XVII.
_PENN'S FOOT KNOCKS DOWN A MUSKET._
Weeks passed. But now every day brought to Penn increasing anxiety ofmind with regard to his situation. His abhorrence of war was as strongas ever; and his great principle of non-resistance had scarcely beenshaken. But how was he to avoid participating in scenes of violence ifhe remained in Tennessee? And how was his escape from the state to beeffected?
"You are welcome to a home with us as long as you will stay," said Pomp."I shall miss you--even Cudjo will hate to see you go."
Penn thanked him, fully appreciating their kindness; but his heart wasyearning for other things.
Day after day he lingered still, however. The difficulties in the way ofescape thickened, instead of diminishing. In February, as I have said,the people had voted against secession. Not content with this, thegovernor called an extra session of the legislature, which proceeded tocarry the state out of the Union by fraud. On the sixth of May anordinance of separation was passed, to be submitted to the vote of thepeople on the eighth of June. But without waiting for the will of thepeople to be made manifest, the authors of this treason went on to actprecisely as if the state had seceded. A league was formed with theconfederate states, the control of all the troops raised in Tennesseewas given to Davis, and troops from the cotton states were rushed in tomake good the work thus begun. The June election, which took place underthis reign of terror, resulted as was to have been expected. Rebelsoldiers guarded the polls. Few dared to vote openly the Union ticket;while those who deposited a close ticket were "spotted." Thus timid menwere frightened from the ballot-box; while soldiers from the cottonstates voted in their places. Then, as it was charged, there were thegrossest frauds in counting the votes. And so Tennessee "seceded."
The state authorities had also achieved a politic stroke by disarmingthe people. Every owner of a gun was compelled to deliver it up, or paya heavy fine. The arms thus secured went to equip the troops raised forthe Confederacy; while the Union cause was left crippled anddefenceless. Many firelocks were of course kept concealed: some weretaken to pieces, and the pieces scattered,--the barrel here, the stockthere, and the lock in still another place,--to come together again onlyat the will of the owner: but, as a general thing, the loyalists couldnot be said to have arms. It was in those times that the precaution ofStackridge and his fellow-patriots was justified. The secrecy with whichthey had conducted their night-meetings and drills, though seeminglyunnecessary at first, saved them from much inconvenience when the fulltide of persecution set in. They were suspected indeed, and it wasbelieved they had arms; but they still met in safety, and the placewhere their arms were deposited remained undiscovered.
All this time, Penn had no money with which to defray the expenses oftravel. When his school was broken up, several hundred dollars were duehim for his services. This sum the trustees of the Academy placed to hiscredit in the Curryville Bank; but, in consequence of a recentenactment, designed to rob and annoy loyal men, he could not draw themoney without appearing personally, and first taking the oath ofallegiance to the confederate government. This, of course, was out ofthe question.
Meanwhile he learned to rough it on the mountain with the fugitives.Pomp taught him the use of the rifle, and he was soon able to shoot,dress, and cook his own dinner. He grew robust with the exercise andexposure. But every day his longing eyes turned towards the valley wherethe friends were whom he loved, and whom he resolved at all hazards tovisit again, if for the last time.
At length, one morning at breakfast, he informed Pomp and Cudjo of hisintention to leave them,--to return secretly to the village, placehimself under the protection of certain Unionists he knew, and attempt,with their assistance, to make his way out of the state.
"Why go down there at all?" said Pomp. "If you are determined to leaveus, let me be your guide. I will take you over the mountains intoKentucky, where you will be safe. It will be a long, hard journey; butyou are strong now; we will take it leisurely, killing our game by theway."
"You are very kind--and----"
Penn blushed and stammered. The truth was, he was willing to risk hislife to see Virginia once more; and the thought of quitting the statewithout bidding her good by was intolerable to him.
"And what?" said Pomp, smiling intelligently.
"And I may possibly be glad to accept your proposal. But I am determinedto try the other way first."
Both Pomp and Cudjo endeavored to dissuade him from the undertaking, butin vain. That evening he took his departure. The blacks accompanied himto the foot of the mountain. Notwithstanding the friendship andgratitude he had all along felt towards them, he had not foreseen howpainful would be the separation from them.
"I never quitted friends more reluctantly!" he said, choked with hisemotion. "Never, never shall I forget you--never shall I forget thoserambles on the mountains, those days and nights in the cave! Let me hopewe shall meet again, when I can make you some return for your kindness."
"We may meet again, and sooner than you suppose," said Pomp. "If youfind escape too difficult, be sure and come back to us. Ah, I seem toforesee that you will come back!"
With this prediction ringing in his ears, and filling him with vagueforebodings, Penn went his way; while the negroes, having shaken handswith him in sorrowful silence, returned to their savage mountain home,which had never looked so lonely to them as now, since their beloved andgentle guest had departed.
The night was not dark, and Penn, having been guided to a bridle-paththat led to the town, experienced no difficulty in finding his way onalone. He approached the minister's house from the fields. Although latein the evening, the windows were still lighted. He was surprised to seemen walking to and fro by the house, and to hear their footsteps on thepiazza floor. He drew near enough to discern that they carried muskets.Then the truth flashed upon him: they were soldiers guarding the house.
Whether they were there to protect the venerable Unionist frommob-violence, or to prevent his escape, Penn could only conjecture. Ineither case it would have been extremely indiscreet for him to enter thehouse. Bitter disappointment filled him, mingled with apprehensions forthe safety of his friends, and remorse at the thought that he himselfhad, although unintentionally, been instrumental in drawing down uponthem the vengeance of the secessionists.
Penn next thought of Stackridge. It was indeed upon that sturdy patriotthat he relied chiefly for aid in leaving the state. He took a last,lingering look at the minister's house,--the windows whose cheerfullight had so often greeted him on his way thither, in those delightfulwinter evenings which were gone, never to return,--the soldiers on thepiazza, symbolizing the reign of terror that had commenced,--and with adeep inward prayer that God would shield with his all-powerful hand thebeleaguered family, he once more crossed the fields.
By a circuitous route he came in sight of Stackridge's house. There werelights there also, although it must have been now near midnight. And asPenn discerned them, he became aware of loud voices engaged in angryaltercation around the farmer's door. It was no time for him toapproach. He stole away as noiselessly as he had come. In the still,quiet night he paused, asking himself what he should do.
The Academy was not far off. He remembered that he had left there, amongother things, a pocket Bible, a gift from his sister, which he wished topreserve. Perhaps it was there still; perhaps he could get in andrecover it. At all events, he had plenty of leisure on his hands, andcould afford to make the trial.
He heard the mounted patrol pass by, and waited for the sound of hoofsto die in the distance. Then cautiously he drew near the gloomy andsilent school-house. Not doubting but the door was locked,--for he stillhad the key with him which he had turned for the last time when hewalked out in defiance of the lynchers,--he resolved not to unlock it,but to keep in the rear of the building, and enter, if possible, by awindow.
The window was unfastened, as it had ever remained since he had openedit, on that memorable occasion, to communicate with Carl. Softly herai
sed the sash, and softly he crept in. His foot, however, struck anobject on the desk, and swept it down. It fell with a loud, rattlingsound upon the floor.
It was a musket; the owner of which bounded up on the instant from abench where he was lying, and seized Penn by the leg. The school-househad been turned into a barrack-room for recruits, and the late masterfound that he had descended upon a squad of confederate soldiers.
Lights were struck, and the sleepy sentinels, rubbing their eyes open,recognized, struggling in the arms of their companion, the unfortunateyoung Quaker.
"I knowed 'twas him! I knowed 'twas him!" cried his overjoyed captor,who proved to be no other than Silas Ropes's worthy friend Gad. "I heernhim gittin' inter the winder, but I kept dark till he knocked my gundown; then I grabbed him! He's a traitor, and this time will meet atraitor's doom!"
"My friends," said Penn, recovering from the agitation of his firstsurprise and struggle, "I am in your power. It is perhaps the best thingthat could happen to me; for I have committed no crime, and I cannotdoubt but that I shall receive justice all the sooner for this accident.You need not take the trouble to bind me; I shall not attempt toescape."
His captors, however, among whom he recognized with some uneasiness morethan one of those who had been engaged in lynching him, persisted inbinding him upon a bench, in no very comfortable position, and then seta guard over him for the remainder of the night.