Chapter 22
Narrative continued
For the moment Jack Blackwood has bested me, but perhaps that will change. I suppose I will continue where I left off, though in my current state – after a generous dose of medicine for my pains at a small hospital outside of Harper’s Ferry – I cannot guarantee that my telling of the story will be logical.
I made my way to Harpers’ Ferry as the plan originally went, not really aware of what Fate had in store for me. The day had cleared up since the previous dripping rain, and the wind had died down as well. After initially missing Stevenson and his conversation, I had settled in to my thoughts, and they did not remain unpleasant as they had before. Perhaps the change in the weather made me more optimistic. Also I had hopes that I could settle my business in a profitable manner, and Stevenson could take care of the rest with the Southern rascals. His ambush of Mister Blackwood seemed to simplify matters and take some of the burden of planning away from me. But that interfering detective and his partner were too smart for Stevenson and the men. Although I have not heard from Stevenson or anyone else for that matter, I cannot hope for the best. It is obvious that Blackwood and his man had weapons and intelligence, and managed to stop the men, even though they were outnumbered.
When I entered Harper’s Ferry using a back route, I knew something was about to happen. The residents had a distracted air, and the smell of gunpowder seemed to be floating in the distance. I walked into a tavern and started a conversation with the landlord. He was a talkative man. He told me that Virginia had just seceded, and that news made me get a little restless. I did not want to be getting shot at with my business unfinished and unable to collect the money I had been promised by the Rebels.
I decided to leave abruptly, and I found my way to the bridge leaving the area of the arsenal and towards the rumored Virginian forces. I stayed hidden in the woods around the area, considering what to do. I then saw that some Virginian Cavalry were scouting the area, and I only had to wait for the rest of the army to arrive to get across that bridge. When I tried to cross, the miniballs were buzzing everywhere. My luck did not hold out, and I was shot in the leg. I ended up falling into the river below where I thought I would drown.
Some local citizens took up the work of hauling the wounded to safety. I am recovering in the house of an older lady, Missus Douglas, who is pleased to be helping a fellow Southerner. The bullet has been removed from my right leg. Luckily I passed out before the operation became too painful, but my leg looks a sight. The doctor said if it doesn’t improve, I may lose my leg to amputation. I oppose that idea strongly when it is suggested, and I hope to be well enough to leave in a week’s time or so. For the moment, I welcome the rest at this hospitable place, and reflect back on the past, and hope to get my chance against that infernal Blackwood in the future.