Marcy, the Refugee
CHAPTER XVI.
A FRIEND IN GRAY.
Marcy Gray had seldom thought of his mother's overseer since he learnedthat he had been spirited away by armed and masked men, and, when hedid, it was to indulge in the hope that he would never see or hear ofhim again. He did not believe that Hanson would dare disregard thewarning of the Union men, who had "turned him loose, with orders neverto show his face in the settlement again;" but here he was, riding alongthe public road in broad daylight, without making the least effort atconcealment, and, to make the situation more alarming, he was riding oneof Captain Beardsley's horses. Acting upon the first thought that cameinto his mind, Marcy urged his filly forward, intending to speak to theman, and Hanson, nothing loath, turned his horse about to wait for him.
"I'm on hands agin, like a bad piece of money," he said, with a laugh.
"So I see," answered Marcy. "And I must say that I little expected tomeet you."
Hanson's response, and the way in which he acted, disheartened MarcyGray, for they gave him a clew to the course this enemy of his mother'shad marked out for himself. The first thing he did was to ride up andoffer Marcy his hand, and the boy took it, because he did not think itwould be policy to refuse. He wanted to find out what the man's planswere, and he could not do that by making him angry the first thing hedid. Then Hanson went on to say:
"But I'm back agin, all the same, and safe and sound, too. I hope youdidn't think I would let them few Yankees scare me away from my homealtogether? I belong on your plantation, and there's right where I amgoing before I am many hours older."
This was an astounding and terrifying statement, and it was a minute ortwo before Marcy could collect his wits sufficiently to reply to it.
"We never expected you to come back, and so I took your place," said heat length. "I am my mother's overseer now."
"You!" exclaimed Hanson, with a laugh. "What do you know about farmingand driving niggers? 'Taint gentleman's work, that aint, and you aint byno means suited to it. I'll take it off your hands now. 'Cording to mycontract, I can't leave till next month, any way, and, besides, I'velost right smart of time. I didn't leave the plantation of my own freewill; but that don't make no difference."
"We owe you a little money, and mother will give it to you any day youcall for it; but we don't ask you to make up any lost time," said Marcy,who couldn't bear the thought of having this sneaking Hanson on theplantation again.
"I know what my duty is," replied the overseer very decidedly, "and Imean to do it. I bargained with your mother for so much a year. I wantevery cent of that money, for I can't afford to do without it; but Ishan't ask for it till I have done twelve good solid months of work."
Marcy felt like yelling, and it was only by a great effort of will thathe controlled himself. He knew pretty nearly what was before him now. Hebelieved that Beardsley had kept track of Hanson; that he knew where hehad been all the while, and that he had brought him back to fill out hisunexpired term as overseer, because he had failed to induce Marcy andhis mother to employ Kelsey in his place. Hanson would make it hisbusiness to get on the track of that money. He would not succeed, ofcourse; but Mrs. Gray would not see a moment's peace during her wakinghours, or enjoy a moment's refreshing sleep at night, as long as Hansonremained on the place. Oh, why was not Aleck Webster on hand to tell himwhat to do in a case like this?
"I knowed your maw would be looking for me to come back and finish outmy time," continued Hanson, "but I was most afraid to come till I heardthat the coast was clear, and I wouldn't be in no danger of beingpestered by them Union men."
"There are some of them about here yet," said Marcy.
"Not many, there aint," replied the overseer, who seemed to understandthe situation perfectly. "The wust of them have went into the Yankeenavy; and them that's left aint men to be afraid of. Besides, I've got abody guard that won't put up with no nonsense from them or any otherUnion men. You know all about the Home Guards?"
"I heard of them for the first time this morning," said Marcytruthfully. "But then I have not been around much since I came home."
The last words slipped out before Marcy knew it; but Hanson seemed totake them as a matter of course, for he said in reply:
"I don't know as I blame you for keeping clost to home for a few days.You couldn't do no other way than you did do, but there's someonreasonable folks about who stick to it that you had oughter run thatthere gunboat on the ground. That's what Beardsley allowed to do, butthey didn't give him the chance. I wouldn't like to be one who hadanything to do with the burning of Beardsley's house. He's an officer inthe Home Guards, a leftenant or something, and he allows to hunt themmen down the first thing he does."
"Probably he knows where to look for them," said Marcy.
"If he don't he can guess pretty clost to the place," answered Hanson."But you're all right. Nobody in this settlement is going to let harmcome to you."
"When did you return, and how does it come that you are riding thecaptain's horse?"
"Oh, him and me has always been friends, and when he got Miss Brown towrite to me in Newbern that it was safe for me to come back and work myyear out on your plantation, and that he knew you and your maw waslooking for me to do it, as any honest man should, I come right to hishouse. I've been here three days, looking round and keeping sorter clostin doors, and allow to go up to your place this afternoon."
So it seemed that there was no help for it, at least for the present.The man had told him some things he was glad to know, and talked asthough he believed Marcy to be as good a rebel as he was himself.Perhaps he would be willing to go further and tell him how he, Marcy,stood in the estimation of the Home Guards.
"I suppose the object of that organization is to make Union men behavethemselves," he said, at a venture.
"You're mighty right," answered Hanson. "Likewise to see that all theprisoners about here, who was paroled at the Island, go back to the armywhere they belong. Some of 'em have been talking agin the 'Federacy in away we uns don't like to hear, and we're going to put a stop to all sichwork as that."
"No one asked me to join, and that is the reason I knew nothing aboutit," continued Marcy. "When you see Beardsley, will you tell him that Iwant to come in?"
If he expected the man to hesitate or raise objections he wasdisappointed, for Hanson answered readily:
"I'll do it. You'll get in easy enough, and I know Beardsley will beglad to have you. Some of our men aint got a thing in the way of guns,and I know you wouldn't mind lending some of yours that you don't need.Well, I must be piking along. I'll be up this afternoon, tell yourmaw."
"And it will be the worst news she ever heard," thought Marcy, as thetwo separated and rode away in different directions. "What he is up tonow I can't imagine; but he has strong backing, I know from the way hetalks. Mother has always been afraid that he would come back to troubleher, and here he is. And here am I without a friend to advise or assistme. I was almost sure that something like this would happen when AleckWebster and his friends deserted me."
But if Aleck was gone there was at least one man in the neighborhood whowas able and willing to take his place, and that was Ben Hawkins, theparoled prisoner, whom he encountered before he left Beardsley's gate aquarter of a mile behind. The man was sitting on his horse in the middleof the road, and the first words he spoke seemed to indicate that he waswaiting for Marcy.
"Who was that onery looking chap I met along here a spell ago ridingBeardsley's old clay-bank?" said Hawkins. "I seen you talking to him upthere."
"Oh, Mr. Hawkins," exclaimed Marcy, who had suddenly resolved to put acertain matter to the test then and there. "You saw and talked with aFederal scouting party that came through here this morning, and theofficer in command told me that you are a good friend of mine. Is thatso or not?"
"What do you want me to do to prove it?" asked the rebel in reply.
"Ob, a hundred things," answered Marcy. "But in the first place, do youknow anything about the Home Guards?"
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nbsp; "Being one of 'em I oughter know all about 'em," was the reply. "But notbeing pizen enough agin the Unionists to suit 'em, I have sorter got itinto my head that they are keeping some things from me. All the same, Iknow enough to be sartin sure that they mean harm to you."
"That is what I thought; and I am certain of it too, now that thisHanson has returned. He used to be my mother's overseer, and is the manwho was taken from his house and carried into the swamp."
"So that's the chap, is it?" exclaimed Hawkins. "I didn't know him, foryour mother hired him after I 'listed; but I've heard as much as I wantto know about him. Of course he is going back on the place to stay histime out?"
"That is what he says; but the worst of it is that he wants to make upthe time he lost by being carried away. Now, is there any way in which Ican stop that?"
"You can shoot him, I reckon. That's what I'd do for any man who keptshoving himself on me when he wasn't wanted, like this feller is shovinghimself on you and your maw."
Marcy made no reply, for nothing he could then think of would haveinduced him to carry things as far as that. Hawkins understood this, andafter thinking a moment he added:
"You can give his name to the fust Yankee officer you meet scoutingaround out here, or you can leave a note on Beardsley's gallery andShelby's, telling them that, if they don't get him off your place in alittle less than no time, some more of their buildings will go up insmoke. Where's the schooner that Beardsley used to run the blockade in?He'd ruther lose half his niggers than lose her."
"I know what you mean, but the trouble is I can't prove anything on him.I can't bear the thought of destroying his property just because I thinkhe is persecuting me."
"If you should blame everything that has happened to you on him youwould not be fur wrong," said Hawkins earnestly. "He's mighty savageagin you for not trying to make that gunboat cap'n quit putting him inirons----"
"How in the name of common sense could I stop it?" cried Marcy. "Ididn't volunteer to go on that boat (I blame Jonas for that), and wouldCaptain Benton have paid any attention to me if I had interceded forBeardsley? I might have brought myself into difficulty by it."
"Course," replied Hawkins. "A blind man could see that, but all the sameBeardsley means to even up with you 'cause he was ironed and you wasn't.He is first leftenant of the Home Guards, Colonel Shelby being thecaptain, and he's going to take you out'n your bed some night and sendyou to Williamston."
"What for?" exclaimed Marcy.
"And put you in jail there," continued Hawkins. "The lock-up is jammedfull of Union men already, but they'll find room for one more. And mindyou, after you onct get in you'll not come out till you promise to 'listin the Confederate army. That's the way they are doing now to putpatriotism into people who aint got any."
"Do you know when the Home Guards intend to come to our house?"
"No, I don't. I wisht I did, so't I could tell you when to be on thewatch for 'em; but that's one of the things they aint told me, and theonly way I can think of for you to beat 'em is to be on your guard nightand day, beginning now."
While this conversation was going on Marcy and his companion had beenriding slowly in the direction of Nashville. Just before they camewithin sight of the town they met a man dressed in a ragged uniform, andriding a mule that looked as though it had served through two or threehard campaigns. Marcy recognized him as a poor white of the Kelseystamp, and Hawkins told him in a whisper that he was a paroled prisonerlike himself, a friend of his, a member of his company and mess, andalso a Home Guard whom the officers were not afraid to trust. If Marcywould ride on and leave him alone with the man, he might be able toobtain some information from him. Marcy was glad to agree to thisprogramme, and it was duly carried out. He went ahead and waited half anhour in Nashville, and might have remained a still longer time had henot seen Hawkins ride a short distance down the road from the firstturn, and then wheel his horse and ride back again out of sight. Takingthis for a signal, Marcy mounted his filly and set out for home; and, ashe expected, found Hawkins in the lonely place in the road where he hadheld two interviews with Aleck Webster. He thought the man looked verysober, but before he could speak of it Hawkins said, in a thrillingwhisper:
"Mister Marcy, you aint safe in this here settlement one hour longer. Idunno but you had oughter be out of it now."
"What did that friend of yours tell you?" asked the boy, with adesperate effort to appear calm, although he knew that his face was aswhite as it could be.
"He said the Home Guards have got things fixed jest as they want 'em,and that they are liable to begin operations any time," answeredHawkins, who looked as uneasy as Marcy felt. "Beardsley won't hear tonothing but that you must be got rid of the very fust thing. You knowtoo much to be let loose any longer."
"I know that Beardsley was a smuggler, and believe I could have madetrouble for him by saying that much to Captain Benton; but I did not doit," replied Marcy. "I hadn't the heart to do it, and neither did Ithink he would dare do anything to me so long as the Yankees are sothick about here."
"There's where you made the biggest kind of a mistake," said the rebel,in a tone of disgust. "I don't see why you were so easy on him when youknow that he is doing all he can to pester you. My advice to you is toleave this very night."
"But where shall I go?" cried Marcy. "And how do I know but they willtake some sort of vengeance on my mother if they fail to find me?"
"Beardsley won't do the first thing to her, for mean as the Home Guardsare, there's some among 'em, and one of 'em is talking to you at thisminute, who won't by no means stand by and see him go as far as that.But if she should see them snake you out'n the house and tote you off tojail, don't you reckon that would worry her? Your best plan is to lightout while you can."
"But you have not yet told me where to go," Marcy reminded him.
"Put straight to the swamp and find those Union men," replied the rebel."There's some of 'em there now."
"But I don't know where to find them. The swamps along the coast cover agood deal of ground----"
"I know where to find 'em," interrupted Hawkins. "Now, I'll tell youwhat to do: you go straight home, pack up any little things you want totake with you for comfort, and when night comes get into one of yourboats and put straight down the bayou for Middle River. Look out furyourself, fur it's likely that the Yankees have posted sentries allalong the river, and if they chuck you into the guard-house, there's notelling when they will turn you loose. It might put you to some troubleto prove that you aint a Confederate spy. And when you get into MiddleRiver t'other side of Plymouth, you will find a friend on the bank whowill tell you what to do."
"Who will he be? What shall I call him?" asked Marcy.
"He will be old man Webster, the father of that sailor who promised tostand by you through thick and thin, and then went off and 'listed. He'shome now, and as soon as I leave you, I'll ride straight down to hishouse and tell him what sort of 'rangement me and you have come to. Oh,I am all right with the Union men, even if I do wear a gray jacket; andif they aint afraid to trust me you needn't be."
"I am not afraid to trust you," Marcy hastened to say. "But I don't liketo leave mother. It looks cowardly."
"You want her to have some peace of mind, don't you?" demanded Hawkins,almost angrily. "Well, she'll see a heap more of it if you will do as Itell you and clear yourself, than she will if you stay to home. As longas I am foot-loose, I'll make it my business to go to your house asoften as any of the Home Guards go there, and the first one who don't dojest right will have to answer to me fur it."
"I thank you for the assurance," began Marcy.
"I aint got no time to hear you talk that a way," exclaimed the rebel."What I want to know is whether you are going to foller my advice ornot."
Marcy said very emphatically that he was.
"Cause, if you don't, you are liable to be started on the road to jailbefore this time tomorrer," added Hawkins.
"I'll do just as you have told me, and there's my ha
nd on it," repliedMarcy. "You will be sure to arrange matters so that Mr. Webster willmeet me on the river?"
The soldier assured him that he could be depended on to do as he hadagreed, and after another lingering hand-shake they separated, Hawkinsto carry out his part of the programme, and Marcy to take a budget ofmost unwelcome news to his mother. But she bore up under it better thanhe did. She declared that her heart would be much lighter if she knewher son was in full possession of his liberty, even though he wascompelled to hide in the swamp for the time being, than it would be ifshe were called upon to remember, every hour in the day, that he wasshut up in jail, with a fair prospect before him of being forced intothe Confederate army, and she urged him to carry out Hawkins'sinstructions to the very letter. And in order to show him that she meanthe should do that very thing, she began at once to pack his valise. Whenshe left the room for a few minutes, Marcy, having become satisfied thatHawkins's plan was the best, and in fact the only one that could befollowed under the circumstances, seated himself at the desk, pulled outa sheet of foolscap paper, and began writing a short note upon it. Whilethus engaged his face wore a most determined expression, and when thenote was finished he put it into his pocket. But he said nothing to hismother about it.
The hours were a long time in dragging themselves away, but Marcy andhis mother had many small details to arrange and many things to talkabout, and only once was he out of her presence. That was when he made atrip to the creek, in company with Julius, to select the boat that wasto take him down the river. He raised the black boy very high in his ownestimation by making a confidant of him and promising to take him alongas his servant, and in order to provide against the upsetting of hisplan by some awkward blunder on the part of Julius, he told him justwhat he was going to do when darkness came to conceal his movements, andhow he intended to do it. It was well for him that he went to so muchtrouble, as we shall presently see.
When the afternoon was about half spent Hanson and his trunk made theirappearance in one of Beardsley's wagons, and Mrs. Gray and Marcylistened to his story in the kitchen--the only room about the house towhich the man had ever been admitted. And the kitchen wasn't in thehouse, but a short distance away from it, and under its own roof. Theoverseer made his statement to Mrs. Gray in much the same words that hehad made it to Marcy; and when the lady made a mistake by saying that,after the experience he had already had with the Union men, she shouldthink he would be afraid to return to that plantation, the man answeredin tones so insolent and savage that Marcy felt inclined to resent themon the spot.
"Them villains toted me off onct, Miss Gray, but they won't never do itagain. I know who they were, I've got friends enough around me to hangevery one of 'em, and I'm going to do it before I ever leave this place.You hear me?"
Those were the words he used, but his manner seemed to say: "I am onthis plantation with the intention of remaining. I came for a purpose,and you dare not turn me off." Marcy understood that to be his meaning,and made up his mind that he and Hanson would have a settlement in avery few days. Mrs. Gray understood him, but she did not give expressionto the fears that came upon her, for she knew that by so doing she woulddishearten her son who, just, then, needed all the encouragement shecould give him.
It began to grow dark about supper time, and Julius came slouching intothe sitting-room as if he had no particular business there, but inreality to listen to the instructions that Marcy had promised to haveready for him at that time.
"You will find the guns and things that you are to hide on the floor ofmy room," said the boy. "My revolvers, fowling-piece, and a good supplyof ammunition are on my bed; but you must not touch them. They are to gowith us to the swamp. Be as sly as you can, for, if the Home Guardscatch you at the work, they will give you something you never had yet--astriped shirt."
During the next hour Julius was in and out of the house several times,and on each occasion he took something away with him; while Marcy andhis mother sat side by side on the sofa trying, as Marcy put it, "to dotalking enough to last them during the separation that was soon tocome." At last Julius moved silently along the hall and appeared at thedoor of the sitting-room with a heavy valise in his hand, and a bundleof quilts and blankets thrown over his shoulder.
"Dis all," he whispered, in his short, jerky way, "an' you best begettin' out'n dar. Good-by, missus. Julius gwine run now like oleMose."
"You haven't seen or heard anything suspicious, have you?"
"Oh, hursh, honey," was the reply. "If Julius hear sumfin, don't youreckon he got sense 'nough to tell? You best be gettin' out'n dar 'foredey come. Good-by, missus."
"Go ahead with those things, and I will be at the boat by the time youare," said Marcy.
Julius disappeared, but it was not so easy for his master to follow himas it was to talk about it. He found it hard to tear himself away, andlingered long over the parting so long, in fact, that Julius grew tiredof waiting for him. He placed the valise and blankets in the bow of theboat, made sure for the twentieth time that the little craft was readyfor the start, and then sauntered back to the house to see why Marcy didnot come. But he did not find the coast clear this time. Just as he waspassing through the gate he heard a slight rustling in the bushes thatlined the carriageway on both sides. Without waiting a second to seewhat made the noise, the quick-witted darky took to his heels; but,before he had made half a dozen steps, a man stepped into thecarriage-way in front of him and seized him by the arm. Julius lookedup, and saw that he was in the grasp of Captain Beardsley.
"None of that, you little varmint," said the captain. "You stay herewith me."
As he spoke he tightened his grasp and began dragging his prisonertoward the concealment from which he had just emerged; whereupon theblack boy set up a yell that could have been heard half a mile away. Andwhat was more, he kept on yelling until Beardsley clapped his big handover his mouth, and put a stop to the performance.