"She has enough to bother her already," said he, as he closed and
locked the door of his room; "and although I have no secrets from her, I
don't like to speak to her on disagreeable subjects. I wish she could
forget that money in the cellar wall and the hints Wat Gifford gave her
about 'longshoremen coming up here from Plymouth some dark night to
steal it."
Sailor Jack, who was standing in front of the bureau
putting away his letters of recommendation and the canvas bag that contained
his money, turned quickly about and looked at his brother without
speaking.
"Of course I don't know that such a thing will ever happen,"
continued Marcy, "but I do know for a fact that Beardsley and a few others
are very anxious to find out whether or not there are any funds in
the house. Beardsley tried his level best to pump me, and Colonel
Shelby sent that trifling Kelsey up here for the same purpose. Now
what difference does it make to them whether mother has money or not,
unless they mean to try to take it from her?"
"Marcy," said Jack, who
had backed into the nearest chair, "I wish that money was a thousand miles
from here. You haven't anything to fear from those wharf-rats at Plymouth;
but if the Confederate authorities find out about it, and can scrape together
evidence enough to satisfy them that mother is Union, they'll come down on
this house like a nighthawk on a June bug. And, worse than that, Beardsley
may contrive to have mother put under arrest."
"No!" gasped Marcy.
"What for?"
"Don't you know that the Richmond Government has instructed
its loyal subjects to repudiate the debts they owe to Northern men and to
turn the amount of those debts into the Confederate treasury?"
"Well,
what of it? We don't owe anybody a red cent."
"No odds. If Beardsley
wants evidence to prove that we _do_ owe some Northern house for the supplies
we have been receiving, and that we are holding back the money instead of
giving it to the Confederacy--if Beardsley needs evidence to prove all that
he can easily find it."
"Why, the--the villain!" exclaimed Marcy, who had
never been more astounded.
"He's worse than that, and he'll do worse
than that if he sees half a chance," said Jack, with a sigh. "I wish the
Yankees might get hold of him, and that some one would tell them who and what
he is, for I judge from what you have told me that he is at the bottom of all
mother's troubles. Now, let me tell you: you must stay at home and take care
of mother, and I will ship on a war vessel and do my share toward
putting down this rebellion."
"But how can I stay at home?"
interrupted Marcy. "My leave is for only ninety days, and Beardsley looks for
me to join the schooner as soon as my arm gets well."
"All right. No
doubt you will have to do it; but you'll not make many more trips on that
blockade-runner. It'll not be long before all our ports will be sealed up
tight as a brick by swift steamers, and sailing vessels will stand no show of
getting out or in. I know Lon Beardsley, and he will quit blockade running
when he thinks it's time, the same as he quit privateering. Why, Marcy, you
can't imagine what an uproar there is all over the North. They're getting
ready to give the South particular fits."
"Then the result of the
fight at Bull Run didn't frighten or discourage them?"
"Man alive, if
you had had as much to do with Northern people as I have, you would know that
they don't understand the words. They've got their blood up at last, and now
they mean business. Recruits are coming in faster than they can equip and
send them off. And I can't stay behind. Mother must let me go."
"Do
you think of enlisting on one of the blockading fleet?"
"I
do."
"But how are you going to get to it? It's off Hatteras."
"So
I supposed. Where's the _Fairy Belle?_"
"Great Scott!" ejaculated Marcy
"Do you expect me to take you out on her?"
"Well, yes; I had rather
calculated on it." Marcy was profoundly astonished. He threw himself upon the
bed, propped his head up with his uninjured hand, and looked at his brother
without saying a word.
CHAPTER
XI.
THE BANNER ON THE WALL.
"You seem to
be very much surprised at a very simple proposition," said Jack, at
length.
"And you seem to have a deal more cheek than you did the first
time I made your acquaintance," replied Marcy.
Jack laughed
heartily.
"Why, what is there to hinder you from taking me down to the
fleet?" he demanded. "Haven't I often heard you boast of the _Fairy
Belle's_ sea-going qualities? If she can cross the Atlantic, as you have
more than once declared, she can surely ride out any blow we are likely
to meet off the Cape."
"Oh, she can get there easy enough," answered
Marcy. "I was not thinking about that. But suppose I take you down to the
fleet and the Yankees won't let me come back? Then what?"
"Nonsense!"
exclaimed Jack. "They'll let you come back. They are not obliged to force men
into the service against their will. They've got more than they
want."
"But there's another thing," continued Marcy. "There are two forts
at the Inlet; and suppose some of the rebels in those forts should see
a little schooner communicating with one of the blockading fleet.
Wouldn't they take pains to find out where the schooner belonged, and who
her owner was? And then what would they do to me?"
"They would put you
in jail, of course," replied Jack, with refreshing candor. "But I take it for
granted that you are sharp enough to go and come without being seen by
anybody. If you magnify the dangers of the undertaking by holding back or
raising objections to the programme I have laid out, I am afraid you will
frighten mother into saying that I can't go."
"I'll neither hold back
nor object," said Marcy resolutely. "When you are ready to go say the word,
and I will do the best I can for you."
"I knew you would. Now let's lie
down for a while. I have tramped it all the way from Boydtown since daylight,
and am pretty well tuckered out."
"If you had telegraphed to Nashville, I
would have met you with a carriage," said Marcy.
"Of course. But I
thought I would rather have a talk with you and mother before I let any one
know I was in the country. And now that I have got here and had the
talk--what would you do if you were in my place? Keep out of
sight?"
"No, I wouldn't. What good would it do as long as the servants
know you are here? Make it a point to say 'hallo' to all the neighbors,
talk politics with them, and tell them how you ran that schooner into
Newbern through Oregon Inlet. By the way, what was done with the cargo that
was intended for that house in Havana?"
"It wasn't intended for
Havana. It was sold in Newbern, as the owners meant it should be, and when I
left, the _West Wind_ was loading up with cotton for Nassau. Well, suppose I
play that I am as good a Confederate as any of the people hereabouts; what
then? When I leave for the blockading fleet they will want to know where I
have gone, won't they? And what will you say to them? We must think about
that and cook up some sort of a story on purpose for them."
The boys
tumbled into bed while they were talking, but it was a long time before Marcy
could go to sleep. He shuddered every time he thought of what the
consequences would be if by any misfortune it became known in the settlement,
that Jack Gray, whom everybody took to be a good Confederate, and who had
been permitted, while at home, to go and come as he pleased, had seized the
first opportunity to go down to Hatteras and ship on board a Union
gunboat.
"This house would be in ashes in less than twenty-four hours
after the news got noised about in the neighborhood," said Marcy, to
himself, wishing that the sound sleep that so promptly came to his weary
brother might come to him, also! "Then I should learn by experience how it
seems to live in a negro cabin. But there's one consolation. They
couldn't burn the cellar walls, so mother's money would be safe."
The
clock struck nine before the boys got up that morning, but there was a hot
breakfast waiting for them. A family council was held while they were seated
at the table, during which it was decided that the only course for Jack to
pursue while at home was to do as he always had done--go about the settlement
as though he had a perfect right to be there (as indeed he had), and act and
talk as though such a thing as war had never been heard of. If political
questions were forced upon him, he could tell of his voyage on the _West
Wind_, and show Captain Frazier's letter; but he must be careful not to say
anything about his short captivity in the hands of the _Sumter's_ men.
Accordingly, when Marcy's filly was brought to the door after breakfast,
there was another horse brought with her for Jack's use. The coachman, who
had been so soundly rated the day before, came also, for the two-fold purpose
of making his peace with Marcy and welcoming the returned
sailor.
"Sarvent, Marse Marcy. Sarvent, Marse Jack," said he, dropping
his hat upon the ground and extending a hand to each of the boys. "So glad
to have you back, Marse Jack, and so proud to know that you wasn't
took prisoner by that pirate Semmes. We saw by the papers that he run out
on the high seas las' month, and I was mighty jubus that you might run
onto him. Glad to see you among us again, safe and sound, sar."
"And
Morris, I am very glad to see myself here," replied Jack, giving the black
man's hand a hearty shake. "So you take the papers, do you?"
"Well, no
sar; I don't take 'em, but the Missus does, and she tells me what's into 'em,
sar."
"I don't know that it makes any difference how you get the news so
long as you get it. But I am rather surprised to see you on the plantation.
I thought that of course you had run away and joined the Yankees
before this time. You had better dig out, for you are an Abolitionist, and
they hang Abolitionists in this country."
"Now, Marse Jack, I don't
like for to have you talk to me that a way" said the coachman in a tone of
reproach. "All the other niggers may go if they want to, but Morris stays
right here on the place. He does for a fac'. Who going to drive the carriage
if Morris runs away."
"Well, that's so," replied Jack, gathering up the
reins and placing his foot in the stirrup. "I didn't think of that. Help
Marcy into his saddle and then tell me what I shall bring you when I come
from town--a plug of store tobacco for yourself, and a big red handkerchief
for Aunt Mandy?"
"Thank you kindly, Marse Jack," said the coachman, with
a pleased laugh. "You always thinking of we black ones."
"Yes; I have
thought of them a good many times during the two years and better that I have
been knocking around the world," said Jack, as he and his brother rode out of
the yard. "Especially did I think of home when the brig was dismasted by a
tornado in the South Atlantic. We came as near going to the bottom that time
as we could without going, and I promised myself that if I ever again got a
foothold on solid ground, I would keep it; but here I am thinking of going to
sea once more, as soon as I have had a visit with you and mother."
"I
can't bear to think of it," said Marcy.
"I'd like to stay at home, but
these fanatics who are trying to break up the government won't let me,"
answered the sailor. "Now that you have had a chance to sleep on it, what do
you think of the proposition I made you last night?"
"About taking you
down to the blockading fleet at the Cape?" inquired Marcy. "Well, if you are
bound to go, I don't see that there is anything else you can do. Of course I
shall do all I can to help you, and if there was some trustworthy person to
look out for mother, I would go too; but I should go into the
army."
"Of course. Your training at Barrington has fitted you for that,
and you would be out of place on board ship. What color is the hull of
the _Fairy Belle_?"
"It's black," replied Marcy, catching at the idea.
"But it wouldn't take you and me long to make it some other color. That is
what Beardsley did when he turned his privateer into a
blockade-runner."
"And that is what we will do with your little
schooner--we will disguise her," said Jack, "and by the time we get through
with her, her best friends won't recognize her. More than that, if we have to
run within spyglass reach of the forts at the Inlet, we'll hoist the rebel
flag with the Stars and Stripes above it, to make the Confederates think
that she has been captured by the Yankees."
"But we haven't any rebel
flag," said Marcy.
"What's the reason we haven't? When the _Sumter's_
boarding officer told our captain that we were a prize to the Confederate
steamer, he hauled our colors down, and ran his own up in their place; and
they were there when we took the vessel out of the hands of the prize-crew. I
jerked it down myself, said nothing to nobody, and brought it home as a
trophy. It's in my valise now. When we return from town I intend to stick it
up in the sitting-room where every one can see it."
"You do?"
exclaimed Marcy. "Mother won't let you."
"Oh, I think she will," said
Jack, with a laugh. "She will know why it is put on the wall, and so will
you. Every time you two look at it, you will think of the part I played in
turning the tables on Semmes and his prize-crew; but the visitors who come to
the house on purpose to wheedle mother into saying something for the Union
and against the Confederacy, will think they are barking up the wrong tree,
and that the Gray family are secesh sure enough."
"I hope they will,
but I don't believe it," answered Marcy. "When you join the blockading fleet
and the neighbors ask me where you are, what shall I tell
them?"
"That's a question I will answer after I have been here long
enough to get my bearings," said Jack. "Did you remark that you would have to
stop at Beardsley's? Well, here we are."
The rapidity with which news
of all sorts traveled from one plantation to another, before and during the
war, was surprising. Among the letters that Marcy Gray had been commissioned
to deliver was one addressed to Captain Beardsley's grown-up daughter, and
the girl was waiting for them when they rode into the yard and drew rein at
the foot of the steps.
"Morning, gentle_men_," was the way in which she
greeted the two boys. "I was dreadful frightened when I heard that the
Yankees had run onto you, and that you had got your arm broke, Mister Marcy.
But it seems paw was into the same boat. Was he much hurted? Hope your
venture in quinine paid you well, Mister Jack. You done yourself proud by
running that schooner into Newbern with all them supplies aboard, but you
oughter stayed with her and helped her through the blockade."
"Oh, the
skipper will find plenty of pilots in Newbern," replied Jack, who was not a
little astonished to learn that the news of his return had already got abroad
in the settlement. "If I can't ship on something better than a
blockade-runner, I will stay ashore."
"But they do say there's a power of
money in it," said the girl. "Is that a fact, Marcy? Paw must have got safe
out and back from Nassau, or else you wouldn't be here now. Did he make much,
do you reckon?"
"I believe he calculated on clearing about twenty-five
thousand dollars," answered Marcy, who was looking over the package of
letters he had taken from his pocket.
"I say!" exclaimed the girl,
fairly dancing with delight. "If paw made that much he must get me the new
dress I want, and that's a word with a bark onto it. That letter for me?
Sarvent, sar. Good-bye."
"I don't see why Beardsley went to the trouble
of writing to her," said Jack, as the two turned about and rode away. "She
can't read a word of it."
"And I am very glad she can't," answered
Marcy. "She will take it to old Mrs. Brown, most likely, and if she does, she
might as well stick it up in the post-office. Mrs. Brown is a regular built
gossip, and if there is anything in the letter about me, as I think there is,
I shall be sure to hear of it. But don't it beat you how things get around?
Just see how much that girl knows; and I haven't been out of the house since
I came home yesterday afternoon. I tell you there are spies all about us.
Don't trust any one you may meet in town. Tell just the story you
want published, and nothing else. And don't forget that before you
sleep to-night I want you to bury seventeen hundred dollars for me. You've
got two good hands."
"Marcy, I am almost afraid to do it," replied
Jack. "Suppose some one should watch us and dig it up as soon as we went
away?"
"We'll take Bose with us for a sentry, and slip out of the house
after everybody else has gone to bed. We'll take all the precautions we
can think of and trust to luck. There's Nashville; now be as big a rebel
as you please. I know they'll not believe a word of it, but that won't
be your fault."
As Marcy expected, the first one to rush out of the
post-office and greet them, as they were hitching their horses, was young
Allison. He gave the sailor's hand a hearty shake, and then he turned to
Marcy.
"Really, I am surprised to see you here, and in citizen's clothes,
too," said the latter. "I should have thought that your zeal for
the Confederacy would have taken you into the army long ago. Man
alive, you're missing heaps of fun. Look at my arm. I've suffered for the
cause and you haven't." ["And what's more to the point, you don't mean
to, added Marcy to himself.]
"It's fun to have a broken arm, is it?"
exclaimed Allison. "I can't see it in that light. The reason I haven't
enlisted is because I thought that perhaps you would bring me a favorable
word from Captain Beardsley. Did you speak to him about taking me as one of
his crew?"
"I did, before I had been aboard the schooner half an
hour."
"And what did he say?"
"His reply was that he couldn't
accept you. The crew is full; you know nothing about a vessel; he wants
nothing but sailor-men aboard of him, and if you want to do something for the
South, the best thing you can do is to go into the army."
"Well, I'd
thank him to hold fast to his advice until he is asked to give it," said
Allison spitefully. "I'll not carry a musket; I can tell him that much. I
have seen some fellows who were in the fight at Bull Run, and they say that
the privates in our army are treated worse than dogs. If I could get a
commission the case would be different."
"That's the idea," said Jack.
"Why don't you pitch in and get one? Begin at the top of the ladder and not
at the foot. Crawl in at the cabin windows and don't bother about the
hawsehole. I mean--you see," added the sailor, seeing by the blank look on
his face that Allison did not understand his nautical language, "aboard ship
we take rank in this way: First the captain, then the mates, then the
captain's dog, and lastly the foremast-hands. And I suppose it must be the
same in the army."
"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Allison, opening his
eyes.
"I do mean every word of it. Ask any seafaring man and he will tell
you the same. Whatever you do, don't go before the mast--I mean don't
go into the ranks. Get a commission and be a man among men." ["You'd
look pretty with straps on your shoulders, _you_ would," said Jack
mentally. "I'd like to gaze upon the man who would be foolish enough to
put himself under your orders."]
"Don't go into the office yet," said
Allison, when the boys turned about as if to move away. "There's a crowd in
there, and I want you to stay and talk to me. Tell me how you got wounded,
Marcy."
"Let Jack tell you how he piloted that Yankee schooner into the
port of Newbern with a cargo of supplies for the Confederacy," replied Marcy.
He said this with an object in view; and that object was to find out
how much Allison knew about Jack's movements and his own.
Consequently, after his interview with Captain Beardsley's daughter, he was
not greatly surprised to hear Allison say:
"Jack hasn't much to tell,
has he? As I heard the story he had no trouble at all in bringing the
schooner through--he didn't even see the smoke of a blockader. But there's
one thing about it," he added, in a lower tone, "you boys have shut up the
mouths of some talkative people around here who have been trying hard to
injure you, especially Marcy."
"Why should anybody want to injure me?"
exclaimed Marcy, looking astonished. "I don't remember that I ever misused
any one in the settlement."
"I never heard of it," continued Allison.
"But they say that you are for the Union, and that the only reason you
shipped on Beardsley's schooner was because you had to."
"Some people
around here say that I am for the Union?" repeated Marcy, as though he had
never heard of such a thing before. "And that I shipped because I had
to?"
"That's what they say, sure's you're born; but your broken arm gives
the lie to all such tales as that. And as for Jack--did he know that
the _West Wind_ was a smuggler when he joined her in Boston?"
"Of
course he knew it," answered Marcy. "He brought out a venture and cleared
twelve hundred dollars by it."
"Whew!" whistled Allison. "I wish I could
make as much money as that; but somehow such chances never come my way. But
what is a venture, anyway?"
"It is a speculation that sailors
sometimes go into on their own hook," replied Marcy. "For example. Captain
Beardsley wanted me to invest my wages and prize-money in cotton, sell it in
Nassau for more than double what I gave for it, put the proceeds into
medicine and gun-caps, and so double my money again when we returned to
Newbern. If I had taken his advice, I might have been four or five thousand
dollars ahead of the hounds at this minute."
"You don't mean to say
that you _didn't_ act upon his advice?" exclaimed Allison.
"Yes;
that's just what I mean to say. You see, we stood a fine chance of being
captured by the Yankees, and Beardsley was so very much afraid of it that he
wouldn't load his vessel himself, but took out a cargo he obtained through a
commission merchant.--I see Jack is going into the post-office, and we might
as well go, too. If you hear anybody saying things behind my back that they
don't want to say to my face, tell them to ride up to our house and look at
the Confederate flag in our sitting-room, and then go somewhere and get shot
before they take it upon themselves to talk about one who has risked his life
while they were stopping safe at home."
"I'll do it," said Allison,
and Marcy was almost ready to believe that he meant what he said. "But are
you really flying the Confederate colors? Every one says that your
mother----"
"Yes, I know they do," said Marcy, when Allison paused and
looked frightened. "They think she is for the Union, and have set some
mean sneaks at work to get evidence against her; but you ride out
to-morrow or the next day and take a look at that flag. How do you do?" he
added, turning about to shake hands with Colonel Shelby and Mr. Dillon,
who came up at that moment and greeted him with the greatest
cordiality.
"We were very sorry to hear of your misfortune," said the
latter, "but you have the satisfaction of knowing that you have suffered in
a righteous cause. Did Captain Beardsley send any word to either of
us?"
"No, sir; but he sent a letter to each of you," answered the
boy, thrusting his hand into his pocket. "And there they are. This other
one is for the postmaster, and perhaps I had better go in and give it
to him."
The Colonel and his friend were so very anxious to learn what
Captain Beardsley had to say to them that they did not ask the
wounded blockade-runner any questions, but drew off on one side to read
their letters; and this action on their part went far toward
confirming Marcy's suspicions that these two men were the ones Beardsley had
left ashore "to do his dirty work" while he was at sea. He was as certain
as he could be, without positive proof, that those letters told of
the unsuccessful attempts the captain had made at different times to
find out whether or not there was any money hidden in Mrs. Gray's house.
That money had been a constant source of trouble to the boy, but now he
felt like yelling every time he thought of it. If their "secret enemies"
took the course that sailor Jack was afraid they might take--if they told
the Confederate authorities that Mrs. Gray, after repudiating her debts
to Northern merchants (debts that she never owed), had concealed the
money instead of turning it into the Confederate treasury as the law
provided, then there would be trouble indeed.
When Marcy and Allison
went into the post-office they found Jack surrounded by an interested group
of old-time friends, to whom he was giving a humorous account of Captain
Beardsley's unsuccessful effort to capture the vessel to which he
belonged.
"It happened right here on our own coast," said Jack. "She
first tried to fool us by showing the figures that were painted on her sails;
but that wouldn't go down with our old man. Then she hoisted the
English colors, but that made us sheer still farther away from her; for
what would a pilot-boat be doing in these waters with a foreign flag at
her peak? Than she cut loose on us with her bow gun, and we yelled and
shot back with sporting rifles. What do you think of a fellow who will
try his best to bring trouble to his only brother by showing a
friendly flag, and then shoot cannons at him when he finds he can't do it?
That's the way Marcy served me and more than that, he had the face to tell
me of it when I came home last night."
Of course this raised a laugh
at Marcy's expense, but he didn't seem to mind it. He gave the postmaster
Captain Beardsley's letter and asked for the mail in his mother's
box.
"And of course when the brig escaped you yelled as loudly as any
Yankee in the crew," observed one of his auditors. "I suppose you had to
in order to keep out of trouble."
"But I don't reckon he'll do it
again in a hurry," said another. "When he brought that Yankee schooner into
Newbern he proved to my satisfaction that he is as good a Confederate as any
man in the State. Why didn't you stay with her. Jack, and make yourself rich
by running the blockade?"
"I had two reasons," answered the sailor.
"In the first place I wanted to come home for awhile; and in the next, there
is too much danger these times in cruising about on an unarmed vessel. The
next time I ship it will be aboard of something that can fight."
"Did
you hear any talk of an ironclad that is being built in the river a few miles
above Newbern?" asked a third.
Jack winked first one eye and then the
other, looked sharply into the face of each member of the group around him,
and then turned about and softly rapped the counter with his
riding-whip.
"You needn't be afraid to speak freely," said the
postmaster, who knew what the sailor meant by this pantomime. "There isn't a
traitor within the hearing of your voice. We are all true blue."
"One
can't be too careful in times like these," replied Jack, turning around again
and facing the crowd. "After I have been among you awhile, I shall know who
my friends are. I did hear some talk of a heavy vessel that is to be added to
the defensive force of the city, and which might some time go outside and
scatter the blockading fleet, but I didn't go up to take a look at her. I
couldn't spare the time. She'll need a crew when she is completed, and if I
leave the settlement between two days--if I am here to-night and gone
to-morrow morning--my friends needn't worry over me."
"We understand.
You'll be on board an armed vessel fighting for
your principles."
"You're right I will. Now, George," he added,
turning to the clerk and slamming his saddle-bags upon the counter, "I want
one of those pockets filled with plug tobacco, and the other stuffed with the
gaudiest bandanas you've got in the store."
The clerk took the
saddle-bags, and when they were passed back to their owner a few minutes
later, they were so full that it was a matter of some difficulty to buckle
the flaps. Then the boys said good-bye and left the store. They started off
in a lope, but when they were a mile or so from the town and alone on the
road, they drew their horses down to a walk, and Jack said:
"Do they
take me for one of them or not?"
"They pretend to, but everybody is so
sly and treacherous that you can't place reliance upon anything," answered
his brother. "What you said about leaving home between two days was good. It
will help me, for I can refer to it when you are gone. Now, Jack, you must
put up that rebel flag the minute you get home. I told Allison about it, and
if he should ride out some day and find the flag wasn't there, he would
suspect that we are not just the sort of folks he has been led to
believe."
"All right! And our next hard work must be to hide your money
and paint that schooner of yours. We'll go about it openly and above board.
We'll say she is scaling,--if she isn't she ought to be, for it is a long
time since she saw a brush,--and that she needs another coat of paint
to protect her from the weather."
This programme was duly carried out.
Of course Mrs. Gray protested, mildly, when Jack brought down his rebel flag,
and, after spreading it upon the floor so that his mother could have a good
view of it, proceeded to hang it upon the sitting-room wall; but when the
boys told her why they thought it best to place it there, she became silent
and permitted them to do as they pleased. While they were putting the
trophy in position, Jack found opportunity to whisper to his
brother:
"Now, if any of our officious neighbors give the Confederate
officers a hint that mother is keeping back money that she ought to turn into
the treasury, and they come here to search the house, they'll take a look
at this flag and go away without touching a thing. Mark what I tell
you."
"But suppose the Yankees come here and take a look at it; then
what?" whispered Marcy, in reply.
"Well, that will be a black horse of
another color," said Jack. "They'll come here--don't you lose any sleep
worrying about that; but when they come, you must see to it that this flag is
out of sight. I'll say one thing for the rebels," he said aloud, turning his
head on one side and gazing critically at his prize, "they've got good taste.
I've seen the colors of all civilized nations, and that flag right there on
the wall is the handsomest in the world, save one."
"But think of the
principles it represents," exclaimed Mrs. Gray. "Disunion and
slavery."
"Of course," replied Jack. "But when these fanatics have been
soundly thrashed, there will be no such things as disunion and slavery.
They will be buried out of sight. I was speaking of the rebel flag,
which, next to our own, is the prettiest I ever saw. Their naval uniforms
are handsome, too."
Of course it soon became known among the servants
that there was a Confederate banner displayed upon the walls of the "great
house," and those who came into the room turned the whites of their eyes at
it and then looked at Marcy and Jack in utter astonishment. But the boys
did not appear to notice them nor did they volunteer any
explanation--not even when old Morris came in to satisfy himself that the
astounding news he had heard was really true. The sight of the emblem, which
he knew was upheld by men who were fighting for the sole purpose of keeping
him and his race in bondage, struck him dumb, and he left the room as
silently as he had entered it. In less than half an hour the news
reached Hanson's ears, and that worthy, astonished and perplexed,
waited impatiently for night to come so that he could ride into town and
tell Colonel Shelby about
it.
CHAPTER
XII.
CONFLICTING REPORTS.
During the
next three weeks Marcy Gray would have lived in a fever of suspense had it
not been for the presence of courageous, happy-go-lucky sailor Jack. He could
not for a moment forget the letters which, at Captain Beardsley's request, he
had delivered to Colonel Shelby and the rest. Did they convey to those who
received them the information that Beardsley no longer believed that there
was money concealed in Mrs. Gray's house, or did they contain instructions
concerning a new plot that was to be worked up against Marcy and his mother?
The boys did not know, and never found out for certain what it was that the
captain wrote in those letters. That night, after placing the captured
Confederate flag upon the wall of the sitting-room, Jack turned the proceeds
of the sale of his "venture" over to his mother, buried Marcy's prize money
in one of the flower beds, and bright and early the next morning went
to work to disguise the _Fairy Belle_ so that "her own brother
wouldn't know her." If the neighboring planters who visited them, and whom
they visited in return, had any suspicion that the captured flag in
the sitting-room did not express the political sentiments of the
family, they said nothing to indicate it. Their life apparently was as quiet
and peaceful as though such a thing as a slaveholders' rebellion had
never been heard of; but one day it was broken up most unexpectedly, and
young Allison was the first to tell them of it.
"Glorious victory of
the Confederate arms," he shouted, jumping off the steps of the store in
which the post-office was located, and running full tilt toward the place
where Jack and Marcy were hitching their horses. "Didn't we always say the
Northern people had no business alongside of us? The crowd in the post-office
have cheered themselves hoarse, and you fellows ought to have been here to
join in."
"Has there been another fight?" asked Jack. "Where did it take
place and how much of a fight was it?"
"Well, you see," said Allison,
"there hasn't exactly been any fight yet, but there's going to be if the
cowardly Yankees will only give us a chance to get at them."
"Oh,"
said Jack, while an expression of disgust settled on his face. "Where is it
going to come off and how do you happen to know so much about
it?"
"Why, the authorities know all about it, and I suppose the papers
got the information from them," replied Allison. "At any rate, there's
a strong land and naval expedition being fitted out at Fortress
Monroe, and it is coming down here to destroy forts Hatteras and Clark and
block up Hatteras Inlet."
"And that expedition hasn't got here
yet?"
"No. It's going to sail on Monday. We know all about it in spite of
the efforts the Yankees have made to keep it secret."
"If the ships
haven't even sailed yet, why do you raise such a row over a Confederate
victory that is not won?" asked Jack.
"Oh, it's going to be won," said
Allison confidently. "Everybody says so, and we thought we would begin to
holler in time. What we are afraid of is, that old Hatteras will turn in and
fight the battle for us by kicking up such a sea that the Yankee ships won't
dare come near the Inlet. That would be bad for us, for of course if they
keep beyond the range of our guns we can't sink them. Oh, they're bound to
get a whipping if we can only get a chance to give it to
them."
Although the Confederates boasted loudly of the strong
fortifications which (so they said) had been thrown up everywhere along their
coast, and even went so far as to warn the Federal government that the
most powerful expedition that could be fitted out against
these fortifications would be sure to meet with disaster, Marcy Gray was
well aware that the coast was almost defenseless, because one of his
papers, the Augusta _Chronicle and Sentinel_ was brave enough to tell the
truth now and then. Only a few days before, this paper had called upon
the government to provide for coast defense by "organizing and
drilling infantry and guerrillas at home," so that there would be no need to
call upon the Confederate President for troops. The same paper also
stated that the Union naval officers knew the bays and inlets along the
coast like a book from surveys in their possession, and if so disposed,
there were many places where they might raid and do damage before they
could be driven off. But events proved that the Union forces did not go
down to the coast of the Carolinas just to give the Confederates the fun
of driving them off. When once they got a foothold there they kept it,
in spite of all the efforts that were made to dislodge them.
Having
secured their horses and listened to all that young Allison had to tell them
concerning the glorious victory that had not yet been won, the brothers bent
their steps toward the post-office, where they found a crowd of men and boys
who seemed to be trying to make themselves ridiculous. They acted in the same
senseless way that those travelling companions did whom Marcy Gray found on
the train when he left Barrington, and could not have been more excited and
jubilant if the five war ships and two transport steamers, that were to
operate against the forts at Hatteras Inlet, had already been wrecked on the
bar or sent to the bottom by Confederate shells. One of these two things was
sure to happen to that expedition; they had not the slightest doubt on
that point.
Marcy and his brother did not linger long at the
post-office after they received their mail, for the boyish antics and
confident boastings of the crowd that filled every foot of space between the
two counters, were more than they could stand. Pleading business as an
excuse, they got away as soon as they could, and unfolded their papers when
they were in their saddles, only to find that Allison had told them about all
there was to be learned regarding the Hatteras expedition. There were
the editorials, of course, and when the boys glanced over them they
knew where that crowd in the post-office got its inspiration.
"These
editors remind me of Allison," said Marcy. "Seated in their comfortable
rooms, hundreds of miles away from the threatened point, they speak of _our_
coming victory and the pounding _we_ are going to give the Yankee ships the
minute they come within range. But I'll tell you one thing, Jack--that
expedition isn't strong enough."
"Don't worry about that," replied Jack.
"Uncle Sam won't send a boy to mill as long as he's got a man handy. If they
sail from Fortress Monroe on Monday, they ought to get here on Tuesday
afternoon at the latest. Probably the fight will begin on Wednesday. Now
let's watch the weather, and see whether or not Allison's amiable wish is
likely to be gratified. Now Marcy, I will tell you something. If the Federals
win a victory they will garrison those forts to break up blockade running,
and carry on operations farther down the coast. As soon as we hear they are
doing that, you must stand by with the _Fairy Belle_."
"She'll be
ready when you want her, but it is the hardest task one brother ever put upon
another," answered Marcy.
"I am sorry to ask you to do it," said Jack,
"but it is my only chance; and you can see for yourself that I can't live at
home. Our whole family is under suspicion; and if I don't get away while I
can, there will be such a pressure brought to bear upon me by and by, that I
shall be forced to enter the rebel service or take to the
swamps."
"Why Jack, you know you wouldn't do such a thing as that,"
exclaimed Marcy.
"Hide in the swamps? I'd do it in a minute sooner
than lift a hand against the flag that your grandfather and mine died under,
and under which I have sailed the world over. Why Marcy, you claim to love
the old flag, but I tell you that you don't know any more about it than the
man in the moon. Now don't get huffy, but wait until you have laid for
long weeks in a foreign port, thousands of miles from home and
friends, looking for a cargo which takes its own time in coming, and
surrounded by people whose hostility to all white men is such that they would
cut your throat in a second if they were not afraid of the consequences,
and let some one on deck report a stranger inside. You look over the
side and see a handsome ship standing in with the Stars and Stripes waving
in the air. When you have felt every nerve in you thrill with
excitement and pride, as I have on such occasions, then you can talk of your
love for the old flag. I'll fight for it as long as I can stand; but
I'll starve and die in the swamp before I will fight against
it."
Sailor Jack spoke with unusual warmth, and if Marcy's patriotism
had been on the wane, his brother's earnest words would have infused
new life and strength into it. If the Northern people, with their
immense resources, were animated by the same spirit, it would not be long,
he told himself, before the old flag would crowd its secession rival to
the wall. Of course Mrs. Gray was very much alarmed by the startling
news the boys brought from Nashville, and she straightway began talking
of hiding the money Jack had given her, and of stowing the family silver
in some safe place; but Jack laughed at the idea.
"Why, mother, the
Northern soldiers are not coming down here to steal our valuables," said he.
"They are not robbers."
"But have you never read how lawless all soldiers
are?" inquired Mrs. Gray. "They take delight in despoiling an enemy. It seems
to be part of their creed. And then--look a' that," she added, pointing
toward the rebel flag.
"That will not be in sight when the Federals
come around here," replied Marcy. "I'll make it my business to get it out of
the way, and then I'll rip up one of my bed quilts and show them my Union
colors."
The fear that had taken possession of Marcy's mother--that
possibly the Union forces might ascend the Roanoke River, capture Plymouth,
and devastate the surrounding country--now took possession of Marcy
also. Northern soldiers had not yet been given an opportunity to show
the merciful way in which the inhabitants of captured cities were to
be treated during the war, and Marcy may be pardoned for looking into
the future with fear and trembling. The neighboring planters and
their families did much to add to Mrs. Gray's fears and Marcy's, as well as
to increase the general feeling of uneasiness which began spreading
through the settlement as soon as the newspapers arrived. If they believed,
as the Charleston and Newbern editors seemed to believe,--that the
attack on Hatteras Inlet was sure to end in failure,--they nevertheless
thought it the part of wisdom to prepare for the worst; and they at once
began the work of concealing everything that was likely to excite the
cupidity of the lawless Union soldiers. Remembering what their Mobile papers
had said about the ragged, half-starved appearance of the
Massachusetts troops who marched through the streets of Baltimore, they even
hid their clothing and carted the contents of their smoke-houses and
corn-cribs into the woods. But busy as they were, some of the women found
time to run over and compare notes with Mrs. Gray, and see what she
thought about it; and because she tried to accept Jack's view of the
situation, and believed that there would be no invasion of the Union forces,
the visitors went away to spread the report elsewhere that Mrs. Gray
wasn't afraid of the Yankees because she sympathized with them.
"Would
you believe it, she isn't hiding a thing," said one of these gossips. "She
looks white, but she can't make me think that she's frightened as long as she
sits there in her rocking-chair as cool as a cucumber. I know that Jack
belongs to a blockade-runner, that Jack piloted a Yankee smuggler into one of
our ports, and that Mrs. Gray has a Confederate flag hung up in her
sitting-room; but I don't care for that. She's Union, the whole family is
Union, and I know it."
Mrs. Gray and the boys always looked troubled
after an interview with one of these busybodies, who did not scruple to
magnify every rumor that came to their ears, and wished from the bottom of
their hearts that they would stay at home and attend to the business of
hiding their valuables; but when the day drew to a close the gossips ceased
to trouble them, for they were afraid to go out of doors after
dark.
"And between you and me I don't blame them for being afraid," said
Jack, when he and Marcy went up to bed. "It is in times like these that
the turbulent and vicious members of the community show their hands.
The rebels have been maltreating Union people all over the South, and
I don't know why we should expect to escape. Well," he added, shoving
a brace of revolvers under his pillow, while Marcy provided for his
own defence in the same way, "if anybody comes we'll give him as good as
he sends, provided he gives us half a chance."
The moment Jack Gray
opened his eyes the next morning he jumped out of bed and drew the curtain.
"All right so far," said he, in a satisfied tone; "and that rebel Allison is
in a fair way to be disappointed."
"But you must remember that the fleet
hasn't arrived off the cape yet," Marcy reminded him. "With the best of luck
it cannot get there until late this afternoon. I wish we could go down and
watch the fight."
"I wish we could be in it," replied Jack, "for I just
know it will end in a Union victory."
But as they could do neither one
thing nor the other, they were obliged to possess their souls in patience. Of
course they went to Nashville after breakfast, and of course, too, they found
in the post-office the same excited and confident crowd they had met the day
before, who had all sorts of stories to tell them.
"Report says that
the most of the Union ships foundered before they were fairly out of sight of
Fortress Monroe," shouted Allison, in great glee. "I am sorry for that, for I
wanted our boys to have the honor of sending them to the
bottom."
"Another report says that one of the old tubs that the Yankees
were using for a transport ship sprung a leak and went down with every
soul on board," said a second speaker.
"Why didn't the other vessels
save them?" asked Marcy.
"They couldn't. There was a heavy gale
on."
"Who brought these reports?" inquired Jack.
"The papers, of
course."
"How did the papers get them, seeing that all telegraphic
communication with the North is cut off?" continued Jack.
"It makes no
difference how they got the news so long as they got it," exclaimed Allison.
"You talk and act as though you don't want to believe it."
"It is no
concern of yours how I talk and act, you stay-at-home blow-hard. My common
sense will not let me believe any such reports, which are not reports at all,
but something those newspaper men made up all out of their own heads, on
purpose to give such fellows as you a subject to talk about. Some of the
fleet may have sprung a leak--probably they did if they were not seaworthy;
but it wasn't in a gale. I watched the weather closely last night, and if
there had been a blow outside we should have felt some of the force of it,"
said Jack. He spoke calmly enough, but he gave Allison such a look that the
latter did not think it safe to say another word until the brothers were well
on their way toward home.
During the rest of the day Jack and Marcy
did little else but stroll about the grounds and talk--they had no heart for
work of any sort. Every time Jack took out his watch he would offer some such
remark as this: "If the expedition has had no bad luck, it ought to be off
such and such a place by this time;" and at three in the afternoon
he electrified his brother by declaring confidently: "Now the ships are
off Hatteras, and are probably looking about for a good place to put
the troops ashore." And subsequent events proved that he guessed
pretty close to the mark, for history says, "By two o'clock on Tuesday
the fleet arrived off Hatteras, and the _Monticello_ was despatched
to reconnoiter the position, and to look out a suitable
landing-place."
Thus far everything had gone well. The weather was all
that could be desired, and the hearts of the loyal people along that coast
beat high with hope; but when Jack Gray drew the window curtain on
Wednesday morning, he turned to his brother with a look of disappointment on
his face.
"They will probably try to land some of the troops to-day to
cut off the retreat of the Fort Hatteras garrison after the war ships have
whipped them," said he. "But if they don't get about it pretty soon, I am
afraid they'll not make it. It's going to blow by-and-by, and if the wind
comes from the southeast, as it generally does, the ships will have to make
an offing to secure their own safety."
And that was just the way
things turned out. That morning some of General Butler's troops were landed a
few miles from the forts under cover of some of the gunboats, while the
others opened a hot fire upon the fortifications. The battle thus commenced
lasted from nine o'clock until almost night, and then Fort Clark was
abandoned, while the flag was hauled down on Fort Hatteras in token of
surrender, whereupon the _Monticello_ steamed into the inlet; but when she
came within a few hundred yards of the fort, the heavy guns of the
Confederates opened upon her with such terrible effect that she was badly cut
up, and in danger of sinking. The man in command of the fort who was guilty
of this act of treachery was Commodore Barron, formerly of the United
States Navy. He would have scorned to do such a thing while the old flag
waved above him, but when he threw off his allegiance to the government he
had sworn to defend, he threw off his manhood with it. But he gained
nothing by it. The battle was fiercely renewed by the Union forces, and the
next day Commodore Barron hoisted the white flag and surrendered himself
and his garrison unconditionally. In going off to the fleet he was
obliged to pass close under the guns of the _Wabash_, a fine vessel which,
six months before, he had himself commanded with honor.
While these
events were taking place at Hatteras Inlet, Marcy and his brother remained at
home, waiting with as much patience as they could to see how the battle was
going to end. They knew there was a battle going on, for they heard about it
when they went to the post-office on Thursday morning; and if they had
believed all that was told them, they would have gone home very much
disheartened. One man assured them (and he got his information from his
papers) that the remnant of the fleet, that is to say all the vessels that
had not been wrecked when the expedition left Fortress Monroe, had made its
appearance in due time, begun the assault in the most gallant manner, and the
few that had not been sunk or disabled by the seventeen heavy guns of the
forts, had been scattered by the gale. The flag of the Confederacy waved
triumphant, and Hatteras Inlet was yet open to blockade-runners.
When
the two were on their way home, and each had read all he cared to read in
papers that did not give any reliable information,
Marcy inquired:
"How much of those stories do you
believe?"
"Not quite half," replied Jack. "Perhaps some of the attacking
fleet were sunk; they are liable to be when they go into action. But I
believe that if our fellows were whipped, they were whipped by the gale and
not by the forts. We ought to hear something definite in the course of a
few days."
And they heard something the very next morning; but even
then, to quote from Jack, who was very much disgusted when he said it, they
"didn't get the straight of the story." Young Allison did not come out to
greet them when they drew up their horses at the hitching-rack (he objected
to being called a stay-at-home blow-hard), but Colonel Shelby and
his intimate friend, Dillon, were standing close by, and the boys
noticed that they looked very solemn.
"Well, the agony is over," said
the colonel.
"Have you received some reliable news at last?" exclaimed
Jack. "How did it come out? Which whipped?"
"Oh, the Federals overcame
us with the force of numbers aided by their long-range guns," answered the
colonel. "My paper acknowledges a defeat, but says it doesn't amount to
anything, for it will not help the enemy in any way."
"It will close
Hatteras against blockade-runners, will it not?" said Marcy.
"Oh, that
doesn't amount to a row of pins," said the colonel. "We have Wilmington,
Charleston, and a dozen other ports that the Yankees can't shut up for want
of a suitable fleet. They haven't stationed a ship off Crooked Inlet yet, and
you and Captain Beardsley----"
"I know they haven't put a ship there,"
Marcy interposed. "But if they didn't have the wickedest kind of a steam
launch at that very place the last time I came through, I don't want to lay
up anything for old age. That night's work put the blockaders on their guard,
and we can't use that Inlet any more. Beyond a doubt they pulled up our
buoys, and more than that, they'll watch it as a terrier watches a rathole.
Beardsley will have to lay his schooner up or go somewhere else."
"You
will go with him, I suppose?" said Dillon carelessly.
"I am ordered to
report at the end of ninety days," replied Marcy, who knew that the question
was meant for a "feeler." "If I live I shall do so; and I expect to stay with
the schooner as long as she is in the business."
"As for me, I shall
report in less than ninety days," said Jack. "I've a notion to start for
Newbern to-morrow; and if I find that things are working as I should like to
have them, I will return and say good-bye to mother, and some fine morning
you'll see Marcy ride down to the post-office alone."
"Good for you,
Jack!" exclaimed the colonel, thrusting out his hand. "I looked for something
like this when I heard that you had purchased a Confederate flag and brought
it home with you. Where did you get the flag, if it is a fair
question?"
"Of a good Confederate," replied Jack readily. "He left it in
a certain place, and when I saw my chance I took it."
"Had to take it
on the sly, did you? Then there must have been some Union men hanging
around."
"There were, several of them; and they were fighting mad, too.
But I got away with the flag."
"I hope it will not be the means of
bringing mischief to you and your mother," said the colonel; "but if I were
in your place, I wouldn't make it so conspicuous. Now, when you go to Newbern
to enlist in the army----"
"But if I go there, it will not be for any
such purpose," interrupted Jack. "On land I am as awkward as a mud-turtle;
but when I am at sea, I can get about with the best of them. I shall go into
the navy if I can get the chance."
"Never fear. You'll get the chance
easy enough. When you return I should like to have you tell me how things
look on our side, and what the Yankees are doing at the Inlet."
"You
mustn't be surprised if I don't," answered Jack, "for I may slip back and
slip out again without taking time to say good-bye to anybody. When I fail to
come to town with Marcy, you may know that I am in the navy."
When the
boys went in after their mail, they found a silent and sulky-looking company
leaning against the counters. They said not a word to the new-comers or to
one another, but simply stared at the floor, apparently absorbed with gloomy
reflections. Jack and his brother were glad to find them so, for it gave them
an opportunity to secure their mail without delay and get away by themselves,
where they could exult to their hearts' content over the victory at
Hatteras.
"What is this new notion you have taken into your head all of a
sudden?" was the first question Marcy propounded. "You haven't any idea of
going to Newbern."
"Yes, I think it would be a good plan," said Jack.
"I want to know just where the Union fleet is, and what it is doing, and I
can't depend upon these lying rebel papers to tell me. So the only thing I
can do is to find out for myself; for of course I don't want to run outside
in the _Fairy Belle_ unless I know of a certainty that there is a gunboat
there to receive me. If Beardsley's schooner is in port I'll take a look
at her, and then I can tell whether or not she is the one that chased
the _Sabine_."
"She's the one," replied Marcy. "But you'll not know
her. She is disguised."
Jack said he didn't care if she had been
painted a dozen different colors since he saw her, she couldn't fool him. He
would look at her "general make-up;" and while he was describing some
peculiarities in the _Hattie's_ rigging that Marcy had not noticed himself,
they rode through the gate into the
yard.
CHAPTER
XIII.
UNION OR CONFEDERATE--WHICH?
For the
first time since sailor Jack came home he was the bearer of good news, and
you may be sure that his mother was glad to listen to it. He declared that he
took no stock whatever in the thousand and one conflicting reports that had
come to him through the papers, and so suspicious had he become that the only
thing that led him to believe the rebels had been worsted in the fight at
Hatteras, was because they were willing to confess it themselves. Of course
it would not be safe for him to try to carry out his resolve to enlist in the
Union navy until he knew just how the land lay; and the only way in which he
could find out would be to go to Newbern and make personal observations. If
his mother did not object he would start the very next morning and take Marcy
with him. This proposition startled Mrs. Gray, for she had looked
upon another separation from Jack as something that was far in the
future, and would not allow herself to think about it if she could help it.
She said nothing discouraging, however, and Jack's programme was
duly carried out.
The trip to Newbern was the most exciting and
altogether disagreeable one that Marcy had ever taken on the cars. The train
was crowded with soldiers, and among them were some boisterous and
inquisitive ones who seemed to think it their duty to question every civilian
who came on board. And they did not do it in the most gentlemanly manner,
either. Before the train had left Boydtown a mile behind, a young man,
dressed in a neat, clean uniform that had never seen a minute's service at
the front, stopped in the aisle and laid his hand heavily on
Jack's shoulder.
"Look here, my lad," said he, in a tone that was as
offensive as his manner, "you are strong and able-bodied, are you
not?"
"You'll think so if you don't take your hand off my collar
mighty sudden," replied Jack, jumping from his seat.
"Hallo!"
exclaimed the young man, starting back in some alarm when he saw the sailor's
broad shoulders rising to a level with his own. "I wouldn't throw on any
airs," he added, glancing around at his uniformed companions, who straightway
became interested in the proceedings.
"I won't, and I don't mean to let
you do so, either--not with me," replied Jack. "You seem to feel very
important because you happen to have some good clothes on, but you haven't
been under fire yet."
"Neither have you," answered the
Confederate.
"That's all you know about it. Now go off and let me alone,
or I'll pitch you through the window."
The young man fell back to call
up re-enforcements, and Jack took his seat again.
"It's all right,"
said he, when he noticed the troubled expression on his brother's face.
"Because he wears a uniform himself, he thinks he had a right to know why I
haven't one also; but it is none of his business. Besides, it is nothing more
than you did to Allison in the post-office at Nashville."
"But I was
among friends when I backed Allison down, and these men are all strangers to
us," replied Marcy.
"No matter for that. I judge by their looks that they
are mostly Americans, and if they are they will see fair play. There will be
a white man along to question us presently."
And sure enough there
was. The defeated rebel drew back a little way to hold a council of war with
some of his friends, and in a few minutes one of these friends, whose uniform
was by no means as clean and neat as the others', arose from his seat and
came down the aisle.
"Beg pardon, sir," said he respectfully. "I wish to
offer a word of excuse for my impulsive young companion's conduct. He is a
warm patriot----"
"So I see," said Jack, with a smile. "A good many
get that way the minute they put on a gray suit; but my brother and I, who
have already risked our lives and liberty, do not feel called upon to give an
account of ourselves to every raw recruit who may demand it. If he had asked
me a civil question I would have given him a civil answer."
"Of
course; certainly. But I know you will overlook it this time. But are you two
really in the service?"
"My brother has been on a privateer and now he
belongs to a blockade-runner," answered Jack. "You see he's got a bad arm,
don't you? The Yankees gave him that."
"Well, well!" exclaimed the
man, who did not know what else to say. "He ought to have a uniform
on."
"His crew don't have any," replied Jack. "And if you want to know
what I have done--by the way, are you going to Newbern?"
The soldier
said he was.
"Well, when you get there go to Parker & Wall's and ask
them whether or not the supplies the _West Wind_ brought down from Boston are
going to be of any use to the Confederacy. I was second mate and pilot of
that craft, and might have been on board of her yet if I had been inclined
to stay; but if there is going to be a war I want a hand in it. I am
going to Newbern to see if there is any chance for me to get into the
navy."
Of course, after such a talk as this it was impossible for the
brothers to keep to themselves as they would like to have done. The
inquisitive rebel apologized to Jack and introduced his friends; and from
that time forward there was a crowd of soldiers hanging about his seat all
the while. Some of them had seen service and some hadn't; and the
latter were particularly anxious to know how Marcy felt when that shrapnel
came over the _Hattie's_ bow and knocked him and Captain Beardsley down,
and whether or not he was frightened and afraid he was going to be
killed.
"The whole thing was done so quickly, and I was so excited, that
I didn't have time to ask myself whether I was frightened or not,"
was Marcy's invariable reply; and it seemed to satisfy his
questioners.
To Jack Gray's disappointment there was not a soldier in the
car who could tell him anything definite regarding the situation at
Hatteras Inlet; but some of them interested themselves in the matter, and
finally discovered a citizen who knew all about it, but who, upon
being questioned, proved to be almost as ignorant as the rest. The few
things he _did_ know, however, were very encouraging to Jack. The
captured forts had not been destroyed, he said, and that seemed to indicate
that the Yankees intended to place garrisons there. The vessels of
the attacking fleet had not been sunk or scattered, and neither was there
a sailor killed during the |
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