AN ENTERPRISE FOR A DARK NIGHT
"Corny wounded!" exclaimed Colonel Passford, rising with no little
emotion from the box on which he had seated himself.
"Not seriously, Uncle Homer," added Christy.
"But how was he wounded? I have heard of no battle in the vicinity of
New York till now, though our papers contain some news from outside,"
continued the planter.
"It was hardly a battle," replied Christy. "Captain Carboneer had
brought a crew for a steamer through Canada, I believe, for the purpose
of capturing the Bellevite as she lay at Bonnydale. Major Pierson and
Corny were to assist him; and the major wished Captain Carboneer to take
Florry on board of her, and convey her to the South, when he had taken
possession of the steamer; but the naval officer was too high-toned to
do anything of the kind."
"I did not suppose Major Pierson could do such a thing," added the
planter, biting his lips.
"But the major insisted that he did not mean to take her against her
own will. Captain Carboneer bought an old steamer, put his men on board
of her, and started up the river to make the capture. I knew they were
coming, and was ready for them. We fired only one shot at the old
steamer, which smashed her walking-beam, and disabled her. A piece of
the machinery struck Corny, and injured him in the shoulder. The doctor
says he is not permanently injured, though it will be months before he
is able to use his arm. He was paroled, and mother is taking as good
care of him as though I had been wounded."
"I am thankful it is not worse," added the colonel, with a sigh of
relief. "What became of Major Pierson?"
"I don't know, but I suppose he is a prisoner in Fort Lafayette. He
refused to give his parole when he found he could not be a guest at
Bonnydale. Captain Carboneer obtained the command of a steamer, but it
was captured by the Bellevite, and probably he is with the major in the
fort."
The planter asked a great many questions in regard to the affair on the
Hudson, and Christy answered them. He gave some of the particulars of
the capture of the Teaser, and mentioned the name of Lonley, who had
told him that Colonel Passford had offered him the command of a schooner
he had loaded with cotton to run the blockade; but the planter said
nothing to indicate that he had ever heard of the privateersman.
"The Bellevite has been very fortunate so far, and she seems to have a
charmed existence," added the colonel.
"That is only because she is well handled," replied Christy, laughing.
"And you seem to be equally fortunate, Christy, for you have twice been
the means of saving your father's steamer. Corny has done nothing, is
wounded, and practically a prisoner. But, Christy, the tide will turn,
for Heaven is always on the side of a just cause," added the planter
solemnly.
"I believe it, uncle; and that will be the reason why the Union will
prevail in the end. Besides, Napoleon believed that Heaven was always
on the side of the stronger battalions."
"That was an impious remark; and Heaven, by its own mysterious ways,
will conduct the just cause of the South to a successful ending, and the
Confederate States of America will be an honored member of the family of
nations."
"I think we had better not talk politics, even though we mix in a little
religion," suggested Christy.
"As your father has been kind to my boy, wounded and a prisoner in the
midst of enemies, I ought to do something for you, Christy," continued
Colonel Passford, looking on the floor.
"Not at all, Uncle Homer; I am not wounded as Corny is, and there is
no need of doing anything for me," interposed Christy, laughing in the
serious face of the planter.
"I can get you paroled, and then I shall be glad to have you remain at
Glenfield until you are exchanged," said the planter.
"I shall not accept a parole, Uncle Homer," replied Christy promptly.
"Not accept a parole!" exclaimed the colonel. "Corny did so."
"If I were wounded, as Corny is, I would accept it."
"I hope you don't mean to try to escape, Christy," added his uncle, with
a look of deep concern on his dignified face, as he looked about the
apartment in which his nephew was confined.
"I don't say that I shall; if I did say so, you would have our guard
doubled, and ready to shoot me if they saw my head at a window,"
answered Christy with earnestness.
"You seem to think I am a heathen; but you forget that you are an active
enemy of my country," added the planter, with a pained expression.
"I don't forget it, uncle; but I am not half as active as I hope to be
before this thing ends. I believe you would see me shot or hung by the
neck till I was dead if it were for the benefit of what you call your
country."
"I hope and pray that I may never be placed in a situation to see
anything of that kind."
"I know you are earnest, honest, and sincere, Uncle Homer, and no
partiality to your own kindred would permit you to shirk what you
consider to be your duty. I find no fault with you; and I believe my
father would be equally firm," said Christy warmly.
"I think you understand me, my boy; but do not attempt any rash project.
I cannot prevent the guard from shooting you if you attempt to escape."
"I prefer to keep my own counsels in a matter of this kind, Uncle Homer.
Give my love to Aunt Lydia and Gerty, for I suppose I am not likely to
see them, as I am liable to be sent away any day."
"Oh, yes, you will see them, for they shall call upon you here as soon
as they return from Montgomery, where they have gone for a few days."
"It will be very kind of them to do so," added Christy, though he did
not believe he should be "at home" when they came.
"I do not wish you were wounded, my dear boy, but if you were, we would
do all that your father and mother are doing for poor Corny," replied
Colonel Passford fervently, "Now, promise me, Christy, that you will not
attempt to escape."
"I can't make any promises, uncle."
"I will do the best I can to have your condition improved, and see that
you have a better diet, if I send your food from a hotel."
"You are very kind, uncle, and I know that you will do all that your
duty will permit you to do for me."
"But I shall live in fear and trembling if I leave you without your
promise to refrain from daring exploits. Just consider, my dear boy; you
are in the fourth story of this warehouse, and the guard-room is below
you. You have really no chance at all of success, and a fall or a shot
may kill or disable you for life."
"I do not say that I shall try to escape, uncle."
"And you do not say that you will not try to escape."
For half an hour longer Colonel Passford endeavored to induce his nephew
to give the desired promise; but he remained obstinate to the end;
and his uncle was compelled to leave him, to enter upon the fear and
trembling in which he was to live while his enterprising nephew remained
a prisoner. But he promised to call upon him every day, and to write to
his wife and daughter to return at once.
"I think I shall not wait for him to call," said Christy to Flint,
as soon as he had gone.
"Do you expect to get out of this place, Mr. Passford?" asked the
master's mate, with lively interest.
"This very night!" replied Christy, in an energetic whisper, as he put
his finger on his lips to indicate that nothing more was to be said on
the subject.
The second lieutenant of the Bellevite had not been confined in the
warehouse three days without considering his chances of escape, and
the means of accomplishing such a purpose. He had looked the building
over with the greatest care. The room the prisoners occupied was next
to the roof. The rear windows opened upon a narrow alley, and he had
ascertained by looking out at them that the warehouse was one of a long
block. He had been in Mobile a great deal while the family were visiting
at Glenfield, and he had been careful to notice the location when he was
conducted to it with the others.
At the end of the loft next to the main street were thirty or forty
other prisoners, with whom Christy and Flint had been on good terms,
though they belonged to the army, and seemed to be inclined to keep
by themselves. They had been exhausted by hard service, and they had
nothing to do but eat and sleep, though the former occupation did not
occupy any great amount of their spare time. But as soon as it was
fairly dark, they stretched themselves on their beds of vines and weeds,
and most of them were soon asleep.
The evening that followed the day on which Colonel Passford visited his
nephew was dark, foggy, rainy, and as gloomy as even a blockade runner
might ask. Christy seated himself under one of the rear windows of the
loft, which appeared to have been intended only for storage, and was
only from seven to eight feet between studs. Flint placed himself at the
side of his companion, as he was requested to do.
"This is just the kind of a night we want," said Christy, in a whisper,
for he could hear the tramp of a sentinel outside the door of the loft.
"I should as soon think of getting out if we were buried a hundred feet
under ground as to think of getting out of this place," replied Flint,
who was hardly as enterprising as his officer, though he was always
ready to follow when he was well led. "There is a guard at the door,
Mr. Passford."
"He may stay there; we don't want anything of him," replied Christy.
"I see no other way out of this den, unless we jump down into the
street; but I will follow you, sir, if I fall a hundred feet in doing
it," protested the master's mate.
"You shall not fall six inches, and you will have no opportunity to do
so. But if you are all ready to follow my lead, we may as well begin at
once," added Christy, who had expected that it would require some
persuasion to induce his companion to join him.
The first thing the midshipman did was to take off his shoes, and to
require Flint to do the same. With these in their hands, Christy paced
off twenty steps, which brought him, according to a calculation he
had made in the daylight, under a scuttle that led to the roof of the
warehouse. Stationing the master's mate as a mark, he laid off five
paces at right angles with the first line from the party-wall. It was as
dark as Egypt, and the scuttle could not be seen; but the operator had
located it mathematically, and was confident as to its position. Flint
was planted under the opening, with the shoes of both at his side.
The master's mate was nearly six feet in his stocking feet as he stood,
and Christy whispered to him the next thing in his scheme. With the aid
of his willing assistant, the midshipman was mounted on the shoulders of
the former, where he stood up like an athlete in the gloom, though he
almost instantly obtained a hold above with his hands. He unfastened the
scuttle, and slid it off the aperture with the greatest care. Then he
drew himself up with his strong hands, and was on the roof. Then Flint
passed up the shoes, as he reached down for them. Seating himself on one
side of the frame, he braced his feet against the other side, and
grasped the hands of the mate. It did not work.