and again, and took messages straight to Hanson. But you'll not blame

him when you hear my story. Let's go into the back parlor. By the way,

did you find your breastpin?"

His mother said in reply, that she had neither seen nor heard of it

since the day it was stolen.

"Well I've got it safe and sound," continued Marcy; and then he settled

back in his chair and repeated, almost word for word, the story sailor

Jack had told him the night before he left for the blockading fleet. He

told how Julius had taken the pin in the first place, how the overseer

had worked upon his fears to compel him to give it up, and how he had

used the power which the possession of the stolen pin enabled him to

exercise over the timid black boy. Then he described how sailor Jack and

his "Enchanted Goblet" appeared upon the scene; and from that he glided

into the history of Jack's acquaintance with Aleck Webster, and the

interviews he had held with him at the post-office. But there were two

things he did not touch upon--the meeting with Captain Beardsley at

Crooked Inlet, and sailor Jack's fears that the Confederate authorities

might interest themselves in the matter if they learned, through any of

her "secret enemies," that Mrs. Gray kept money concealed in the house.

His mother was profoundly astonished, and when Marcy finished his story

she did not know whether to be glad or frightened. The boy thought, from

the expression of her countenance, that he had added to her fears.

"You don't act as if you were pleased a bit," said he dolefully. "Are

you not glad to know that I can stay at home now? Beardsley has got to

quit business, and of course he can't make any more excuses to take me

away from you. He never did need a pilot, the old rascal. When he reads

the warning letter that is waiting for him in Newbern, he'll fill away

for home without the loss of a moment."

"Of course I am glad that you will not be obliged to go to sea any

more," said Mrs. Gray. "But I don't want those Union men to destroy

Captain Beardsley's property. When you see this man Webster I hope you

will say as much to him."

"If it's all the same to you, mother, I'll wait and see how Beardsley

conducts himself," answered Marcy, who did not like the idea of trying

to protect a man who had done all he could to annoy his mother. "If he

lets us alone, we'll let him alone; but if he bothers us, he had better

look out. When he finds out what those Union men did to Hanson, I think

he will haul in his horns. I wonder if Shelby and Dillon know it?"

"That's another strange thing that happened while you were absent, and I

did not know what to make of it," replied Mrs. Gray. "Of course the

story of the overseer's abduction spread like wild-fire, and I know it

must have reached the village, for the very next afternoon Mr. and Mrs.

Shelby rode out to visit me; and that is something they have not done

before since these troubles began."

"Aha!" said Marcy, in a significant tone. "They began to see that you

were not so helpless as they thought you were, and that it might be to

their interest to make friends with you."

"That is what I think now that I have heard your story," replied his

mother, "but I did not know what to think at the time they made their

visit. I am sorry that I was not more courteous to them, but they were

so _very_ cordial and friendly themselves that it made me suspicious of

them."

"That was perfectly right," said Marcy approvingly. "You did well to

stand on the defensive. Don't let them fool you with any of their

specious talk. They're treacherous as Indians, and would burn your house

over your head to-morrow, if they were not afraid."

"Oh, I hope they are not as bad as that. What do you think these Union

men did with the overseer? They didn't--didn't----"

"Kill him as they ought to have done?" exclaimed Marcy, when his mother

hesitated. "No, I don't think they did; and neither can I guess what

they did with him. But Jack said, in effect, that after he was taken

away he would not bother us again for a long while. Did Shelby ask after

Jack and me?"

"He did; and I told him that you had gone off in the _Fairy Belle._ Mrs.

Shelby hinted that Jack might be on his way to Newbern to join the navy,

and I did not think it worth while to deny it. It seems Jack told young

Allison that if you rode into Nashville alone some fine morning, Allison

might know that Jack was aboard a gunboat. Of course Mrs. Shelby thought

he meant a rebel gunboat."

"Don't you believe it," said Marcy earnestly. "She knew better than that

and so did Allison. Did the hands seem to be very badly frightened over

Hanson's disappearance?"

"There never was such a commotion on this plantation before," answered

Mrs. Gray. "According to the coachman's story, Jack predicted that

'white things' would some night appear in the quarter and carry Hanson

away with them; and although the abductors were not dressed in white,

the fact that they came and did just what Jack said they would do was

terrifying to the minds of the superstitious blacks. I wish Jack would

not tell them such ridiculous tales."

"He'll not be likely to tell them any more for some days to come,"

replied Marcy. "But there was nothing ridiculous about his last story.

It was business, and I think that villain Hanson found it so. Now, if

you will come up to my room and stitch my Union flag into the quilt

where it belongs, I will hand over your breastpin."

When this had been done, Marcy strolled out to the barn to tell Morris

to saddle his horse, and to see what the old fellow thought of the

situation. Just as he stepped off the gallery he heard a piercing

shriek, and hastened around the corner of the house to find the boy

Julius struggling in the grasp of the coachman, who flourished the

carriage whip over his head.

"What are you about, there?" demanded Marcy.

"He going whop me kase I say Marse Jack in de navy," yelled Julius.

"Turn me loose, you fool niggah."

"No, I ain't going whop him for dat, but for lying," said Morris,

releasing his captive with the greatest reluctance, and with difficulty

restraining his desire to give him a cut around the legs as he ran away.

"He say Marse Jack gone on a _rebel_ boat, an' I know in reason dat

ain't so."

"You won't get nuffin mo' outen Julius if you whop him till he plum

dead," shouted the black boy, who had taken refuge behind Marcy and was

holding fast to him with both hands. "I reckon I know whar Marse Jack

gone, kase I was dar."

"Go into the house, Julius. You will be safe there; and, besides, your

mistress wants to see you. Put the saddle on Fanny, Morris, and I will

ride to Nashville. Where's the overseer?"

"Oh, Marse Marcy, we black ones so glad you done come back," exclaimed

the coachman, throwing his whip and hat on the ground, and shaking the

boy's hand with both his Own. "We safe now. Nobody won't come to de

quarter and tote folks away to de swamp when you around."

"Who did it?" asked Marcy.

Morris laughed as he had not laughed before since Marcy went away. "Now

listen at you," said he. "How you reckon a pore niggah know who done it?

Everybody afraid of de niggahs now-days; everybody 'cepting de Union

folks. Going get 'nother oberseer, Marse Marcy?"

"Yes. I think I shall take the place myself."

"Dar now," said Morris, with a delighted grin. "Dem niggahs wuk

demselves to death for you. Now you go in de house an' tell your maw

whar you going, an' I bring de hoss an' holp you in de saddle."

Marcy good-naturedly complied, and hearing voices coming from the

dining-room he went in there, and found Julius listening to a lecture

from Mrs. Gray on the sinfulness of stealing. But Julius defended

himself with spirit, and declared that for once his habit of picking up

any little articles he found lying around loose had been productive of

good to every member of the family.

"When I put dat pin in my pocket, missus, I know I ain't goin' to steal

it," he protested, with so much earnestness and with such an appearance

of sincerity that almost anybody except Mrs. Gray would have believed

him. "I don't do no stealin'. I jes' want to look at de pin, an' I goin'

put it back when I get done lookin' at it. But de oberseer he done took

it away from me, an' dat's de way you find out what sort of a man he is.

No, missus; I don't steal. I always tell de troof."

Marcy Gray did not ride to Nashville with any hope of meeting Aleck

Webster that day, and consequently he was most agreeably surprised when

he saw him standing on the steps of the post-office. He did not look or

act like a man who had been engaged in any underhand business, and

neither did Colonel Shelby, who hastened down the steps and came across

the road to the hitching-rack to help Marcy off his horse.

"So glad to see you safe back," was the way in which he greeted the boy.

"Your brother said that if you came down here without him some day we

might know he was in the navy; so I suppose that is where he is. He

didn't waste much time in going, did he? What's the news from Newbern?"

Marcy cut his replies as short as he could without being rude, and went

into the office to look at his mother's box, which had been emptied by

the coachman half a dozen hours before. He exchanged a very slight nod

and a wink with Aleck Webster as he passed him, and the latter, who

seemed to know just what he meant by the pantomime, mounted his horse

when no one but Marcy was watching him and went down the road toward

Mrs. Gray's plantation. There were plenty of loungers in the office,

young Allison, of course, being one of the most talkative ones among

them, and although they seemed to know where Jack was, they could not

imagine what had become of Hanson.

"I tell you honestly, Marcy, that if it hadn't been for that Confederate

flag in your mother's dining-room, we should have laid his abduction at

your door," said Allison. "But the flag proves that you are all right;

and, besides, you couldn't have had a hand in it, for you were on your

way to Newbern when it happened. It opened our eyes to the fact that

there are traitors among us, and that we must be careful who we talk

to."

"Traitors," repeated Marcy. "I don't know what you are trying to get at.

Hanson told me with his own lips that he was a Union man. Kelsey told me

the same, and brought word to the house that Colonel Shelby and Mr.

Dillon wanted Hanson discharged; but I sent back word that if they

wanted the overseer run off the place they could come up and do the work

themselves, for I would have no hand in it. I don't want to get my

neighbors down on me if I can help it. If Hanson was a Union man, as he

professed to be (and I don't know whether he was or not, for I would not

talk politics with him), it was Confederates living right around here

who came to the quarter and took him away."

Marcy saw by the astonished look that came to Allison's face that all

this was news to him, and this made it plain that he was not in Colonel

Shelby's "ring." He backed up against one of the counters and glanced

around at his companions, but had not another word to say. The time came

when he was admitted into the "ring," and showed himself to be one of

the most active and aggressive ones in it. To keep up appearances Marcy

bought a paper, took another look at his mother's box and left the

office; and as no one went with him to help him on his horse, he led her

alongside the fence and mounted without assistance. A mile and a half

from Nashville the road followed the windings of a little creek whose

banks were thickly wooded. As he drew near this point he dropped the

reins upon his horse's neck and pulled his paper from his pocket--not

with any intention of reading it, but to be in readiness to answer Aleck

Webster's hail when he heard it. It came before he had ridden twenty

yards farther. The man had hidden his horse in the bushes, and now stood

in the edge of them within easy speaking distance, but out of sight of

any one who might be watching Marcy Gray.

"You are Mr. Jack's brother, ain't you?" said he, as Marcy stopped his

horse and fastened his eyes upon the paper he held in his hand. "I

thought so; and I want to know if you are satisfied, by what we did

while you were gone, that we will do to trust."

"We are more than satisfied," replied Marcy. "We'll never forget you for

it. What did you do with him?"

"Turned him loose with orders never to show his face in the settlement

again. We wanted to take him off to the fleet; but of course we

couldn't, for he wasn't in the rebel service. Shelby was sort of civil

to you, wasn't he? Well, he got a letter, same as Beardsley did, or will

when he gets to Newbern----"

"He's in Newbern now," interrupted Marcy, still keeping his gaze

fastened upon the paper. "We passed him at Crooked Inlet just as we were

going out. That frightened Jack, and he told me to lose no time in

telling you of it."

"That's all right; but Beardsley will not trouble you. We've written

letters to him and Shelby and all the rest telling them that if they

don't stop persecuting Union folks we'll burn everything they've got;

and if that don't quieten them, we'll hang the last one of them to the

plates of their own galleries. Go home and sleep soundly. We'll take

care of you. Where did you leave Mr. Jack?"

Marcy gave a brief history of his run to the blockading fleet and back,

told how very badly frightened his mother's servants were when they saw

the overseer carried away by armed men, and how the circumstance had

affected some of the "secret enemies" of whom they stood so much in

fear; hinted very plainly that if at any time Aleck or any of his

friends found themselves in need of bacon, meal, or money, they could

have their wants supplied at his mother's house, and wound up by urging

him to keep a sharp eye on Captain Beardsley.

"I don't think he will ever trouble you," was Aleck's reply. "At any

rate, he will never make you go to sea again against your will. But if

anything does happen to you after the warning we have given him, we'll

blame him for it, whether he is guilty or not, and some night you will

see his buildings going up in smoke. Is there any one on the road who

will be likely to see me if I come out? Well, then, good-bye."

Marcy put his paper into his pocket and rode away with a light heart,

little dreaming how soon the time would come when another of sailor

Jack's predictions would be partly fulfilled, and he, the well-fed Marcy

Gray, standing sorely in need of some of the bacon and meal he had

promised Aleck and his friends, would steal up to his mother's house

like a thief in the night to get them, starting at every sound, and

keeping clear of every shadow he saw in his path for fear that it might

be an armed man lying in wait to capture him. But that time came. It is

true that Captain Beardsley and his friends did not do anything against

him openly (they were afraid to do that), but they worked against him in

secret and to such purpose that Marcy Gray, forced to become a fugitive

from his home, was glad to take up his abode for a while with the Union

men who lived in the swamp. How this unfortunate state of affairs was

brought about, what young Allison did after he became a member of the

"ring," and how Captain Beardsley, Colonel Shelby, and the rest paid the

penalty of their double dealing, shall be told in the next volume of

this series of books, which will be entitled, "MARCY, THE REFUGEE."

THE END.

The

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Harry Castlemon.

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