CHAPTER X
It was a clear, gusty night when he emerged on the lawn at the sideentrance of the house. For two hours with the faint and freakish lightof candle ends he had been rummaging over old chests and boxes in theattic. The aspect of the desolate, deserted place that had held hisyoung master, a tenant dear to his loyal heart, wrung from him a sigh.Sometimes he dropped his hands, lifted himself from his crouchingattitude to a kneeling posture, looked wistfully about the dreary, dustysilence, shook his head sorrowfully to and fro, and then once moreaddressed himself to his search. When he began to find the variousarticles he desired, he grew tremulous, agitated. His breath was fast,and now and again he must needs check himself in his disposition tofluent soliloquy lest some one overhear in his sonorous voice suchsignificant words as would reveal his intention. When these seizuressupervened, he became anxious concerning the possible betrayal of hisenterprise by the feeble light cast from the windows, and ever and anonhe screened the bit of candle behind a trunk or some massive piece offurniture. He knew that the house was a marked spot; the events of theday had rendered the locality of special and suspicious interest to allthe camps in the vicinity. Many an eye was turned thither, he was aware,as the evening drew on, and in fact he hardly dared to light the tinytapers till he had heard tattoo sound and taps beat. The tents were lostin darkness and slumber, but there were the camp and quarter guards, andsoon would come the patrol and grand rounds. The sentries about thehouse gave him less anxiety.
"They be 'bleeged to know we-all keep some of our stuff in thegarrit--mought be huntin' fur suthin' fur dat ar Yankee man's nickedhaid. But _I ain't_!" he soliloquized.
When at last he had found all he desired, he extinguished the light andquietly waited. Thus in the darkness the place was even more grewsomewith its associations of concealment and flight, the imminence of hisyoung master's capture and violent death. He heard his heart plunge atevery stir of the wind, every clash of the boughs, and he muttered: "Datpore chile wuz denied a light. His Pa p'intedly wouldn't 'low him acandle, fur fear folks would spy it out. An' here he set an' waited inde ever-lastin' night!"
Old Ephraim suffered here in the dark from a terror which had loosed itshold on his young master long ago,--the fear of the supernatural. Ghostsof many types, "ha'nts," headless horrors, spectral sounds from theother world, direful prognostications of signs, all in grisly processionpassed and repassed and crowded the garret to suffocation. It would beimpossible to imagine what the old gray-headed negro saw and heard as hecrouched on the dusty floor, and listened to the rout of the wind in thetrees, and watched the eerie aspect of the old furniture, itselfassociated with the long-gone dead, as the moon and the gust-drivenshadowy clouds flickered and faded and flickered and faded across thedim spaces. When suddenly a shrill sound pierced the ghostly solitude,he fell prone in complete surrender on the floor, terrified, his nervesalmost shattered. An inarticulate scream came again and again, and thena low chuckling chatter. A screech-owl, a tiny thing, had alighted onthe window-sill, and hearing the stir, turned its head without shiftingits body, its great round eyes encountering the reproachful rollingstare of old Ephraim as he tremulously gathered himself from the floor.Taking a package under his arm under the long coat he wore, he at lastwent noiselessly and swiftly down the stairs.
He looked out heedfully for Judge Roscoe, whom he did not wish toencounter.
"Marster hes been a jedge, an' dey say he hes set on de bench--dough Idunno whut fur dat's so oncommon, fur mos' ennybody kin set on a bench!He's sot in his own cushioned arm-chair in de lawbrary whut kin leanbackwards on a spring, and recline his foots upwards, an' dat's a dealch'icer dan enny bench I knows on! But he's been a jedge, an' he's gotbook-larnin', but somehow I 'low he ain't tricky enough ter be up ter_dis_ kink. I ain't gwine ter let him know nuffin'."
When fairly out of the house all suggestion of secrecy and cautionvanished. The old darkey flung his feet on the stone steps with a noisyimpact, and before he reached the pavement, he had burst into song,marking the time with an emphatic rhythm--a wide blare of melody with agreat baritone voice, that sounded far down the bosky recesses of thegrove, all dappled with shadow and sheen.
"Rise an' shine, _children_! Rise an' _shine_, children! Rise an' shine, _children_! De angels bid me ter come along! O-h-h, I want ter go ter heaben when I die--"
He broke off suddenly. He did not wait to be challenged by the sentry ashe turned, but greeted him with a sort of plaintive humility and amendicant's confiding manner.
"Marse Soldier, could ye gimme a chaw of terbacker, please, sir?"
The soldier would not have allowed even one of his own officers to passfrom the house or enter it without the countersign, but he was thrownoff his guard by this personal appeal; and although he could not complywith the request, not being given to the bad habit of "chawin'terbacker," he shifted his weapon from hand to hand while he rummagedhis pockets for "fine-cut" for the pipe of old Ephraim--the fraud, whowas amply supplied.
"Neb mind--neb mind," the old man said deprecatingly. "Thanky, sah,thanky! Dere's anodder soldier round de front po'ch--mebbe he's got achaw!"
And this sentinel, having listened to the colloquy with his comrade, aswell as distance would permit, adopted his friendly tactics and was ableto produce the requisite "chaw." He naturally supposed the countersignhad been demanded and given at the door whence the servant of the houseemerged, for after unctuous and profuse thanks old Ephraim swung offdown the hill with another great gush of song--"I want ter go ter heabenwhen I die--" echoing far over the grove and the silent camps beyond.
Listening to the resounding progress of his departure the first sentrythought of course that in letting him pass his comrade had taken thecountersign. It was only a vague thought, however, cast after him. "Thatold night-hawk is bound for the river, I guess, going fishing," fornocturnal angling was the favorite sport of the darkeys of the region.
The soldier did not even notice when the surge of the chant gave way toa musical whistle, still carrying the air with great spirit and a sortof enthusiasm of rhythm, "An' de angels bid me ter come along." Stillless did he discriminate the difference in the change of sound, notimmediately apparent, so elusive was it, and difficult to describe, whena whistle of a different timbre took up the air and finished thephrase--"I'll shout salvation as I fly!" After a pause Uncle Ephraim wasin the distance, humming now, and soon all sound ceased. Both thesentinels would have sworn he had quitted the grove.
But it was not alone the wind among the young firs that tossed theirbranches to and fro, when trembling, terrorized, casting now and then ahorrified, rebuking glance at the radiant moon, as the flying scud drewback and left the sphere undimmed, he sought the spot he had marked whenthe responsive whistle had apprised him that his signal was understoodand answered. At length he paused to catch his breath and wipe the colddrops from his brow.
"Lawdy massy! dese yere shines dat dis yere Rebel cuts up will be dedeath ob me--ef dey ain't de death ob himse'f fust!"
He judged from his close observation he was on the spot--yet he couldnot ascertain it. Suddenly hard by the roots of a great lush specimen ofa Norway spruce, the boughs lying far on the ground, his foot slipped onthe thick spread of the fallen needles. He could not recover himself. Hewas going down--down. His courage all evaporated. He would havescreamed if he could. In his terror he had almost lost consciousnesstill all at once he felt a strong grasp of aid and heard a familiarsmothered laugh that restored his faculties with the realization ofsuccess and the recognition of a friend at hand.
"Hesh! Hesh!" he said imperatively. "Dat laffin' an' laffin' is gwineter be de _de_struction ob you an' all yer house, an' 'fore de Lawd, oleEphraim, too!"
He had no response, but he had submitted himself to guidance. He wasbeing led along a downward course in a narrow subterranean passage, hisfeet shuffling and kicking uncertainly as he ludicrously sought for theground and to accommodate his gait to the easy accustomed stride of hisconducto
r. They made more than one turn before Julius paused and said:"We might as well stop here, Uncle Ephraim. We can sit down on therocks. Did my father send me any message? Is the officer much hurt?"
"Do you think you kin pitch folks down them steep steers, an' not hurt'em, you owdacious, mis_chie_vious chile! His head is consider'blenicked,--an' dat's a fac'!"
"Is that all?" said Julius, evidently much relieved. "What word did myfather send me?"
"No word! He didn't know whar dee is--an' I didn't tell him whar I wasgoin' ter hunt fur dee."
"Oh, but he _must_ know--he must not be left so uneasy. Oh, how I wish Ihad never come to disturb and endanger my good father!"
It was dark, and he did not care that Uncle Ephraim should hear hissobs.
"Now, look-a-yere, Marse Julius, chile--de less folks knows 'bout dee,de less dey is liable ter be anxious. What you reckon I brung dee?"
"Some supper?"
"Lawd, no! I ain't hed time ter git ye supper."
"Some money? I don't want any money. My father gave me money in case ofany necessity when I was to run the pickets--_gold_!" He chinked somecoins alluringly in his pocket.
"'Tain't money. It's--_cloes_!"
"Clothes?" said Julius, uncertainly.
"'Twas dat ar tarrifyin' Rebel uniform dat got dee in dis troubleter-day. Ye got ter change dem cloes. Ye can't run de pickets, an' yecan't git out'n de lines nohow in dem cloes."
Julius hesitated. The uniform was in one sense a protection. To be takenin his proper character, even lurking in hiding, did not necessarilyexpose him to the accusation of being a spy which capture in disguisewould inevitably fix upon him.
"What clothes did you bring,--Aunt Chaney's?" he asked, prefiguring afemale disguise, and reflecting on the ample size and notable height ofthe cook.
A sort of sharp yelp of dismay came out of the darkness. Old Ephraimwriggled and shuffled his feet audibly on the rocks in his effort atemphasis and absolute negation.
"Marse Julius you is gone _de_ranged! Surely, surely, you is los' whatsense you ever had! Chaney wouldn't loan ye ez much ez a apern or askirt out'n her chist ter save ye from de pit o' perdition! I hes beenreckless and darin' in my time, but de Lawd knows I never was so forsookby Providence as ter set out ter carry off any wearin' apparel belongin'ter dat 'oman, what's gin ober ter de love o' de cloes in her chist. Datchist is de idol ob dat _de_stracted heathen 'oman, an' de debbil willburn her well for de love o' de vanities she's got tucked away dar.Chaney's cloes! Gawd A'mighty! _Chaney's_ cloes! Borry _Chaney's_cloes!"
"Well, whose clothes, then, Uncle Ephraim? You know I couldn't get intothe citizen's clothes I left at home. I'm three inches taller, and adeal stouter. And it would be dangerous to try to buy clothes."
"Lissen; I disremembered dere wuz a trunk in de garret what wuz brungdown from de Devrett place when de Yankees tore down de house an' builtde fort. It b'longed ter yer cousin Frank's wife's brother, an' wuz senthome atter de war broke out when he died in some outlandish place--Idunno whar, in heathen land. As I knowed he wuz tall an' spare, I 'lowedde cloes mought fit dee. So I opened de trunk--an' de cloes wuzcomical; but not as comical as a Rebel uniform in dese days an' displace."
Julius had a vague vision of himself, robed in the comicalities of thedress of the Orient,--Japanese or Arabian or Turkish,--seeking an escapein obscurity and inconspicuousness, through the closely drawn Federallines.
"Oh, Uncle Ephraim!" he whined, almost in tears, because of the futilityof every device, every hope.
"You wait till I show dem ter dee!" exclaimed Uncle Ephraim, hustlingout the bundle from under his coat.
It proved to be a small portmanteau that had been itself enclosed in thetrunk. This much was discernible by the sense of touch. Old Ephraimplaced it on the ground, and then, lowering his voice mysteriously, heasked solemnly, "Marse Julius, is you sure acquainted with dis place?"
"I certainly am," declared Julius, the tense vibration of triumph in hisvoice. "I know it from end to end!"
"Den, ef I wuz ter strike a light, could dem sentries see hit at defurder e-end?"
"Not to save their souls. We're ever so far down, and the tunnel hasalready made three turns."
"Ef dey wuz ter follow us, dey couldn't crope up unbeknownst on us?"
"They'd break their necks at the entrance if they didn't know the placeor have a ladder."
"Dere is a ladder ter de stable, dough," the old man urged, vaguelyuneasy.
"We'd hear 'em putting it down."
"Dat's so! Dat's so!" cried Uncle Ephraim, all cheerful alacrity oncemore.
He forthwith struck a match and lighted one of his candle ends, which hefixed on the ledge of the rock by holding it inverted for a few minutes,then on the hot drippings placing the taper erect. He had shielded itwith his hand during this process, and on perceiving no draughtwhatever, looked up in amazement at the strange surroundings--a ruggedstone tunnel stretching far along into the dense blackness of thedistance, fifteen feet in height, perhaps, and of varying width,--aboutten feet where they stood; evidently this was an offshoot of someextensive subterranean system, not uncommon in the cavernous limestonecountry, therefore exciting scant interest, and perhaps never heretoforeexplored, even in part, save by Julius and the Devrett boys when itmight be made a factor in Christmas fun.
"De Lawd-a-massy," exclaimed Uncle Ephraim, looking about in awe and byno means prepossessed in favor of the aspect of the place. "Is disher debestibule ob hell?"
But the attention of Julius was concentrated on the portmanteau, a verygenteel-looking receptacle, which when open disclosed the garments thatUncle Ephraim considered so comical. They were, indeed, a contrast withhis standard of proper attire for a "gemman of quality"--this being thejudge's fine black broadcloth, with a black satin waistcoat and stock,and with linen laid in plaits, the collar standing in two sharp points.But for the first time that day Julius had a sudden hope of deliverance.No kaftan, kimono, nor burnoose as he had feared, but he was turning inhis hands a soft, rough-surfaced tweed of a dark fawn color, with tinychecks of the style called invisible, the coat bound with a silk braidon which Uncle Ephraim laid a finger of doubt and inquiry, lookingdrearily up into the young man's face. For this was a novel finishindeed in those days.
"These are of English make," said the discerning Julius, beginning tounderstand that the foreign "heathen land" to which old Ephraim hadreferred was England. Julius now remembered that his cousin'sbrother-in-law, James Wrayburn, had been sojourning there at the time ofhis death. The garments had lain in the garret for more than a year, butin those days so slow was the transmission of styles across the Atlanticthat the cut was by no means antiquated, indeed was in accord with thefashion that was familiar on the main street of the town. There was ahat of soft felt of a deep brown, and the old servant had added from thetrunk two or three white Marseilles waistcoats and some neckties andlinen.
"Dee got on good new boots," he observed, glancing down at the youngman's feet.
"Ought to be--cost me six hundred dollars!" said Julius.
"Lo!--my Heabenly Friend!" exclaimed Uncle Ephraim, falling back aghast,unaccustomed to the inflations of the currency of the Confederacy.
When the transformation was complete, he looked up from his knees, inwhich lowly posture he had assisted in drawing down the trousers overthe boots, and smiled broadly in satisfaction.
"Dar now!" he exclaimed. "'Fore de Lawd, ye look plumb beau-some in demcomical cloes. Dey becomes ye! Dat they does--dough I ain't never see nosuch color as they got, 'dout 'twuz on a cow!"
He made up a bundle of the Confederate uniform and stowed it away on oneof the ledges. "I don't want dem Yankees ter ever git no closer ter disyere shed snake-skin dan dey is now."
But after the old man had been assisted to clamber out of "the vestibuleof hell" by the stalwart arm of his young master and had disappearedamong the firs, Julius made up the uniform into a compact bundle, packedit into the portmanteau, and, putting out the candle, sat down in theobscur
ities of the subterranean passage to await the enhancedopportunity for escape that the dark clouds, now gathering about themoon, might bring to the fortuitous collocation of circumstance.
When the sentries next heard any suggestion of Uncle Ephraim's presence,he was still singing on his return,--now and then humming and whistlingas he came. He was approaching the house from the driveway, havingindeed been to the river; he was bringing home a goodly mess of fish.