CHAPTER XVIII.
CONCLUSION.
When Marcy Gray opened his eyes the next morning at daylight, he was inthe camp of the refugees, which was to be his home, at irregularintervals, for long months to come, and surrounded by men who, likehimself, were being persecuted for their opinions' sake. The camp waslocated on an island in a remote corner of the swamp that Marcy hadnever seen before, although he had hunted through the country for mileson every side of his mother's plantation. In the middle of the islandwas a cleared space, perhaps fifty feet in diameter, and all the bushesand trees that had been cut from it were piled around the circumference,to serve the double purpose of wind-break and breastwork. There were nohorses or mules among the refugees to make a trail through the woodsthat could be followed by the Home Guards and soldiers, and no dogs toattract their attention by their baying; but there were canoes and boatsin plenty, and, except when in use, they were concealed in the bushes,so that they could not be seen from the mainland. There were severalsnug lean-tos in the camp, to which the refugees retreated in stormyweather; but, when the elements were friendly, they preferred to wrapthemselves in their blankets, and sleep under the trees. When thenewcomer opened his eyes on this particular morning, the first objectthey rested on was the bearded face of Ben Hawkins, the paroledprisoner. He was lying under the same tree, and had been waiting half anhour for Marcy to wake up.
"I reckon it does you good to sleep in the open air," were the firstwords he spoke.
"Want of sleep is something that never troubles me," was the reply."Were you out with the Home Guards last night? And how did they treat mymother after they got into the house?"
"Didn't I say that the first one amongst 'em who looked cross-ways ather, or said anything out of the way, would have to answer to me forit?" demanded Hawkins. "I said that much to 'em before we went into youryard; and well, them Home Guards know me."
"I assure you that I shall not forget it," said Marcy gratefully. "Ihope you did not say or do anything to add to their suspicions. You knowyou told me they were afraid to trust you. And why did you come hereinstead of going home?"
"I don't care a cent if they distrust me now more'n they did before,"answered Hawkins. "I'm watching 'em, and they'll have to get up in themorning to get the start of me. And I come to camp to see if you washere, and find out if it was that little nigger's yelling that warnedyou."
"That was just it," replied Marcy. "If Beardsley hadn't caught him, hewould surely have caught me. What did Beardsley have to say forhimself?"
"He was purty bad hurt, I tell you; and we had to hold him in thehoss-trough for as much as a minute before he came to. He's bound tokill that nigger. He didn't see him have no club in his hand when heketched him."
"Julius never struck him with a club," exclaimed Marcy. "He gave him abutt under the ear."
The Confederate uttered an ejaculation indicative of the greatestastonishment, and then he sat up on his blanket, reached over Marcy'sshoulder, and began throwing aside the leaves and branches until heuncovered a gray quilt. This he pulled off in spite of the desperateefforts of some one beneath to prevent it, and when he drew the quiltover Marcy's shoulder, he brought with it the boy Julius, who was highlyenraged because his dreamless slumber had been so rudely disturbed.
"Did you like to butt the life out of Cap'n Beardsley last night?"inquired Hawkins. "Come here, and let me see how hard your head is."
"Take you' hands off'n dat head," sputtered Julius. "I buck one rebellas' night, an' you want watch out dat I don't buck nodder one dismawning." Then he became good-natured all at once, for he thought ofsomething he wanted to ask Hawkins. "What Beardsley say when he seen hisfine schooner go up in de clouds?"
"He was mad and sorry and skeered," answered Hawkins. "I'll bet you,Mister Marcy, that he plum forgot about that schooner, or he wouldn'thave been in such a hurry to help Shelby raise the Home Guards. Ofcourse we rode hard for the fire as soon as we seen it, but we couldn'tdo no good after we got there. The schooner was too far gone."
"Did Beardsley find the note I left for him?" asked Marcy.
"Shelby found it and give it to him; and it was when he read it that helooked sorry and skeered. It was lucky you wrote it, for it kept some ofthe Home Guards from being killed."
"How do you make that out?"
"Just this a way," answered Hawkins. "They allowed, after they gotthrough with you, to go to the houses of two more Union men so't youwould have company when you was took to jail. But when Shelby heard yourletter read he put for his home quick's he could go, some others wholived up his way went with him, and that sorter broke up the party.Leastwise it didn't leave enough to capture them two Union men, who Iknew were on the watch and ready to shoot. I went to their housesafterward, and brought them into the swamp with me. They're gettingmighty tired of living in this way, and they allow to rise up and driveBeardsley and Shelby out'n the country. There wouldn't be no trouble inthe settlement if them two was out of it."
"That is what I think," said Marcy, "and I wish that plan might be putinto operation this very day. What is the use of putting it off? I'llhelp."
While this conversation was going on the other refugees had begun toshow signs of returning life and energy, and as fast as they arose fromtheir blankets they came up to greet Marcy, who was not much surprisedto find that he could call every one of them by name. Those who hadrendered him such good service on the night those Newbern robbers raidedhis mother's house made themselves known, and of course received thehearty thanks of the boy they had saved from being hung up by the neck.One of them remarked that he wished he and his friends had served Hansonas they had served the robbers, and this led Marcy to believe that theyhad made short work with them; but he asked no questions.
For men in their circumstances the refugees were the most jovial lotMarcy Gray had ever seen. Having learned the art of foraging toperfection they lived on the best the country afforded; they were sowell armed that it would not pay the authorities to try to capture them,even if they had known right where to find them; and the secessionistsin the settlement who had property to lose would not permit theConfederate soldiers to molest their wives and children if they couldpossibly help it. But, as Hawkins said, they were becoming tired ofliving in this way, and were talking seriously of taking matters intotheir own hands. If the Federal garrison at Plymouth could not protectthem, they would protect themselves. That was what Marcy Gray had madeup his mind to do, and it was his intention to begin operations thatvery day. As soon as breakfast was over he drew Hawkins off on one sideand took him into his confidence by unfolding the plans he had in hishead. One was to make a prisoner of his mother's overseer and take himto Plymouth; and while there, to give the Federal commander the names ofthe men who belonged to the Home Guards and tell him what they wereorganized for. And lastly he would write letters to Beardsley andShelby, telling them that if they did not move away at once and go amongthe Confederates, where they ought to have gone long ago, the men whomthey had forced to find refuge in the swamp would destroy everythingthey had.
"I'm with you heart and soul, all except going among the Yankees," saidHawkins, after Marcy had made him understand what he had on his mind."I'm sorter jubus that they won't let me come away when I want to. Whycouldn't we bushwhack Hanson, and not go nigh Plymouth at all?"
"Shoot him behind his back?" cried Marcy. "Look here, Hawkins, I hopeyou are not that sort. I never could look my mother in the face if Ishould consent to that. Haven't you something to show that you are aparoled prisoner?"
"Not the first thing. One of my officers signed for me."
"All right. Then you stand by me till we capture and tie Hanson, and Iwill take him down the river myself. I have something in my pocket thatwill bring me home all right. And while I am gone you will deliver acouple of letters for me, will you not?"
Oh, yes; Hawkins was perfectly willing to do that, and when he deliveredthe warning letters he would add a few words of his own that wouldperhaps emphasize what Marcy
wrote. Being satisfied with his promise theboy hastened to hunt up the portfolio he had been thoughtful enough tobring with him, and while he wrote the letters which he hoped wouldforever relieve the community of the meanest men in it, his Confederatefriend busied himself in telling all the rest of the refugees what hewas writing about. Marcy's energy was contagious; and by the time he andHawkins and Julius were ready to start on their mission, half the men incamp were writing similar notes, to be delivered to certain obnoxiouspersons by other paroled prisoners. Every one of them would have beenglad to "see Marcy through," as they expressed it, if he would agreethat Hanson should be bushwhacked instead of being turned over to theYankees. Although they were strong Union men, they might not be able toprove it to the satisfaction of the Federals, and for that reason theydid not care to put themselves in their power.
"And I don't blame you for it," said Marcy. "I wouldn't dare go amongthem myself if I wasn't sure they would let me come home again. I don'tneed any help, except such as Hawkins is willing to give me. If I onceget Hanson afloat, I shall take him to Plymouth, unless he throwshimself into the river; and I know he isn't the man to do that."
Everything being ready for the start, Marcy and his two companionscrossed to the main land in one of the canoes which they concealed amongthe bushes when they reached the bank, and set out for Mrs. Gray'shouse, holding such a course that they would pass one of Beardsley'sfields on the way. They expected to find him at work there with hisnegroes, and they were not disappointed. When they discovered him, Marcydrew his letters from his pocket and handed one of them to Hawkins, who,after telling him where he would find him again at the end of half anhour, climbed the fence and set out across the field. Marcy waited untilhe came up with Beardsley and handed him the letter, and then resumedhis walk, arriving at the place of meeting just about the time thatHawkins got there. The latter was laughing all over.
"You writ him a pretty sassy letter, didn't you?" said he.
"I told him what I want him to do, and what he may expect if he doesn'tdo it," was Marcy's reply. "What did he say?"
"He wanted to know where I got the letter, and I told him I washog-hunting in the woods and met a Union man, who asked me would I giveit to him, and I said I would," answered Hawkins. "Then he got mad andwhooped and hollered, and said he'd be shot if he stirred one step awayfrom his home; but I reckon he thought better of it when I told him thatMiss Gray's overseer would be in Plymouth to-night, and that a squad ofYankee cavalry would be looking for him and Shelby to-morrer. That wasall right, wasn't it?"
"Perfectly right. I don't care a cent what starts him, so long as hestarts. Now for Hanson. We ought to find him in a field about a quarterof a mile away in this direction. I am afraid he will run when he seesme."
"If he does I'll stop him," replied Hawkins, patting the butt of a longsquirrel-rifle he carried on his shoulder.
For the first time in many months things seemed to be working in Marcy'sfavor; for when he and his companion came within sight of the field inwhich Hanson ought to have found employment that day for Mrs. Gray'shands, he was there, and he did not see them until after they hadcrossed the fence and made considerable progress toward him. The sightof Marcy made Hanson uneasy--his actions proved that--and it is probablethat he would have taken to his heels if the boy had not been in thecompany of a Confederate soldier who was also a member of the HomeGuards. Still he must have feared treachery, for when Marcy approachedclose enough to speak to him, he saw that his face was very white, andthat his hands trembled so violently he could scarcely hold his knifeand the stick he was trying to cut.
"Morning, gentlemen," said he with a strong effort to appear at hisease. "Fine morning, this morning."
"Cicero," said Marcy, addressing one of the field hands and paying nosort of attention to the overseer's greeting, "unless you receive otherorders from my mother, you will have charge of this work until I return.Hanson is going with me."
"With you, Mister Marcy!" said the man, in a weak voice. "The missusdone told me to come out here."
"She gave you no orders whatever, and you have not seen her thismorning. I order you to get ready to go to Plymouth," answered Marcy;whereupon Hawkins placed his rifle upon the ground and drew a rope fromone of his pockets.
Never in his life had Marcy seen a man so astonished and frightened asthe overseer was at that moment. He dared not resist, and he could notspeak when Hawkins drew his arms behind his back and fastened them therewith the rope. As to the negroes, who were quick to understand thesituation, they would have danced and shouted for joy had they not knownthat such a demonstration would be displeasing to their young master; sothey contented themselves with bringing forward one of their number, whobared his brawny shoulder, and by the action called Marcy's attentionto a long ugly-looking welt that had been left there by a blow from theoverseer's raw-hide.
"Whoop!" yelled Julius; and, to quote from the field hands, heimmediately "drapped his wing"; that is to say, he humped up hisshoulders and back, dropped his chin upon his breast, raised one footfrom the ground, and began hopping toward the overseer on the other. Ina minute more Hanson would have been served as Captain Beardsley was thenight before, if Marcy had not put a stop to the little darky's anticsby taking hold of his collar and giving him a twist that sent him tenfeet away.
"I know what you uns are going to do, and I aint no ways scared of you,"said Hanson, who at last mustered up courage enough to speak; but hiswhite face and trembling limbs belied his words. "My friends will makeyou suffer for this."
"That's all right," said Hawkins cheerfully. "If they don't leave thecountry this very night, like they have been told to do, you will see'em in Plymouth to-morrer. Now, will you go peaceable, or shall I walkyou along by the neck?"
The Confederate soldier picked up his rifle and waved his hand in thedirection of the great house, and the prisoner started toward it withouthesitating or saying another word; while Marcy ran on ahead to tell hismother what he had done. Although the field was in plain sight no oneabout the house had noticed that there was anything unusual going on,and Marcy went in at the side door and made his way to his mother's roombefore she knew he was on the plantation. Marcy did some rapid talking,for time was precious, and he might be in danger as long as he remainedwith her; but he told her of everything that had happened to him sincethe Home Guards drove him from home, and when he said that he and Juliuswere on their way to Plymouth to deliver Hanson into the hands of theFederals, she did not try to turn him from his purpose. She simply saidthat she thought he was engaged in a desperate undertaking.
"Desperate cases require desperate remedies," answered Marcy, lookingout of the window just as Hawkins and his prisoner passed by. Thesoldier was walking by Hanson's side and Julius was acting asrear-guard, advancing first on one foot and then on the other, and allthe while shaking his head as if he were possessed by an almostirresistible desire to plant it in the small of the overseer's back."Here he is now," continued Marcy.
"Come and take a last look at him."
"I don't want to," replied Mrs. Gray. "I hope I shall never see himagain."
"That is what I hope, and what I am working for," said Marcy. "Good-by,and remember that I will stop here on my way to camp. Don't worry, for Iam going among friends."
So saying, Marcy ran down the stairs and out of the house. Arriving atthe landing he found there but one boat suitable for his purpose, andthat was the skiff Captain Benton gave him on the night he left thegunboat. It was old and leaky, but large enough to accommodate three; soit was shoved from the bank and Hanson was assisted to the seat he wasto occupy in the bow. Then Julius got in and picked up the oars, whileMarcy lingered to take leave of Ben Hawkins.
"Like as not you'll come back all right," said the latter.
"I hope to, certainly," answered Marcy. "Take care of yourself while Iam gone, and remember that I am under obligations to you."
"So am I," exclaimed Hanson, who had had leisure to think the matterover and get a few of his
wits about him. "You're a traitor, BenHawkins, and I'll see that the Home Guards know it. You're a Confederatesoldier, too, and I'll take pains to tell the Yankees of that."
"Hursh yer noise, dar!" said Julius, looking over his shoulder andscowling fiercely at the overseer. "If I drap my wing at you, you drapoverboard, suah's you----
"That will do," said Marcy, stepping into the stern-sheets. "Shove usoff, Mr. Hawkins."
This being done, Julius gave way on the oars, and the great house andits surroundings were quickly left out of sight. Then Marcy threw openhis coat and drew his holsters in front of him, so that he could easilylay hold of the revolvers that were in them. He did not think he wouldhave any trouble with his prisoner, or that he would be called upon todefend himself against the Home Guards; but he was prepared for anemergency.
It was a long and tedious journey that Marcy had undertaken, for therewas no one to talk to, and nothing to see that he had not seen a hundredtimes before; but it was brought to an end about three in the afternoon,when the strong current in the Roanoke River carried his boat withinsight of a Union sentry on the bank. The latter faced them promptly,brought his piece to "arms port," and called out:
"_Who_ comes there?"
"Two friends with a rebel prisoner," replied Marcy; and, to his intenseamazement, Hanson twisted himself around on his seat, and flatlycontradicted him by saying:
"Taint so, Mister Soldier. It's two rebels with a Union prisoner. I'm sostrong for the old flag that the rebels won't let me----"
"Halt, two friends with a rebel prisoner!" shouted the sentry, who wasnot the proper person to decide any difference of opinion there might bebetween the boy who sat in the stern-sheets, with a steering-oar in hishand, and the man who sat in the bow with his arms tied behind his back."Corporal of the guard number eight!"
The only way to halt in that current was to bring the boat ashore, andthis Marcy and Julius proceeded to do. They were all on the bank whenthe corporal came up, and Hanson would have given Marcy a very blackcharacter indeed if the non-commissioned officer had been disposed tolisten to him; but he said he didn't want to hear a word of it, andordered Marcy to take off his revolvers. When this had been done, andthe corporal had the belt in his hand, he demanded:
"Now, then, what do you want?"
"Of course I shall have to tell my story to the officer of the day, butI should like much to see Captain Burrows," replied Marcy.
"Captain Burrows happens to be officer of the day," said the corporal,who no doubt wondered how Marcy came to be acquainted with him. "Comeon, and I will take you to him."
"It might be well to release this man," suggested Marcy. "He has beenconfined a good while."
"No, I guess I will turn him over just as I got him," said the soldier."Then the captain can't find any fault with me."
Not to dwell upon the particulars of Marcy's visit to Plymouth, it willbe enough to say that he found Captain Burrows at the office of theprovost marshal, and that he was just as sociable and friendly as he waswhen sitting in one of Mrs. Gray's easy-chairs examining Marcy's guns,and talking to him about the shooting on the plantation. He listenedpatiently and with evident satisfaction to the boy's statements, andthen took him to the headquarters of the colonel commanding the post;leaving Hanson, who would have been dull indeed if he had not realizedby this time that he was in the worst scrape of his life, to the care ofthe provost marshal. When Marcy turned to look at him as he left themarshal's office, he told himself that Hanson was in a fair way to seethe inside of a Northern prison pen.
He had not talked with the colonel more than five minutes before thelatter became aware that Marcy could tell him the very things he mostwished to know regarding the condition of the Union people who livedoutside his lines. Almost every statement he made was reduced to writingby one of the orderlies, and when the interview was ended at ten o'clockthat night, Marcy received the thanks of the commandant and theassurance that the Home Guards should be scattered or captured withoutloss of time, and his home made a safe place for him to live. CaptainBurrows offered to take good care of him and his servant if he wouldremain all night, but Marcy was so anxious to tell his mother the goodnews that he thought he had better start for home at once; so he wasgiven the countersign, and a pass commanding all guards and patrols topermit him to enter or leave the lines at any hour of the day or night,and Captain Burrows furnished him with a generous lunch and went withhim to his boat to see him off.
"Good-by, Marcy, but not for long," said he. "If I have any influencewith the colonel, I shall be riding around in your neighborhoodto-morrow afternoon; and when this cruel war is over, I am coming downhere on purpose to go quail-shooting with you."
"Take care of the Home Guards, and drive the rebels away fromWilliamston, and you can go quail-shooting any time," replied Marcy."But I am afraid it will be a long time before that will come to pass,or my home will be a safe place for me to live," he soliloquized, as hesettled back in the stern of the boat and looked up at the stars whileJulius plied the oars. "Captain Beardsley will be forced to leave thecountry and so will Colonel Shelby; but they will go straight toWilliamston or some other place that is in the hands of theConfederates, and send first one scouting party and then another intothe settlement to trouble us Union people."
That was what Marcy thought, and it was what he told his mother when hereached home the next morning; and knowing that the Federal colonel hadnot yet had time to "capture or scatter" the Home Guards, he did notremain long in the house, but ate a hasty breakfast and set out for thecamp of the refugees, walking under cover of all the fences, and makinguse of every bush and inequality of the ground to conceal him from theview of any one who might chance to be passing along the road. It waswell that these precautions were adopted; for when he and Julius weresafe in the woods they looked back and saw about twenty mounted menenter the yard and surround the house. They were the Home Guards, andhad been sent there by Beardsley and Shelby, who knew that Marcy wouldbe sure to visit his mother on his return from Plymouth. They were inthe house half an hour or more, but went away as empty-handed as theycame.
"That means the loss of more property for you, Captain Beardsley," saidMarcy to himself: and when the other refugees heard of it they said thesame thing, and vowed to make their words good that very night; but,about one o'clock that afternoon, one of the paroled prisoners came intocamp with the information that he had barely escaped falling into thehands of a squad of Federal cavalry who were raiding the settlement, andthat Beardsley and Shelby were being punished already for the rows theyhad kicked up in the neighborhood.
"I was hid in my corn-crib when the Yankees went by my house," said thesoldier, "and the feller in command of 'em was the same chap I seed with'em once before. They had scooped in as many as a dozen of the meanestof the Home Guards, Beardsley and Shelby amongst 'em, and were taking'em off Plymouth way. My old hat riz on my head when I heard Beardsleytell the Yankee cap'n that if he'd go into my house he'd ketch a rebelsoldier in there, but that there Yankee cap'n 'lowed that he knowed whathe was doing, and that he wasn't hunting no paroled prisoners. Now, whodo you reckon told him that a paroled prisoner lived in my house?"
"I did," replied Marcy. "I said a good word for you while I was inPlymouth, and the Yankee colonel said that, if anybody bothered youparoled rebels, it would be your own men and not his. You have broughtme good news."
But all the same it did not bring the quiet home life which Marcythought would be his when those arch-disturbers of the peace of thesettlement were carried away from it, for the Confederate authoritiesinterfered with his plans. In April they passed their first generalConscription Act, making all the able-bodied men in the Confederacybetween the ages of eighteen and thirty-five subject to military duty,revoked all leaves of absence, and ordered every soldier to report atonce to his command on pain of being treated as a deserter. The Actprovided for the exemption of those who were able to pay for it, butMarcy did not know it; and supposing that he was as likely to beconscr
ipted as anybody else, he passed the most of his time in camp,where he knew he was safe. We have no space in this book to tell of theother adventures that fell to his lot, and so we must leave him here forthe present while we take up the history of two of our Confederateheroes, Rodney Gray and Dick Graham, whom we last saw in Rodney's homein a distant State. They were full-fledged soldiers as you know, havingserved fifteen months in Price's army and Bragg's. They had theirdischarges in their pockets and were inclined to say, with Ben Hawkins,that they would not do any more fighting for the Confederacy until some"stay-at-homers," whose names they could mention, had had a chance tosee how they liked it. Dick Graham was homesick and longed to see hisfather and mother; but they were somewhere in Missouri, and Dick couldnot get to them without crossing the Mississippi, which was closelyguarded by the Union navy. There was no way to get around it, however,and that river had to be crossed; and how they made one unsuccessfulattempt after another to reach the opposite bank; how Rodney Graymanaged to keep out of the army in spite of the efforts that were madeto force him into it; and how he turned the tables on his old enemy TomRandolph, and his Home Guards, who tried to bring him into trouble withthe Federals in Baton Rouge, shall be told in the next volume of thisseries, which will be entitled "RODNEY, THE OVERSEER."
THE END.
Marcy, the Refugee Page 18
