Page 37 of Cudjo's Cave


  XXXVII.

  _CARL KEEPS HIS ENGAGEMENT._

  Of the two forms that had been seen on the ledge, the female was notVirginia, and the other was not Penn. A word of explanation isnecessary.

  Filled with hatred for her husband,--filled with shame and disgust, too,on hearing how he had caused his own mother to be whipped (for thesecret was out, thanks to Aunt Deb at the stove-pipe hole),--resolved inher soul never to forgive him, never even to see him again if she couldhelp it, yet intolerably wretched in her loneliness,--Salina had thatafternoon taken Toby into her counsel.

  "Toby, what are we to do?"

  "Dat's what I do'no' myself!" the sore old fellow confessed; even hissuperior wisdom, usually sufficient (in his own estimation) for thewhole family, failing him now. "When it comes to lickin' white women and'spec'able servants, ain't nobody safe. I's glad ol' massa and MissJinny's safe up dar in de cave; and I on'y wish we war safe up dar too."

  "Toby," said Salina, "we will go there. Can you find the way?"

  "Reckon I kin," said Toby, delighted at the proposal.

  They set out early. They succeeded in reaching the woods withoutexciting suspicion. They kept well to the south, in order to approachthe cave on the same side of the ravine from which Toby had discoveredit, or rather Penn near the entrance of it, before. He thought he wouldbe more sure to find it by that route. At the same time he avoided theburned woods, and, without knowing it, the soldiers.

  But, the best they could do, the daylight was gone when they came to theravine; and Toby could not find the place where he had previouslycrossed. He passed beyond it. Then they crossed at random in the easiestplace. Once on the side where the cave was, Toby decided that they wereabove it; and, owing to the steepness of the banks, it was necessary togo around over the rocks, at a short distance from the ravine, in orderto reach the shelf behind the thickets. It was in making this movementthat they had been seen to descend the ledge and pass behind the bushesat its base.

  "Now," said Toby, "you jes' wait while I makes a reckonoyster!"

  Salina, weary, sat down in the shadow of a juniper-tree.

  Toby made his reconnoissance, discovered nothing, and returned. She,sitting still there, had been more successful. She pointed.

  "What dar?" whispered Toby, frightened.

  "There is somebody. Don't you see? By those shrub-like things."

  "Dey ain't nobody dar!"--with a shiver.

  "Yes there is. I saw a man jump up. He is bending over something now,trying to lift it. It must be Penn, or some of his friends. Go softly,and see."

  Toby, imaginative, superstitious, did not like to move. But Salina urgedhim; and something must be done.

  "I--I's mos' afeard to! But dar's somebody, shore!"

  He advanced, with eyes strained wide and cold chills creeping over him.What was the man doing there? What was he trying to lift and drag alongthe ground? It was the body of another man.

  "Who dar?" said Toby.

  "Be quiet. Come here!" was the answer.

  "What! Carl! Carl! dat you? What you doin' dar? massy sakes!" said Toby.

  "I've got a prisoner," said Carl.

  "Dead! O de debil!" said Toby.

  "I've knocked him on the head a little, but he is not dead," said Carl."Be still, for there's forty more vithin hearing!"

  Toby, with mouth agape, and hands on knees, crouching, looked in theface of the lifeless man. That jaunty mustache, with the blood from thenostrils trickling into it, was unmistakable.

  "Dat Sprowl!" ejaculated the old negro, with horrified recoil.

  "He won't hurt you! Take holt! I pelief Ropes is coming, mit his men,now!"

  "Le' 'm drap, den. Wha' ye totin' on him fur?"

  Carl had quite recovered from his stupefaction. His wits were clearagain. Why did he not leave the body? His reasons against such a coursewere too many to be enumerated on the spot to Toby. In the first place,he had promised to take the captain to the cave; and he felt a stubbornpride in keeping his engagement. Secondly, the man might die if heabandoned him. Moreover, the troops arriving, and finding him, wouldknow at once what had happened; while, on the contrary, if both Carl andthe captain should be missing, it would be supposed that they had goneto make observations in another quarter; they would be waited for, andthus much time would be gained.

  Carl had all these arguments in his brain. But instead of stopping toexplain anything, he once more, and alone, lifted the head and shouldersof the limp man, and recommenced bearing him along.

  "Toby, who is that?"

  "Dat am Miss Salina."

  Carl asked no explanations. "Vimmen scream sometimes. Tell her she isnot to scream. You get her handkersheaf. And do not say it is Shprowl."

  "Who--what is it?" Salina inquired.

  "Our Carl! don't ye know?" said Toby. "He's got one ob dem secesh he'sknocked on de head."

  "Has he killed him?"

  "Part killed him, and part took him prisoner,--about six o' one and halfa dozen o' tudder. He say you's specfully 'quested not to scream; and hewants your hank'cher."

  "What does he want of it?"--giving it.

  "Dat he best know hisself; but if my 'pinion am axed, I should say, towipe de fellah's nose wiv."

  Having delivered this profound judgment, Toby carried the handkerchiefto Carl, who spread it over the wounded man's face.

  "That prewents her seeing him, and prewents his seeing the vay to thecave."

  "Who eber knowed you's sech a powerful smart chil'?" said old Toby,amazed.

  A new perception of Carl's character had burst suddenly, with awonderful light, upon his dazzled understanding. In the terror of theirfirst encounter, in this strange place, he had comprehended nothing ofthe situation. He had not even remembered that he last saw Carl in theguard-house, with irons on his wrists. It was like a fragment of somedream to find him here, holding the lifeless Lysander in his arms. Butnow he remembered; now he comprehended. Carl had saved him from tortureby engaging to bring this man to the cave; whom by some miracle ofcourage and valor, he had overcome and captured, and brought thus farover the lonely rocks. All was yet vague to the old negro's mind; but itwas nevertheless strange, great, prodigious. And this lad, this Carl,whom Penn had brought, a sort of vagabond, a little hungry beggar, toMr. Villars's house--that is to say, Toby's; whom the vain, tender,pompous, affectionate old servant had had the immense satisfaction ofadopting into the family, patronizing, scolding, tyrannizing over, andtenderly loving; who had always been to him "Dat chil'!" "datgood-for-nuffin'!" "dat mis'ble Carl!"--the same now loomed before hisimagination a hero. The simple spreading of the handkerchief over theface appeared to him a master-stroke of cool sagacity. He himself, withall that stupendous wisdom of his, would not have thought of that! Heactually found himself on the point of saying "Massa Carl!"

  Ah, this foolish old negro is not the only person who, in these times ofnational trouble, has been thus astonished! Carl is not the only herowho has suddenly emerged, to thrilled and wondering eyes, from thedisguises of common life. How many a beloved "good-for-nothing" has gonefrom our streets and firesides, to reappear far off in a vision ofglory! The school-fellows know not their comrade; the mother knows nother own son. The stripling, whose outgoing and incoming were so familiarto us,--impulsive, fun-loving, a little vain, a little selfish, apt tobe cross when the supper was not ready, apt to come late and make youcross when the supper was ready and waiting,--who ever guessed whatnobleness was in him! His country called, and he rose up a patriot. Thefatigue of marches, the hardships of camp and bivouac, the hard fare,the injustice that must be submitted to, all the terrible trials of thebody's strength and the soul's patient endurance,--these he bore withthe superb buoyancy of spirit which denotes the hero. Who was it thatcaught up the colors, and rushed forward with them into the thick of thebattle, after the fifth man who attempted it had been shot down? Notthat village loafer, who used to go about the streets dressed soshabbily? Yes, the same. He fell, covered with wounds and glory. Therusty, a
nd seemingly useless instrument we saw hang so long idle on thewalls of society, none dreamed to be a trumpet of sonorous note untilthe Soul came and blew a blast. And what has become of thatwhite-gloved, perfumed, handsome cousin of yours, devoted to hispleasures, weary even of those,--to whom life, with all its luxuries,had become a bore? He fell in the trenches at Wagner. He haddistinguished himself by his daring, his hardihood, his fiery love ofliberty. When the nation's alarum beat, his manhood stood erect; heshook himself; all his past frivolities were no more than dust to themane of this young lion. The war has proved useful if only in this, thatit has developed the latent heroism in our young men, and taught us whatis in humanity, in our fellows, in ourselves. Because it has called intoaction all this generosity and courage, if for no other cause, let usforgive its cruelty, though the chair of the beloved one be vacant, thebed unslept in, and the hand cold that penned the letters in that sacreddrawer, which cannot even now be opened without grief.

  As Toby had never been conscious what stuff there was in Carl, so he hadnever known how much he really loved, admired, and relied upon him. Hestood staring at him there in the moonlight as if he then for the firsttime perceived what a little prodigy he was.

  "Take holt, why don't you?" said Carl.

  And this time Toby obeyed: he secretly acknowledged the authority of amaster.

  "Sartin, sah!"

  He had checked himself when on the point of saying "Massa Carl;" but therespectful "sah" slipped from his tongue before he was aware of it.

  Among the bushes, and in the shadows of the rocks, they bore the body inswiftness and silence. Salina followed.

  In the cave the usual fire was burning; by the light of which onlyVirginia and her father were to be seen. The sisters fell into eachother's arms. Salina was softened: here, after all her sufferings, wasrefuge at last: here, in the warmth of a father's and a sister'saffection, was the only comfort she could hope for now, in the world shehad found so bitter.

  "Who is with you?" said the old man. "Toby? and Carl? What is thematter?"

  "I vants Mr. Hapgood, or Pomp, or Cudjo!" said Carl, laying down hisburden.

  "They have gone to bury the man in the rawine," said Virginia.

  Carl opened great eyes. "The man in the rawine? That's vair Ropes andthe soldiers have gone."

  "What soldiers?--Who is this?"

  "This is their waliant captain! I am wery sorry, ladies, but I havegiven him a leetle nose-pleed. Some vater, Toby! Your handkersheaf,ma'am, and wery much obliged."

  Salina stooped to take the handkerchief. A flash of the fire shone uponthe uncovered face. The eyes opened; they looked up, and met herslooking down.

  "Lysander!"

  "Sal, is it you? Where am I, anyhow?" And the husband tried to raisehimself. "Carl, what's this?"

  "Don't be wiolent!" said Carl, gently laying him down again, "and I villtell you. I vas your prisoner, and I vas showing you the cave. Veil,this is the cave; but things is a little inwerted. You are my prisoner."

  "Is that so?" said the astonished Lysander.

  "Wery much so," replied Carl.

  "Didn't somebody knock me on the head?"

  "I shouldn't be wastly surprised if somepody _did_ knock you on thehead."

  "Was it you?"

  "I rather sushpect it vas me."

  Lysander rubbed his bruised temple feebly, looking amazed.

  "But how came _she_ here?"

  "It vas she and Toby we saw going into the cave."

  "What's that?"--to Toby, bringing a gourd.

  "It is vater; it vill improve your wysiognomy. You can trink a little.You feel pretty sound in your witals, don't you? I vas careful not tohurt your witals," said Carl, kindly, raising Sprowl's head and holdingthe water for him to drink.

  Lysander, ungrateful, instead of drinking, started up with sudden fury,struck the gourd from him with one hand, and thrust the other into thepocket where his pistol was, at last accounts.

  "Vat is vanting?" Carl inquired, complacently.

  Lysander, fumbling in vain for his weapon, muttered, "Vengeance!"

  "Wery good," said Carl. "Ve vill discuss the question of wengeance, ifyou like."' And drawing the pistol from _his_ pocket, he coollypresented it at Sprowl's head. "Vat for you dodge? You think, maybe, thediscussion vould not be greatly to your adwantage?"

  Lysander felt for his sword, found that gone also, and muttered again,"Villain!"

  "Did somepody say somepody is a willain?" remarked Carl. "I should notbe wery much surprised if that vas so. Willains nowdays is cheap. I haveknown a great wariety since secesh times pegan. But as for yourparticular case, sir, I peg to give some adwice. There is some ladiespresent, and you must keep quiet. Do you remember how I vas kept quietven I vas _your_ prisoner? I had pracelets on. And do you remember I vasputting some supper in my pocket ven you took me to show you the cave?Veil, I make von great mishtake; instead of supper, vat I vas putting inmy pocket vas them wery pracelets!"

  And Carl produced the handcuffs. At that moment Penn and Cudjo arrived;and Lysander, observing them, submitted to his fate with beautifulresignation. The irons were put on, and Carl mounted guard over him withthe pistol.