JAKE ELLIOTT MAKES ANOTHER EFFORT TO GET EVEN.
As it is impossible to tell at one time the story of the doings of two
different sets of persons in two different places, it follows that, if
both are to be told, one must be told first and the other afterward.
For precisely this reason, I must leave Sam and his party for a time
now, while I tell where Jake Elliott had been, and what he had been
about.
When Sam let him off as easily as he could at the time of the compass
affair, and even went out of his way to prevent the boys from
referring to that transaction, he did so with the distinct purpose of
giving Jake an opportunity and a motive to redeem his reputation; and
he sincerely hoped that Jake would avail himself of the chance.
It is not easy for a man or boy of right impulses to imagine the
feelings, or to comprehend the acts of a person whose impulses are all
wrong, and so it was that Sam fell into the error of supposing that
his badly behaved follower would repent of his misconduct and do
better in future. This was what all the boys thought that Jake ought
to do, and what Sam thought he would do; but in truth he was disposed
to do nothing of the sort, and Sam was not very long in discovering
the fact. Instead of feeling grateful to Sam for shielding him against
the taunts of his companions, he hated Sam more cordially than ever,
when he found how completely he had failed in his attempt to embarrass
the expedition. He nursed his malice and brooded over it, determined
to seize the first opportunity of "getting even," as he expressed it,
and from that hour his thoughts were all of revenge, complete,
successful, merciless. He was willing enough, too, to include the
other boys in this wreaking of vengeance, as he included them now in
his malice.
His first attempt to accomplish his purpose, as we know already, was
an effort to wreck the boat in a drift pile, and that affair served
to open Sam's eyes to the true character of the boy with whom he had
to deal. He trusted him no more, and managed him thereafter only by
appeals to his fears.
When the camp was formed near Pensacola, Sam carefully canvassed the
possibilities of Jake's misconduct, and concluded that the worst he
could do would be to injure the boat or her tackle, and he
sufficiently guarded against that by always sleeping near the little
craft.
Jake was more desperately bent upon revenge than Sam supposed, and
from the hour of going into camp he diligently worked over his plan
for accomplishing his purpose. He had learned by previous failures, to
dread Sam's quickness of perception, of which, indeed, he stood almost
superstitiously in awe. He would not venture to take a single step
toward the accomplishment of the end he had set himself, until his
plans should be mature. For many days, therefore, he only meditated
revenge not daring, as yet, to attempt it by any active measures. At
last, however, he was satisfied that his plans were beyond Sam's
power to penetrate, and he was ready to put them into execution. On
the night of Bob Sharp's return, which was the night last described in
previous chapters, Sam went to the town, as we know, accompanied by
Tom, who sailed the boat. As soon as he was fairly out of sight Jake
walked away toward Pensacola. The distance was considerable, and the
way a very difficult one, as the tide was too high for walking on the
beach, so that it was nearly midnight when Jake knocked at a house on
a side street.
"Who is there?" asked a night-capped personage from an upper window.
"A friend," answered Jake.
"What do you want?" said the night-capped head, rather gruffly.
"I want to see the Leftenant."
"What do you want with me?"
"I want to talk with you."
"Oh, go to the mischief! I'm in bed."
"But I must see you to-night," said Jake.
"On business?"
"Yes, sir."
"Important?"
"Yes."
"Won't it keep till morning?"
"No, sir; I'm afraid not."
"Very well. I suppose I must see you then. Push the door open and find
your way up the stairs."
Jake did as he was told to do, and presently found himself in the room
where Lieutenant Coxetter had been sleeping. That distinguished
servant of His Majesty, King George, had meantime drawn on his
trowsers, and he now lighted a little oil lamp, which threw a wretched
apology for light a few feet into the surrounding darkness.
"Now then," said the officer, in no very pleasant tones, "What do you
want with me at this time o' night? Who are you, and where do you come
from?"
Jake was so nervous that he found it impossible to find a place at
which to begin his story, and the impatient Lieutenant spurred him
with direct questions.
"What's your name?" he asked. "You can tell that, can't you?"
"Yes, sir," faltered Jake.
[Illustration: "SPEAK, MAN! OR I CHOKE YOU."]
"Well, tell it then, and be quick about it."
"My name is Jacob Elliott," said that worthy, fairly gasping for
breath in his embarrassment.
"Oh! you do know your name, then," said the officer. "Now, then, where
do you come from?"
"From Alabama," answered Jake.
"From Alabama! the mischief you do! You're an American then? What the
mischief are you doing here?"
"Oh, sir, that's just what I want to tell you about, if you'll let
me."
"If I'll _let_ you? Ain't I doing my very best to _make_ you? Havn't I
been worming your facts out of you with a corkscrew? But you'd better
be quick about giving an account of yourself. If you don't give a
pretty satisfactory one, too, I'll arrest you as a _spy_,--a _spy_, my
good fellow, do you understand? _A spy_, and we hang that sort o'
people. Come, be quick."
"Spies! that's just it, Lieutenant. I came here to-night to tell you
about spies."
"Then why the mischief don't you do it? You'll drive me mad with your
halting tongue. Speak man, or I'll choke you!" and with that the
officer stood up and bent forward over Jake, to that young man's
serious discomfiture.
"They's some spies here--" Jake began. "Where?" asked the impatient
officer interrupting him.
"Down there, in a camp," said Jake, talking as rapidly as he could,
lest the officer should interrupt him again; "Down there in a camp by
the bay, an' they've got a boat an' guns, an' they're boys, an' they
pretend to be a fishin' party."
"Ah!" said the Lieutenant, "I thought I'd make you find your tongue.
Now listen to me, and answer my questions, and mind you don't lie to
me, sir; mind you don't lie."
"I won't. I pledge you my honor--," began Jake.
"Never mind pledging that; it isn't worth pledging. You see you're a
sneak, else you wouldn't be here telling tales on your fellow
countrymen. But never mind. It's my business to make use of you. I'm
provost-marshal."
This was not at all the sort of treatment Jake had expected to receive
at the hands of British officers. He had supposed that the value of
his services in betraying his fellows, would be recognized and
rewarded, and he had even dreamed of receiving marked attentions and a
good, comfortable, safe place in the British service in recompense. It
had never occurred to him that while all military men must get what
information they can from deserters, and traitors, they do not respect
the sneaking fellows in the least, but on the contrary hold them in
profoundest contempt, almost spurning them with their boots. Jake had
gone too far to retreat, however, and must now tell his whole story.
He told where the boys were, and how they had come there, and for what
purpose, lying only enough to make it appear that he himself had never
willingly joined them, but had been deceived at first, and forced
afterward into the service.
The Lieutenant listened to the story and then asked:--
"Have you anything to show for all this?"
"How do you mean?" asked Jake.
"Why, you wretched coward, don't you understand? How am I to know how
much of your story is true, and how much of it false? Of course it
isn't all true. You couldn't talk so long without telling some lies.
What I want to know is, what can you show for all this story? If I
arrest these boys, what can be proved on them?"
"Well, the Captain's got a despatch from General Jackson; that'll
prove something."
"When did he get it?"
"To-night."
"Very well. That's something. Now you just sit still till I tell you
to do something else."
So saying the Lieutenant summoned a courier or two, and sent them off
with notes.
"These boys have a boat, you say?"
"Yes."
"Do they know how to sail it?"
"A little; the Captain handles it better'n the rest."
"Has he ever been to sea?"
"No, sir."
"What sort of a boat is it?"
"A dug-out; we made it ourselves."
"Oh, did you? Why didn't you tell me that first? Never mind, it's all
right. They'll never try to put to sea in a dug-out, but they may try
to escape to some point lower down the bay in it, so my message to
the fort won't be amiss."
The Lieutenant had sent a message to the fort that at daylight he
should arrest the party, and that if they should take the alarm and
try to escape by water, a boat must be sent from the fort to overhaul
them.
He now dressed himself, first sending for a file of soldiers under a
sergeant, with instructions to parade at his door immediately.
When all was ready he said to Jake.
"Now then, young man, come with me, and guide me to the camp of these
lads."
Jake led the way, and when a little after daylight they approached the
camp the Lieutenant said to him:--
"I don't want to make any mistake in this business. You go ahead to
the camp and see if the lads are there. That'll throw 'em off their
guard, and I'll come up in five minutes."
"But Lieu--" began Jake, remonstratingly.
"Hold your tongue, and do as I tell you, or I'll string you up to a
tree, you rascal."
Thus admonished, Jake walked on in fear and trembling to the camp. As
he approached it he observed the unusual stir which was going on, and
wondered what it meant, but he did not for a moment imagine that Sam
had guessed the truth.