Produced by Gary Sandino, from scans generously providedby the Internet Archive.
[Frontispiece: MARCY AND THE OVERSEER.]
CASTLEMON'S WAR SERIES.
MARCY
THE
BLOCKADE-RUNNER
BY
HARRY CASTLEMON,
AUTHOR OF "GUNBOAT SERIES," "ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES,"
"SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES," ETC., ETC.
Four Illustrations by Geo. G. White.
PHILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES.
Copyright, 1891,
BY
PORTER & COATES.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. MARCY HAS A VISITOR, 1
II. HIDING THE FLAGS, 26
III. BEARDSLEY BETRAYS HIMSELF, 52
IV. TWO NARROW ESCAPES, 77
V. A CAT WITHOUT CLAWS, 105
VI. RUNNING THE BLOCKADE, 125
VII. THE mate's LUCKY SHOT, 150
VIII. A NOISE AT THE WINDOW, 174
IX. THE "_SUMTER_" LOSES A PRIZE, 197
X. A COOL PROPOSITION, 219
XI. THE BANNER ON THE WALL, 241
XII. CONFLICTING REPORTS, 268
XIII. UNION OR CONFEDERATE--WHICH? 292
XIV. JULIUS IN TROUBLE, 317
XV. THE ENCHANTED LOOKING-GLASS, 339
XVI. OFF FOR THE FLEET, 362
XVII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING, 381
XVIII. CONCLUSION, 403
MARCY, THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER,
CHAPTER I.
MARCY HAS A VISITOR.
The boys who have read the first volume of this series of books, inwhich we followed the fortunes of our Union hero, Marcy Gray, anddescribed the persevering but unsuccessful efforts he made to be true tohis colors in deed as well as in spirit, will remember that we left himat his home near Nashville, North Carolina, enjoying a brief respitefrom the work he so heartily detested, that of privateering. He had madeone voyage in the _Osprey_ under Captain Beardsley, during which heassisted in capturing the schooner _Mary Hollins_, bound from Havana toBoston with an assorted cargo. When the prize was brought into the portof Newbern the whole town went wild with excitement, Captain Beardsley'sagent being so highly elated that he urged the master of the _Osprey_ torun out at once and try his luck again, before the capture of the_Hollins_ became known at the North. But Beardsley, who was afraid totrust landsharks any farther than he could see them, declared with agood deal of earnestness that he would not budge an inch until thelegality of the capture had been settled by the courts, the vessel andcargo sold, and the dollars that belonged to him and his crew wereplanked down in their two hands. Knowing that it would take time to gothrough all these formalities, Marcy Gray asked for a leave of absence,which Beardsley granted according to promise, and in less than half anhour after the _Osprey_ was hauled alongside the wharf, her disgustedyoung pilot, wishing from the bottom of his heart that she might sinkout of sight before he ever saw her again, left her and went home asfast as the cars could take him. When we last saw him he had reached hismother's house, and was reading a letter from his cousin, _Rodney thePartisan_ a portion of which we gave to the reader at the close of thefirst volume of this series.
"Rodney is full of enthusiasm, isn't he?" exclaimed Marcy, when he hadfinished reading the letter. "He says he looks for 'high old times'running the Yankees out of Missouri, but I am afraid he'll not enjoythem as much as he thinks he will. Perhaps the Yankees are not goodrunners. But Rodney has been true to his colors and I have not. I said Inever would fight against the Union, but I have stood by and seen a gunfired at the old flag; and I have no doubt that the skipper of the_Hollins_ when he saw me aboard the privateer, took me for as good arebel as there was in the crew. Perhaps he will see his mistake someday. I shall have to accept my share of the prize money, for if I don'tBeardsley's suspicions will be aroused; but I'll put it away and send itto the master of the _Hollins_ the first good chance I get. Has WatGifford been here since I went to sea? You know he warned me of twosecret enemies I would have to look out for, and hinted that he wouldsome day tell me who the rest are." ["But I think I know already," addedMarcy mentally.] While he was at sea he had had ample leisure to thinkover the situation, and had made up his mind that he knew right wherethe most serious danger that threatened him and his mother was comingfrom.
"Walter has been here," replied Mrs. Gray, "and I understand that he hassince gone back to the army, his furlough, which was a short one, havingexpired. I was glad to see Walter, for it was a very great relief tovisit with some one to whom I knew I could talk freely; but I must sayhe left a very unpleasant impression on my mind. He told me, in so manywords, that we are suspected of being traitors at heart, and that thereare but few of our neighbors we can trust."
"And who are they?" inquired Marcy. "When we know who our friends are,it will be no trouble for us to pick out our enemies."
"I asked Walter that very question, and after some hesitation he wasobliged to confess that he could not name a single person. There aresome who denounce secession in the very strongest terms, but thatdoesn't prove anything, for Walter has often done the same thinghimself, and he is a rebel soldier," said Mrs. Gray sadly. "Only thinkof it, Marcy! To not one of the many who were our warm friends in timespast, can we go for advice and sympathy, now that trouble is coming uponus. Is it not dreadful?"
"Who cares for advice or sympathy?" exclaimed the boy wrathfully. "We'vegot each other and Jack to go to when the pinch comes, and outsiders canjust mind their own business and live to themselves, and let us do thesame. Traitors! That word doesn't apply to us, mother."
"I know it doesn't; but for all that I am afraid that the 'outsiders,'as you call them, will not let us live to ourselves. Young Giffordalmost as good as told me that some of our near neighbors intend to keepthemselves posted in regard to our movements."
"The--the impudence of the thing!" exclaimed the young pilot, poundinghis knees with his clenched hands. "Who's going to keep them posted?Where do they expect to get their information? Through the overseer?"
"Through the overseer," whispered Mrs. Gray, in reply.
"Are you afraid to speak the words out loud?" cried Marcy, who hadseldom been so excited as he was at that moment. "Great Moses! Havethings come to such a pass that we dare not talk in our ordinary tonesin our own house, but must carry on our conversation in whispers?"
"I was in hopes that my letters would prepare you for something likethis," said his mother slowly.
"Well, they didn't. Of course I knew I should find things changed, but Inever thought we should be spied upon in our own house," answered Marcy."Traitors, are we, when we haven't done the first thing to deserve thename! But is there no way in which that villain Hanson can be got ridof?"
"There is but one way that occurs to me now," was the reply. "When hiscontract expires we can tell him that we do not intend to employ anoverseer any longer."
"And that will be almost a year from now," groaned Marcy. "How can welive for so many months, knowing all the while that our every movementis watched, and that some one is con
stantly trying to catch every wordwe say? I don't believe I can stand it. Did Gifford say anythingabout----"
Marcy paused, got upon his feet, and opened quickly, but silently, oneafter another, all the doors that led from the room in which he and hismother were sitting. There were no eavesdroppers among the servants_yet_ but that was no sign that there wouldn't be some to-morrow or nextday. An overseer who was left as much to himself as Hanson was, heldgreat power in his hands; and some negro servants are as open to briberyas some white people are. Having made sure that there was no onelistening at the door, Marcy drew his chair close to his mother's sidebefore he spoke again.
"Did Gifford say anything about the money--the thirty thousand dollarsin gold you have hidden in the cellar wall?" he asked, in suppressedtones.
"He did, and it troubles me more than anything else he said during hisvisit," replied Mrs. Gray, glancing nervously around the room, as if shefeared that there might be a listener concealed behind some of thechairs or under the sofa. "In spite of my utmost care, that matter,which I hoped to keep from the knowledge of even the most faithful amongthe servants, has become known. I cannot account for it. It fairlyunnerves me to think of it, for it suggests a most alarmingpossibility."
"Did Gifford say, in so many words, that you were known to have money inthe house?"
"He did not. He said it was suspected."
"And what is the alarming possibility you just spoke of?" continuedMarcy.
"Why, I am afraid that there is some trusted person nearer to me thanthe overseer is--some one right here in the house who has been watchingme day and night," answered his mother, shivering all over and drawingnearer to her sturdy son, as if for protection. "You don't know how itmakes me feel, or how keenly I have suffered since young Gifford'svisit."
"I wish he had stopped away," said Marcy, almost fiercely.
"I don't," replied his mother. "He meant it for the best, and wouldn'thave told me a word if I had not insisted. You must not blame Walter. Itis best that I should understand the situation; and Marcy, you know youwould not have told me a word of all this if Gifford had told it toyou."
"Perhaps he did say something to me about it," answered the boy, with anair which said that his mother had not been telling him anything he didnot know before. "But I have been more careful of your feelings thanGifford was."
"And did you mean to leave me all in the dark and utterly ignorant ofthe perils that surround us?" said Mrs. Gray reproachfully. "Do youthink that would have been just to me? Don't imagine, because you are myprotector and the only one I have to depend on while Jack is at sea,that you have all the courage there is between us. I know you wouldshield me entirely if you could, but it is impossible; and you must letme bear my part. I shall have to whether you consent or not. But youhaven't yet told me where you have been, how you captured that vessel,what the captain said about it, or--or anything," she added, with afeeble attempt to bring the boy's usual smile back to his face."Remember, I am deeply interested in all that you do."
"Well, you wouldn't be if you had seen the cowardly work I helpedBeardsley carry out," replied Marcy. "In the first place, Crooked Inletis buoyed in such a way that the stranger who tries to go through itwill run his vessel so hard and fast aground that she will be likely tostay there until the waves make an end of her, or the shifting sands ofthe bar bury her out of sight."
"That's murderous," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, with a shudder. "Is CaptainBeardsley about to turn wrecker?"
"He means to wreck any war vessel that may give chase to his schooner,"answered Marcy. "If we are pursued, I can take the _Osprey_ through allright; but if the man-of-war attempts to follow us, and allows herselfto be guided by the buoys, she'll stick. Oh, it's lovely business--abrave and honorable business," exclaimed the boy, running his handsthrough his hair and tumbling it up as he used to do at school when hefound anything in his books that was too hard for him. "I have theprofoundest contempt for the villain who brought me into it, and despisemyself for yielding to him."
"But, Marcy, what else could you have done? Gilford assured me it wasthe only course open to you, and that by shipping as pilot on board thatprivateer you have somewhat allayed suspicion."
"Mother," said Marcy, placing his arm around her neck and whispering thewords in her ear, "Captain Beardsley doesn't need a pilot any more thanhe needs some one to command his piratical craft. I suspected as muchall the while, and the minute we got up to Crooked Inlet I knew it. Hecan tell you more about the coast in five minutes than I could in anhour."
"Of course, a trader----" began Mrs. Gray.
"Mother," repeated Marcy, "Lon Beardsley is not and never has been atrader. He's a smuggler between this country and Cuba. He says himselfthat he never made a voyage farther away from home than the West Indies.He knows every inch of the coast like a book."
"Then what does he want of you?" inquired Mrs. Gray, with a look ofsurprise. "Why can he not permit you to stay at home in peace, as heknows I want you to do? Do you still think he wants to test your loyaltyto the South?"
"That's just what he is up to," replied Marcy. "He came here in the hopethat I would refuse his offer, so that he would have an excuse forgetting me into trouble."
Yes, that was one object Captain Beardsley had in view when he proposedto make Marcy Gray pilot of the privateer, but there was another behindit, and one that was much nearer to the smuggler's heart. As Marcy hadtold his friend Wat Gifford, on the day the two held that confidentialconversation in front of the Nashville post-office, Beardsley wanted tomarry Mrs. Gray's plantation; and when he found that he must give up allhope in that direction, like the poor apology for a man that he was, hehit upon a plan for taking vengeance upon Marcy's mother. If she proved,when the test was applied, to be friendly to the South and its cause, hewould not dare lift a finger against her or her property, for he knewthat if he did his neighbors would quickly interest themselves in thematter; but if she would only refuse to permit Marcy to ship on boardthe privateer, then he would have a clear field for his operations. Hecould accuse Marcy's mother of being a Yankee sympathizer, and thatwould turn the whole settlement against her at once, because she wasalready suspected of Union sentiments, and some of her nearest neighborswere so certain that she was loyal to the old flag and opposed tosecession, that they thought it their duty to cease visiting her. Itwould be no trouble at all, Beardsley thought, to arouse public feelingagainst her; but unfortunately for the success of his plans, Mrs. Graydid not refuse her consent; the boy took the position offered him on the_Osprey_ made one voyage at sea, and did his duty as faithfully as anyother member of the crew.
"I know Beardsley wanted to find out where I stood," repeated Marcy. "Heexpected and hoped that I would refuse to accept his proposition so thathe would have an excuse for persecuting us; but being disappointedthere, he intends to work in another direction. He means to make troubleon account of the money you have in the cellar."
"But what business--what right has he with it?" said Mrs. Grayindignantly. "It's ours."
"I know it, and we're going to keep it; but if Beardsley can make surethat you went to Richmond, Wilmington, and Newbern for _money_--and Ithink you will find that he looks to Hanson, the overseer, to furnishhim with the proof, and bring a gang of longshoremen up here fromPlymouth some dark night----"
"Oh, Marcy!" cried Mrs. Gray, starting from her chair and clasping herhands in alarm, "don't speak of it!"
"I wish from the bottom of my heart that I need not have told you ofit," said the boy, getting upon his feet and pacing the floor withrestless, angry strides. "But Wat Gifford believes that something of thesort is going to happen, and so do I. Wat didn't say so, but I am surethat is what he would have told me if he had found me at home when hecame here. You knew there was danger in every one of those gold piecesyou brought home with you; else why did you take so much pains to putthem where you thought no one would be likely to find them?"
"It is true I did know it, and was afraid that if the news got abroad inthe
settlement, some of our poor neighbors might be tempted to commitcrime," answered Mrs. Gray. "We never had so large an amount of money inthe house before, and its presence troubles me greatly; but I neverdreamed that we had anything to fear from an organized band offreebooters."
"And the fear of what Beardsley will do, if he finds out that the moneyis really in the house, is what troubles me," said the young pilotdolefully. "That man is capable of any desperate deed when he thinks hehas the power on his side. I know you never thought of such a thing atthe time, but your trips about the country, which Wat Gifford says couldnot have been made without an object of some sort, have excited a gooddeal of talk among the neighbors. Captain Beardsley posted Hanson, andHanson, so Wat told me, is more to be feared than any one else, for heis right here on the place. These secret enemies will drive us bothcrazy."
"We'll not give them the satisfaction of knowing that they can troubleus in the least," replied his mother, with dignity. "Now we will dismissthem entirely from our minds, while you tell me all the interestingthings that happened during your cruise."
"There isn't a thing to tell," was Marcy's answer. "We sighted the_Hollins_ inside Diamond Shoals, threw a couple of shrapnel at her andshe came to; that's all there was of it. Her skipper was a sailorman allover, and plucky, too; and if he had had anything to fight with, hewould have made things lively for us. I never before felt so sorry foranybody as I did for him; but of course I didn't have a chance to tellhim so. I may some day meet him under different circumstances."
When the boy said this he did not really believe that such a thing evercould occur, but nevertheless it did. Strange things happen in thisworld sometimes, and in process of time it came about that the youngpilot again stood face to face with the master of the _Mary Hollins_ nolonger a prisoner pleading with Captain Beardsley that his men might notbe ironed like felons, but standing free on the quarter-deck of an armedvessel, with a hundred blue-jackets ready to do his bidding, and theStars and Stripes waving proudly and triumphantly above him. AndBeardsley--he was there, too; and perhaps we shall see what sort ofheart he kept up when he found himself thrust into the "brig" so quicklythat he did not have time to tell what his name was.
"How long does your leave of absence extend?" inquired Mrs. Gray, aftera little pause.
"Until I am ordered to report," replied Marcy, with a laugh. "Perhapsthe captain didn't know I wrote it out that way, but that isn't myfault. It was his business to read the paper before signing it. If hewants me he will have to send for me. You ought to have heard thatNewbern mob whoop and yell when the crew of the _Hollins_ were marchedoff to jail. They called them 'Abolitionists' and 'nigger-lovers'; butthe prisoners kept their eyes straight to the front, and marched on asthough they didn't hear a word of it. It was a shame to treat brave menthat way."
Just as the young pilot ceased speaking there was a gentle knock at thedoor; and so sudden and unexpected was it, that it brought both him andhis mother to their feet in a twinkling. How long had the person whogave that knock been within reach of the door, was the first thoughtthat arose in the mind of each. Had some one crept along the hall andlistened at the key-hole in the hope of hearing some of theirconversation?
"If that is the case," Marcy whispered to his mother, "she has had hertrouble for her pains. We haven't said a dozen words that could havebeen heard the length of this room. 'Come in!'"
The door opened to admit one of the numerous female house servants, whoannounced that there was a gentleman on the gallery who had called tosee Mrs. Gray on very important private and particular business.
"She looks innocent enough," thought Marcy, who could not bring himselfto believe, as his mother evidently did, that some of the domestics werewatching their movements and reporting the result of their observationsto the overseer. "I don't think she heard a word, and she certainlycould not have seen anything." And then, finding that his mother waslooking at him as if she meant him to understand that she knew what thevisitor's business was, and desired him to take it off her hands, hesaid, aloud: "Who is the gentleman, and do you know what he's got to saythat is so very important and particular?"
"I don't know, sah, what he want to speak about," answered the girl,"but de man is Mr. Kelsey."
Marcy could hardly keep back an exclamation of disgust, and in aninstant he was on his guard. The man's name and the message he had sentin warned him to be on the lookout for treachery. Kelsey was one ofBeardsley's "renters"--that is to say, he hired from the captain a fewacres of ground, on which he managed to raise enough corn and potatoesto keep his family from absolute want, and a little log cabin in whichhe found shelter when he was not absent on his hunting and thievingexpeditions. Marcy had not seen him since his return from Barrington,but he had heard of him as a red-hot Confederate who went aboutdeclaring that hanging was too good for Yankees and their sympathizers.When Marcy heard of this, he told himself that the man was another BudGoble, who, when the pinch came, would take to the woods and stay thereas long as danger threatened.
"I'll be with him directly," he said, addressing himself to the girl,who went out, closing the door behind her.
"What in the name of wonder can that worthless man want with me?"whispered Mrs. Gray, when she thought she had given the domestic time toget out of hearing. "He has never been in this house before except tobeg."
"And he wouldn't be here now if he hadn't been sent," replied the boy.
"Oh, Marcy!" said his mother.
"That is just what I mean. It isn't old clothes or grub that he is afterthis time."
"But Beardsley couldn't have put him up to anything. He is in Newbern."
"No odds. He left plenty of friends behind to do his dirty work, andthis fellow, Kelsey, is one of them. It will take a sharper man than heis to pull the wool over my eyes."
"Don't be over-confident, my son. He is not too insignificant--no one istoo insignificant these times to do us some terrible injury. Be carefulhow you treat him and what you say to him. It might be dangerous to makehim angry, for he has powerful friends behind him. Don't be gone long,for I shall be uneasy until you return."
"I'll be right back," promised Marcy; and, giving his mother areassuring kiss, he left the room and went out on the porch to see whatBeardsley's friend and spy wanted.
The latter looked just as he did the last time Marcy saw him--too lazyto take a long breath. He was tall and lank, his hair fell down upon hisshoulders, his whiskers were as tangled and matted as a little brushheap--in short, he was as fine a specimen of a poor white as one couldfind anywhere in the seceded States. He looked stupid as well asshiftless, but the young pilot knew he wasn't. He was as sly as a foxand as cunning as well, and Marcy confessed to himself that he stoodmore in fear of him than he did of Captain Beardsley. When the man heardMarcy's step upon the porch, he tried to assume the servile air whichwas characteristic of poor Southern whites before the war; but he didnot succeed very well. His manner seemed to say that he knew he wasdealing with one he could crush whenever he felt like it, and of whom heneed not stand in fear; and Marcy was quick to notice it.
"Sarvent, sah," said Kelsey, rising to his feet and taking off histattered hat, which, however, he almost instantly replaced. "I hearedthat you had got back again from sea, an' that you had whopped theYankees first time tryin', same as our fellers done down toCharleston."
"Yes, sir," replied Marcy, seating himself, and depositing his feet onthe railing, as if to indicate that he was quite at the service of hisfriend Kelsey as long as the latter wanted to talk to him. "We whippedthem, and we could do the same thing again." ["And that's nothing butthe truth," he added, to himself. "When an armed vessel meets one that'snot armed, the helpless one is bound to go under every time."]
It is hard to tell just what Kelsey expected the boy to say in responseto his greeting, but in spite of his usual self-control his face showedthat he had not looked for any such answer as this. Marcy spoke andacted as if he were delighted with the success that had attended the_Osprey's_ first c
ruise at sea, and proud of being able to say that hewas one of her crew.
"You sent in word that you desired to see my mother on very particularbusiness," continued Marcy. "She doesn't feel like seeing anybodyto-day--upset by the war news, you know--and I am here to speak for her.It's nothing bad, I hope?"
Kelsey straightened up on his seat and assumed a business air, as ifthese words had suggested an idea to him.
"Yes, it's kinder bad," said he. "We uns know that you are true blue,fur if you wasn't you wouldn't be on that privateer; an' if your mawwasn't true blue, she wouldn't a let you go."
["That sounds exactly like Beardsley," said Marcy, to himself.] "Well,what of it? Didn't I do my duty faithfully?"
"I ain't sayin' nothing agin that," replied the man hastily."But--you're fur Jeff Davis, ain't you?"
Instead of answering in words, Marcy pulled down the corner of his righteye and looked at Kelsey as if to ask him if he saw anything green init.
"What do ye mean by them movements?" demanded the visitor.
"I mean that I am not going to talk politics with you," was the reply."This settlement is full of traitors, and I'm going to hold my tongueunless I know who I am talking to. If I do that, I shan't get intotrouble by speaking too freely in the hearing of a Yankee spy."
"But look a-here, Mister Marcy," protested Kelsey.
"If you came to pry into our private affairs, you might as well jump onyour mule and go home, for you'll not get a word from me. I ought to putthe dogs on you, for if all I hear is true you're the worst kind of atraitor." ["And so you are," thought Marcy, closely watching the effectof his words, although he did not seem to be doing so; "you're a traitorto the old flag."]
The visitor was astonished beyond measure, and it was fully a minutebefore he could collect his wits sufficiently to frame a reply.
Marcy the Blockade Runner Page 1
