CHAPTER IX.

  A Union Family.

  After two days' sail, the Ticonderoga arrived at Phillips's Landing, whereshe had been ordered to take her station; for the Admiral had receivedinformation that the rebel General Marmaduke was preparing to cross theriver, with his forces, at that place.

  They came to anchor in front of a large plantation, owned by the man afterwhom the place was named. In a short time, a boat, rowed by two stoutnegroes, and which contained two ladies and a gentleman, came alongside.

  The captain received them, as they came upon the quarter-deck, and thegentleman, after introducing himself as Mr. Phillips, and apologizing forthe liberty they had taken in coming on board, asked if the captain couldfurnish them with some Northern papers. They lived in an out-of-the-wayplace, he said, where boats seldom landed, for fear of the guerrillas, andthey were entirely ignorant of what was going on.

  The captain seemed much pleased with his visitors. After complying withtheir request, he conducted them down into the cabin, where they passed anhour in conversation. When they were about to take their departure, theyinvited the captain and his officers to call on them, and assured themthat there were no rebels in the vicinity.

  The captain was an old sailor, and had been in the service so long that hewas inclined to be suspicious of any thing that looked like friendship onthe part of a person living in an enemy's country. But, after calling onMr. Phillips's family a few times, without discovering any thing toconfirm his suspicions, he allowed both officers and men to go ashore atall times; and soon quite an intimacy sprung up between them and thepeople of the plantation, and dinner parties and horseback rides were theorder of the day.

  Frank had been elected caterer of his mess, and as he was obliged tofurnish provisions, he had a good excuse for being ashore most of histime. He became a regular visitor at the plantation, and was soon wellacquainted with each member of the family. They all professed to beunconditional Union people, with the exception of the youngest daughter,who boldly stated that her sympathies were, and always had been, with theSouth; and she and Frank had many a long argument about the war.

  Things went on thus for a considerable time, when, early one morning, asFrank was on his way to the plantation, to buy his marketing, a negro methim, as he was ascending the hill that led to the quarters, and said:

  "I'd like to speak just one word with you, young master."

  "Well, what is it, uncle?" said Frank; "talk away."

  "Let us move on, this way first, for I don't want them to see us from thehouse."

  Frank followed the negro behind one of the cabins, and the lattercontinued:

  "I'm afraid you and all the officers on your boat will be captured one ofthese days."

  "What do you mean?" inquired Frank, in surprise, half inclined to thinkthat the negro was crazy.

  "I suppose you don't know that my master and mistress, and all the whitefolks on the plantation, are rebels, do you?"

  "No; and I don't believe they are."

  "Yes, they are. My master is a Major in the rebel army; and that MissAnnie you come to see every day has got a sweetheart in the army, and shetells him every thing you say. Besides, they send a mail across the river,here, twice every month. I took one across myself, night before last."

  "I believe you're lying to me, you old rascal," exclaimed Frank.

  "No, young master," answered the negro; "every word I have told you isgospel truth. You see, my daughter waits on Miss Annie, and I find outevery thing."

  "You say Miss Phillips has a sweetheart in the army?"

  "Yes; and he was here to see her not long ago. He is a lieutenant, and hasgone up to Conway's Point, with two cannons, to fire into steamers. Hisname is Miller; and you would know him from a long scar on his left cheek.Wasn't Miss Annie on board your boat two days ago?"

  "Yes, I believe so."

  "Well, she stole a book."

  "A book!" repeated Frank. "What kind of a book?"

  "I don't know the name of it. It was a small book, and had lead fastenedto the covers."

  "By gracious!" exclaimed Frank, "that was the captain's signal-book."

  "Yes; she told my daughter that she took it out of the captain's room."

  Frank did not stop to buy any marketing, but hastily catching up hisbasket, he hurried back to the vessel.

  "Orderly," he exclaimed, as he approached the marine who always stood atthe cabin door, "ask the captain if I may see him."

  "He hasn't got up yet, sir."

  "That makes no difference. Tell him that I have something particular tosay to him."

  The orderly went into the cabin, and, in a few moments, returned, andsaid:

  "The captain says walk in, sir."

  "Captain," said Frank, after he had closed the door carefully behind him,"have you lost your signal-book?"

  "No, I guess not;" answered the captain, in a tone of surprise. "Whatmakes you ask?"

  "I heard, a few moments ago, that it had been stolen from you."

  "I have not had occasion to use it for two or three weeks," answered thecaptain, getting out of bed; "but I know exactly where I put it;" and heopened a drawer in the sideboard, and commenced to overhaul the contents.

  "Set me down for a landlubber," he exclaimed, at length, "if it hasn'tbeen stolen. It isn't here, at any rate."

  Frank then related the conversation which had taken place between himselfand the negro, and the captain continued:

  "Well, I always thought those folks had some object in view, or they wouldnot have been so friendly. I can't reproach myself for neglecting my duty,for I watched them pretty closely."

  "I wonder how that girl knew that the signal-book was in that drawer,"said Frank.

  "I suppose she must have seen me put it in there," said the captain. "Now,the question is, now to go to work to recover it. It will do no good tosearch the house."

  "If you will leave the matter in my hands, sir," said Frank, "I will agreeto recover the signal-book, and capture that mail-bag which they intend tosend across the river in a few days."

  "Well," said the captain, "it was you who first knew that the signal-bookwas gone, and I believe you ought to have the honor of sifting the matterto the bottom. Find out all you can, and call on me for any assistance youmay need."

  Frank immediately returned to the plantation, and started toward thequarters, in quest of the negro who had given him the information, whom hefound chopping wood in front of one of the cabins.

  "See here, uncle," he exclaimed, "I want you to keep me posted on all thatgoes on here on the plantation; and tell your daughter to find out whenthat rebel lieutenant is coming here again, and when they intend to sendthat mail across the river."

  "I will do my best, young master," answered the negro. "But you won't tellany one what I have said to you? I shall be killed, sure, if you do"

  "No, uncle, I shan't betray you; so don't be afraid," said Frank; and,after purchasing some articles which they needed in the mess, he returnedon board the boat.

  A week passed on, but nothing further was developed. The officers of thevessel still continued to visit the plantation, and Mr. Phillips and hisfamily always seemed glad to see them, and evidently did all in theirpower to make their visits agreeable.

  As soon as Frank had time to think the matter over, he wondered why he hadnot known that something suspicious was going on. He remembered now thatMr. Phillips had often questioned him closely concerning the manner inwhich the gun-boats were stationed along the river, and the distance theywere apart. And he thought of other questions which had been asked him bythe family, which, although they did not seem strange at the time, nowseemed suspicious. At first he had been inclined to doubt the negro'sstory; but his doubts were soon removed by the appearance of a transport,which was completely riddled with shot; and her captain reported that theyhad been fired into by a battery of two guns, at Conway's Point. Frankknew that it was the work of the rebel lieutenant, and he hoped that itwould soon be his fortune to m
eet him face to face.

  One evening, just after supper, the negro appeared on the bank, with somechickens in his hand, which was a signal to Frank that he had something tocommunicate. He immediately set off alone, in a skiff. When he reached theshore, the negro informed him that the rebel lieutenant was expected at theplantation that evening, and that he would bring with him the mail, whichwas to be carried across the river at midnight.

  After paying the negro for his chickens, in order to deceive any one whomight be watching them, Frank returned to the vessel, and informed thecaptain that, if he would give him twenty men, he would fulfill hispromise. He did not acquaint him with what he had learned, however, forfear that the captain would send an officer with him, and thus rob him ofthe laurels now almost within his grasp.

  As soon as it was dark, Frank picked out the men he wished to accompanyhim, and started off. His first care was to quietly surround the house,after he had placed his men to his satisfaction, he removed his sword,thrust a brace of revolvers into his pocket, and walked up and knocked atthe door. It was opened by the youngest of the girls, who started back andturned pale when she saw the young officer; but instantly recovering herpresence of mind, she exclaimed:

  "Good evening, Mr. Nelson; walk in. Allow me to introduce to you mycousin, Mr. Williams," she continued, as they entered the parlor.

  As she spoke, a tall, handsome young man rose from his seat, and made alow bow. It was none other than Lieutenant Miller; for there was the scaron his cheek, which had been described to him by the negro.

  After returning the rebel's salutation, Frank seated himself on the sofa,and said:

  "I shall trouble you only a moment. I merely came here on a little matterof business. I understand that there is a rebel mail to be carried acrossthe river, from this house, to-night."

  The suddenness with which this announcement was made was astounding. Mrs.Phillips appeared ready to faint; Annie turned very pale; and thelieutenant raised his hand to his breast, as if about to draw a weapon.

  "What do you mean, sir?" inquired Mr. Phillips, with well-feignedsurprise.

  "I mean," answered Frank, "that, since we anchored opposite this house, wehave been associating with the worst kind of rebels. Put down your hand,Lieutenant Miller! If I see you make that move again, I shall be obligedto shoot you. You have professed to be Union people," continued Frank,settling himself back in his seat, and coolly crossing his legs, "and havebeen treated as such; you have, however, attempted to betray us, bycommunicating such of our plans and movements as you could learn to therebels. But you have been discovered at last. You, gentlemen, will pleaseconsider yourselves my prisoners. Miss Phillips, have the kindness toproduce that mail-bag, and the signal-book you took from the captain. Ifyou refuse, I shall be obliged to take you on board the ship, as aprisoner."

  The girl saw that there was no alternative, and she pulled from under thesofa, where Frank sat, the mail-bag, which appeared to be well filled withletters, and dispatched a servant to her room after the signal-book, whichwas to have been sent across the river with the mail.

  After Frank had relieved the lieutenant of his weapons, he called two ofhis men into the house, and, after delivering the prisoners into theircharge, returned to the vessel.

  That evening the captain examined the mail, and found several letterswhich showed, beyond a doubt, that their prisoners were connected with therebel army; and they were, accordingly, sent to the Admiral, on the firststeamer that went up the river.

  About two weeks afterward, the captain of the Ticonderoga received ordersto proceed with his vessel to Helena, and take command of an expeditionwhich was preparing to start down the Yazoo Pass. They found the fleet,consisting of the Manhattan, six "tin-clads," and several transports,loaded with troops, assembled in Moon Lake, which was about six miles fromthe Mississippi River; and, on the 23d day of February, they entered thepass, the Ticonderoga leading the way.

  The west shore of Moon Lake was bounded by a swamp, through which ran thepass, which was just wide enough to admit one good-sized vessel. It wasfilled with trees, which stood so close together that it seemed impossibleto work a passage through them; and the men on deck were constantly indanger of being killed by falling limbs. They advanced slowly, sometimesmaking not more than four miles in a day; and it was almost two weeksbefore they reached Coldwater River.