Marcy, the Refugee

"That is what he says; but the worst of it is that he wants to make up the time he lost by being carried away. Now, is there any way in which I can stop that?"

"You can shoot him, I reckon. That's what I'd do for any man who kept shoving himself on me when he wasn't wanted, like this feller is shoving himself on you and your maw."

Marcy made no reply, for nothing he could then think of would have induced him to carry things as far as that. Hawkins understood this, and after thinking a moment he added:

"You can give his name to the fust Yankee officer you meet scouting around out here, or you can leave a note on Beardsley's gallery and Shelby's, telling them that, if they don't get him off your place in a little less than no time, some more of their buildings will go up in smoke. 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 think he is persecuting me."

"If you should blame everything that has happened to you on him you would not be fur wrong," said Hawkins earnestly. "He's mighty savage agin you for not trying to make that gunboat cap'n quit putting him in irons – "

"How in the name of common sense could I stop it?" cried Marcy. "I didn't volunteer to go on that boat (I blame Jonas for that), and would Captain Benton have paid any attention to me if I had interceded for Beardsley? I might have brought myself into difficulty by it."

"Course," replied Hawkins. "A blind man could see that, but all the same Beardsley 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 the captain, and he's going to take you out'n your bed some night and send you to Williamston."

"What for?" exclaimed Marcy.

"And put you in jail there," continued Hawkins. "The lock-up is jammed full of Union men already, but they'll find room for one more. And mind you, after you onct get in you'll not come out till you promise to 'list in the Confederate army. That's the way they are doing now to put patriotism 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 the watch for 'em; but that's one of the things they aint told me, and the only way I can think of for you to beat 'em is to be on your guard night and day, beginning now."

While this conversation was going on Marcy and his companion had been riding slowly in the direction of Nashville. Just before they came within sight of the town they met a man dressed in a ragged uniform, and riding a mule that looked as though it had served through two or three hard campaigns. Marcy recognized him as a poor white of the Kelsey stamp, and Hawkins told him in a whisper that he was a paroled prisoner like himself, a friend of his, a member of his company and mess, and also a Home Guard whom the officers were not afraid to trust. If Marcy would ride on and leave him alone with the man, he might be able to obtain some information from him. Marcy was glad to agree to this programme, and it was duly carried out. He went ahead and waited half an hour in Nashville, and might have remained a still longer time had he not seen Hawkins ride a short distance down the road from the first turn, and then wheel his horse and ride back again out of sight. Taking this for a signal, Marcy mounted his filly and set out for home; and, as he expected, found Hawkins in the lonely place in the road where he had held two interviews with Aleck Webster. He thought the man looked very sober, but before he could speak of it Hawkins said, in a thrilling whisper:

"Mister Marcy, you aint safe in this here settlement one hour longer. I dunno but you had oughter be out of it now."

"What did that friend of yours tell you?" asked the boy, with a desperate effort to appear calm, although he knew that his face was as white 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," answered Hawkins, who looked as uneasy as Marcy felt. "Beardsley won't hear to nothing but that you must be got rid of the very fust thing. You know too much to be let loose any longer."

"I know that Beardsley was a smuggler, and believe I could have made trouble for him by saying that much to Captain Benton; but I did not do it," replied Marcy. "I hadn't the heart to do it, and neither did I think he would dare do anything to me so long as the Yankees are so thick 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 you know that he is doing all he can to pester you. My advice to you is to leave this very night."

"But where shall I go?" cried Marcy. "And how do I know but they will take 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 Guards are, there's some among 'em, and one of 'em is talking to you at this minute, 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 to jail, don't you reckon that would worry her? Your best plan is to light out 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 a good deal of ground – "

"I know where to find 'em," interrupted Hawkins. "Now, I'll tell you what to do: you go straight home, pack up any little things you want to take with you for comfort, and when night comes get into one of your boats and put straight down the bayou for Middle River. Look out fur yourself, fur it's likely that the Yankees have posted sentries all along the river, and if they chuck you into the guard-house, there's no telling when they will turn you loose. It might put you to some trouble to prove that you aint a Confederate spy. And when you get into Middle River t'other side of Plymouth, you will find a friend on the bank who will 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 to stand by you through thick and thin, and then went off and 'listed. He's home now, and as soon as I leave you, I'll ride straight down to his house 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; and if 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 like to 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 I tell you and clear yourself, than she will if you stay to home. As long as I am foot-loose, I'll make it my business to go to your house as often as any of the Home Guards go there, and the first one who don't do jest 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 or not."

Marcy said very emphatically that he was.

"Cause, if you don't, you are liable to be started on the road to jail before this time tomorrer," added Hawkins.

"I'll do just as you have told me, and there's my hand on it," replied Marcy. "You will be sure to arrange matters so that Mr. Webster will meet me on the river?"

The soldier assured him that he could be depended on to do as he had agreed, and after another lingering hand-shake they separated, Hawkins to carry out his part of the programme, and Marcy to take a budget of most unwelcome news to his mother. But she bore up under it better than he did. She declared that her heart would be much lighter if she knew her son was in full possession of his liberty, even though he was compelled to hide in the swamp for the time being, than it would be if she were called upon to remember, every hour in the day, that he was shut up in jail, with a fair prospect before him of being forced into the Confederate army, and she urged him to carry out Hawkins's instructions to the very letter. And in order to show him that she meant he should do that very thing, she began at once to pack his valise. When she left the room for a few minutes, Marcy, having become satisfied that Hawkins's plan was the best, and in fact the only one that could be followed under the circumstances, seated himself at the desk, pulled out a sheet of foolscap paper, and began writing a short note upon it. While thus engaged his face wore a most determined expression, and when the note was finished he put it into his pocket. But he said nothing to his mother about it.

The hours were a long time in dragging themselves away, but Marcy and his mother had many small details to arrange and many things to talk about, and only once was he out of her presence. That was when he made a trip to the creek, in company with Julius, to select the boat that was to take him down the river. He raised the black boy very high in his own estimation by making a confidant of him and promising to take him along as his servant, and in order to provide against the upsetting of his plan by some awkward blunder on the part of Julius, he told him just what he was going to do when darkness came to conceal his movements, and how he intended to do it. It was well for him that he went to so much trouble, as we shall presently see.

When the afternoon was about half spent Hanson and his trunk made their appearance in one of Beardsley's wagons, and Mrs. Gray and Marcy listened to his story in the kitchen – the only room about the house to which the man had ever been admitted. And the kitchen wasn't in the house, but a short distance away from it, and under its own roof. The overseer made his statement to Mrs. Gray in much the same words that he had 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 should think he would be afraid to return to that plantation, the man answered in tones so insolent and savage that Marcy felt inclined to resent them on the spot.

"Them villains toted me off onct, Miss Gray, but they won't never do it again. I know who they were, I've got friends enough around me to hang every 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 on this 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 a very few days. Mrs. Gray understood him, but she did not give expression to the fears that came upon her, for she knew that by so doing she would dishearten her son who, just, then, needed all the encouragement she could give him.

It began to grow dark about supper time, and Julius came slouching into the sitting-room as if he had no particular business there, but in reality to listen to the instructions that Marcy had promised to have ready for him at that time.

"You will find the guns and things that you are to hide on the floor of my room," said the boy. "My revolvers, fowling-piece, and a good supply of ammunition are on my bed; but you must not touch them. They are to go with us to the swamp. Be as sly as you can, for, if the Home Guards catch you at the work, they will give you something you never had yet – a striped 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 and his mother sat side by side on the sofa trying, as Marcy put it, "to do talking enough to last them during the separation that was soon to come." At last Julius moved silently along the hall and appeared at the door of the sitting-room with a heavy valise in his hand, and a bundle of quilts and blankets thrown over his shoulder.

"Dis all," he whispered, in his short, jerky way, "an' you best be gettin' out'n dar. Good-by, missus. Julius gwine run now like ole Mose."

"You haven't seen or heard anything suspicious, have you?"

"Oh, hursh, honey," was the reply. "If Julius hear sumfin, don't you reckon he got sense 'nough to tell? You best be gettin' out'n dar 'fore dey come. Good-by, missus."

"Go ahead with those things, and I will be at the boat by the time you are," said Marcy.

Julius disappeared, but it was not so easy for his master to follow him as it was to talk about it. He found it hard to tear himself away, and lingered long over the parting so long, in fact, that Julius grew tired of waiting for him. He placed the valise and blankets in the bow of the boat, made sure for the twentieth time that the little craft was ready for the start, and then sauntered back to the house to see why Marcy did not come. But he did not find the coast clear this time. Just as he was passing through the gate he heard a slight rustling in the bushes that lined the carriageway on both sides. Without waiting a second to see what made the noise, the quick-witted darky took to his heels; but, before he had made half a dozen steps, a man stepped into the carriage-way in front of him and seized him by the arm. Julius looked up, and saw that he was in the grasp of Captain Beardsley.

"None of that, you little varmint," said the captain. "You stay here with me."

As he spoke he tightened his grasp and began dragging his prisoner toward the concealment from which he had just emerged; whereupon the black boy set up a yell that could have been heard half a mile away. And what was more, he kept on yelling until Beardsley clapped his big hand over his mouth, and put a stop to the performance.

CHAPTER XVII.

MARCY TAKES TO THE SWAMP

The little darky was not very badly frightened on his own account – he never got that way unless he saw or heard something he could not understand – but he was overwhelmed with anxiety for Marcy Gray, who had not yet left the presence of his mother. Julius believed that the dwelling had been surrounded by the Home Guards while he was stowing the valise and blankets in the boat, and if that proved to be the case, Marcy would in all probability start for Williamston jail instead of the swamp. The black boy thought of these things in an instant of time, and did what he could to upset the plans of the Home Guards by yelling at the top of his voice.

"Keep still, you little fule," said Beardsley, in an angry whisper.

"Nobody's going to hurt you."

"Aint, hey?" exclaimed a second man, who at that moment came upon the scene. "I'll hurt him to-morrow, I bet you; I'll have him brung into the field; and he has heard me talk often enough to know what them words mean."

Just then Julius succeeded in freeing himself from Beardsley's grasp, and it was well for him that he did so, for the man had almost smothered him by holding his nose between his thumb and fore-finger at the same time that he covered his mouth with the rest of his hand. The negro gasped once or twice, and then sank to the ground like a piece of wet rope.

"All right. Let him lay there till he gets ready to get up," said Captain Beardsley. "Where's the men? Where's Shelby!"

"The men started on a run for the house the minute that black villain yelled," replied Hanson; for he was the one who came to Beardsley's assistance. "Shelby is round on the other side watching the back door, and he sent me to see what the fursing was about. Now I'll go back and tell him."

"And be sure that you and him keep out of sight when Marcy is brought out," cautioned Beardsley. "You don't want to let him get a sight at ary one of you, for there's no telling when he will have the power on his own side."

The overseer hastened away, trusting more to the darkness than to the bushes in the yard to conceal him from Mrs. Gray's view and Marcy's, should either of them chance to look out at the window, and the captain moved a few steps nearer to the carriage-way, so that he could look at the house through the branches of an evergreen. When he first peeped out the front windows were all dark; but presently lights began to appear here and there, heavy steps and loud angry voices were heard in the house, and finally the front door opened, and a man, carrying a lighted lamp in his hand, came out and walked the whole length of it. Captain Beardsley was surprised, and he felt uncomfortable, too. If the boy of whom they were in search was in the house he ought to have been discovered before this time; and if he had escaped, where could he have gone unless it was to Plymouth or to the Union men who were hidden in the swamp? If he had gone to either place Captain Beardsley knew it meant the loss of more buildings to him and Colonel Shelby.

"And if he's went off it is bekase some traitor or 'nother in our company told him he'd better," soliloquized Beardsley, when he saw the lights shining from the windows of the upper rooms. "Julius, come here. I want to ask you something."

The black boy had by this time recovered his breath and strength enough to sit up. He had all his wits about him, and was as much interested in what was going on in the house as Captain Beardsley himself. He saw the lights ascend from the lower rooms to those in the second story, and finally he saw them in the garret and in the observatory on the roof; and when no shout of triumph, or any sound to indicate that there was a disturbance in the house, came to his ears to tell him that his master had been traced to his hiding-place and captured, the wild hope seized upon him that Marcy, in some mysterious manner, had succeeded in eluding the Home Guards. If that was the case he would of course make the best of his way to the boat; and if he got there before Julius did he would shove off alone, and Julius would be left behind to labor under the lash of the overseer. He thought he would rather die than do that, but how could he escape from Beardsley and reach the creek in time to meet Marcy there? When he heard the captain calling to him he got upon his feet and approached the carriage-way, just as Beardsley bent his head almost to the ground, to watch a light that was shining from one of the cellar windows. He held that position for a moment, and then a roar like that of a thousand Niagaras rang in his ears and all was blank to him. He sank limp and motionless to the ground, while Julius took to his heels and disappeared through the gate. Half an hour later, when the Home Guards came out of the house without finding Marcy Gray or anything that could be used as evidence against him, they were astounded and greatly alarmed to find Captain Beardsley lying unconscious in the carriageway.

And where was Marcy all this time! When the black boy's first note of warning fell upon his ear he was imprinting a farewell kiss upon his mother's lips and giving her a last embrace; but they fell apart instantly when they heard that wild cry, for they knew what it meant.

"There they are!" gasped Mrs. Gray. "Marcy, I am afraid I have detained you too long."

"You have not kept me a moment," said Marcy quickly, "for I was no more anxious to go than you were to have me. Keep them in the house as long as you can, and I will go into the cellar and try to slip through one of the windows into the garden. Poor Julius will be broken-hearted when he finds that I went without him. Once more good-by, and don't expect to see me under a week."

Pressing as the need for haste was, Marcy snatched another farewell kiss and ran out of the room, taking care not to pass between a window and a lamp that stood on the centre-table. He caught his cap from the rack as he hurried through the hall, and in less time than it takes to tell it, was standing before an open cellar window, waiting and listening. His ears told him when the Home Guards charged upon the house and entered it through the back and side doors, and believing that the sentries, if there had been any posted outside, would be wholly engrossed with what was going on in the dwelling, he seized upon that particular moment to make his attempt at escape. Slowly and carefully he crawled up into the window, and when he raised his head above the ground all he could see were bushes and trees and a starlit sky, and all he could hear was the murmur of voices in the sitting-room. If the doors were guarded, as it was reasonable to suppose they were, this particular cellar window was not, and Marcy made haste to crawl out of it and across an intervening flower-bed to the friendly shelter of a thicket of bushes beyond. He did not linger there an instant, but taking it for granted that Ben Hawkins was with the Home Guards, and remembering that the man had promised to see that they behaved themselves while they were in his mother's house, he started at once for the creek, crawling on his hands and knees until he was sure he had passed beyond the sentries that he thought ought to have been left in the yard, and then he sprang up and ran like a deer. He hardly knew when he reached the fence, over which he went as easily as though he had been furnished with wings, but he knew when he halted on the bank of the creek and caught Julius in the act of shoving off with the boat. Thinking only of Captain Beardsley and the overseer and his whip, the frightened black boy could not be prevailed upon to stop until he had pushed the boat to the middle of the stream, where he felt comparatively safe; and then he looked over his shoulder to see who his pursuer was.

"Why, honey!" he exclaimed, as he got out the oars and backed the boat toward the place where Marcy was standing. "Was dat you? What you doin' hyar? How come dey don't cotch you in de house?"

"Come here quick, and take me on board," replied Marcy; and he continued, as he stepped into the stern of the boat and picked up the paddle he had provided for a steering oar: "What do you mean by trying to desert me in this fashion; and was that you yelling a while ago?"

"Yes sar, Marse Mahcy, it was Julius done dat yellin', an' I done it kase I aint want Cap'n Beardsley to cotch you in de house," answered the boy, as he laid out his strength on the oars, and sent the boat swiftly away from the bank.

"Are you sure that Beardsley was with those men?" asked Marcy earnestly. "Think twice before you speak, or you may be the means of making me do something that I shall be sorry for as long as I live."

"Julius don't need to think no two times 'fore he answer dat question. De cap'n was dar, an' so was de oberseer. I know, kase de cap'n squoze my arm till it blacker' n my skin. An' de oberseer 'low to take me to de field in de mawnin'."

"If Beardsley had you by the arm how did you manage to get away from him?" said Marcy, who had good reason for wishing to be sure of his ground.

"Well, sar, moster, I buck him; dat's de way I got loose from de cap'n. He scrooch down dis a way, so he kin look in de suller." said Julius, bending forward until his back was nearly on a level with the gunwales of the boat, "an' I whack him behine de ear, an' he drap so quick he don't know what hit him. Dat's de troof, sure's you born."

Marcy did not doubt it, for if Beardsley had been foolish enough to place himself in that position while Julius was within reach of him, the black boy could have knocked him senseless without any trouble at all. He was the acknowledged champion "bucker" of the neighborhood, and had been known to do such things. The most pugnacious among the little darkies would scream out in terror, and seek safety in flight, if Julius raised one foot from the ground and hopped toward him on the other with his head lowered threateningly, and there was not one among them with a head hard enough to stand against him for a moment if Julius succeeded in catching him by the ears. He could double up the strongest negro on the plantation by butting him in the pit of the stomach, and he would do it if one of them incurred his displeasure, even though he had to wait a month to find his opportunity. And he told nothing but the truth when he said that he had knocked Captain Beardsley down in that way. All he wanted now was a chance at the overseer. He knew that Mrs. Gray and Marcy did not want him on the place, and consequently Julius did not think he would be punished for butting him "good fashion."