The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “And how came you to enter the army, Tony?”

  “Well, sah, dere wasn’t much choice about it. De Northern people, dey talk mighty high about der love for de negro, but I don’t see much of it in der ways. Why, sah, dey is twice as scornful ob a black man as de gentleman is in de Souf. I list in de army, sah, because dey say dey go to Richmond, and den I find Dinah and de boy.”

  “Well, Tony, I little thought when I did you a service that it would be the means of you being able to save my life some day.”

  “Not much in dat, sah. You sabe my life, because dey would, for suah, hab caught me and killed me. Den you save my wife for me, den you pay out dat Jackson, and now you hab killed him. I could hab shouted for joy, sah, when I saw you hit him ober de head wid de shovel, and I saw dat dis time he gib no more trouble to no one. I should hab done for him bery soon, sah. I had my eye upon him, and the fust time we go into battle he get a ball in his back. Lucky he didn’t see me. He not officer ob my company, and me look quite different in de uniform to what me was when I work on de plantation; but I know him, and wheneber I see him pass I hung down my head and I say to myself, ‘My time come soon, Massa Jackson; my time come bery soon, and den we get quits.’”

  “It is wrong to nourish revenge, Tony; but I really can’t blame you very much as to that fellow. Still, I should have blamed you if you had killed him—blamed you very much. He was a bad man, and he treated you brutally, but you see he has been already punished a good deal.”

  “Yes, you knock him down, sah. Dat bery good, but not enough for Tony.”

  “But that wasn’t all, Tony. You see, the affair set all my friends against him, and his position became a very unpleasant one. Then, you see, if it hadn’t been for you he would probably have got through to our lines again after he had escaped with me. Then, you see, his father, out of revenge, stole Dinah away.”

  “Stole Dinah!” Tony exclaimed, stopping in his work. “Why, sah, you hab been telling me dat she is safe and well wid Mrs. Wingfield.”

  “So she is, Tony. But he stole her for all that, and had her carried down into Carolina; but I managed to bring her back. It’s a long story, but I will tell you about it presently. Then the knowledge that I had found Dinah, and the fear of punishment for his share of taking her away, caused old Jackson to fly from the country, getting less than a quarter of the sum his estate would have fetched two or three years ago. That was what made him and his son turn Unionists. So, you see, Jackson was heavily punished for his conduct to you, and it did not need for you to revenge yourself.”

  “So he was, sah, so he was,” Tony said thoughtfully. “Yes, it does seem as if all dese tings came on kinder one after de oder just out ob dat flogging he gabe me; and now he has got killed for just de same cause, for if he hadn’t been obliged to turn Unionist he wouldn’t have been in dat dar battery at de time you came dere. Yes, I sees dat is so, sah; and I’se glad now I didn’t hab a chance ob shooting him down, for I should have done so for suah ef I had.”

  They had now reached the river. The sun was just showing above the horizon, and the broad sheet of water was already astir. Steamers were making their way up from the mouth of the river laden with stores for the army. Little tugs were hurrying to and fro. Vessels that had discharged their cargo were dropping down with the tide, while many sailing-vessels lay at anchor waiting for the turn of tide to make their way higher up. Norfolk was, however, the base from which the Federal army drew the larger portion of its stores; as there were great conveniences for landing here, and a railway thence ran up to the rear of their lines. But temporary wharfs and stages had been erected at the point of the river nearest to their camps in front of Petersburg, and here the cattle and much of the stores required for the army were landed. At the point at which Vincent and Tony had struck the river the banks were somewhat low. Here and there were snug farms, with the ground cultivated down to the river. The whole country was open and free from trees, except where small patches had been left. It was in front of one of these that Vincent and Tony were now standing.

  “I do not think there is any risk of pursuit now, Tony. This is not the line on which they will be hunting us. The question is—how are we to get across?”

  “It’s too far to swim, sah.”

  “I should think it was,” Vincent said with a laugh. “It’s three or four miles, I should say, if it’s a foot. The first question is—where are we to get a boat? I should think that some of these farmhouses are sure to have boats, but the chances are they have been seized by the Yankees long ago. Still they may have some laid up. The Yanks would not have made much search for those, though they would no doubt take all the larger boats for the use of the troops or for getting stores ashore. Anyhow, I will go to the next farmhouse and ask.”

  “Shall I go, sah?”

  “No, Tony, they would probably take you for a runaway. No, I will go. There can be no danger. The men are all away, and the women are sure to be loyal. I fancy the few who were the other way before will have changed their minds since the Yanks landed.”

  They followed the bank of the river for a quarter of a mile, and then Vincent walked on to a small farmhouse standing on the slope fifty yards from the water. Two or three children who were playing about outside at once ran in upon seeing a stranger, and a moment later two women came out. They were somewhat reassured when they saw Vincent approaching alone.

  “What is it, stranger?” one of them asked. “Do you want a meal? We have got little enough to offer you, but what there is you are welcome to; the Yanks have driven off our cows and pigs and the two horses, and have emptied the barns, and pulled up all the garden stuff, and stole the fowls, and carried off the bacon from the beams, so we have got but an empty larder. But as far as bread and molasses go, you are welcome.”

  “Thank you,” Vincent said; “I am not in want of food. What I am in want of is a boat.”

  “Boat!” the women repeated in surprise.

  “Yes, I want to get across to the other side, or else to get up the river and land between Petersburg and Bermuda.”

  “Sakes alive!” the woman exclaimed; “what do you want to do that for?”

  “I will tell you,” Vincent replied. “I know I can trust my life to any woman in the Confederacy. I am one of General Wade Hampton’s officers, and I have come through their lines to find out what they are doing. I have been caught once, but managed to slip through their hands, but there is no possibility of making my way back across the country, for the Yankee cavalry are patrolling every road, and the only chance I have is of getting away by boat.”

  “Step right in, sir,” the woman said. “It’s a real pleasure to us to have one of our officers under our roof.”

  “I have a friend with me,” Vincent said; “a faithful negro, who has helped me to escape, and who would be hung like a dog if they could lay hands on him.”

  “Bring him in, sir,” the woman said hospitably. “I had four or five niggers till the Yanks came, but they all ran away ’cause they knew they would either be set to work or made to fight; so they went. They said they would come back again when the trouble is over; maybe they will and maybe they won’t. At first the niggers about here used to look for the Yanks coming, but as the news got about of what happened to those they took from their masters, they concluded they were better off where they were. Call your boy in, sir; call him in.”

  Vincent gave a shout, and Tony at once came up.

  “Thank you, we don’t want anything to eat,” Vincent went on as the woman began to put some plates on the table. “We have just had a hearty meal, and have got enough food for three or four days in that bundle. But we want a boat, or, if we can’t find that, some sailors’ clothes. If I had them I would keep along the river down to Norfolk. The place will be full of sailors. We should not be likely to be noticed there.”

  “I can’t help you in that,” the woman said; “but there are certainly some boats laid up along the shore. Now, Maria, who has got boats that haven
’t been taken?”

  “I expect the Johnsons have got one,” the other woman replied. “They had a small boat the boys and girls used to go out fishing in. I don’t think the Yanks have got that. I expect they hid it away somewhere; but I don’t know as they would let you have it. She is a close-fisted woman is Sarah Johnson.”

  “I could pay her for its value,” Vincent said.

  “Oh, well, if you could pay her she would let you have it. I don’t say she wouldn’t, anyhow, seeing as you are an officer, and the Yanks are after you. Still, she is close is Sarah Johnson, and I don’t know as she is so set on the Confederacy as most people. I tell you what I will do, sir. I will go down and say as a stranger wants to buy her boat, and no questions asked. She is just to show where the boat is hidden, and you are to pay for it and take it away when you want it.”

  “That would be a very good plan,” Vincent said, “if you wouldn’t mind the trouble.”

  “The trouble is nothing,” she said. “Johnson’s place ain’t above a mile along the shore.”

  “I will go with you until you get close to the house,” Vincent said; “then, when you hear what she wants for the boat, I will give you the money for it, and you can show me where it is hidden.”

  This was accordingly done. Mrs. Johnson, after a considerable amount of bargaining with Vincent’s guide, agreed to take twenty dollars for the boat, and upon receiving the money sent down one of her boys with her to show her where it was hidden. It was in a hole that had been scooped out in the steep bank some ten foot above the water’s edge, and was completely hidden from the sight of any one rowing past by a small clump of bushes. When the boys had returned to the farmhouse the woman took Vincent to the spot, and they then went back together.

  Here he and Tony had a long talk as to whether it would be better to put out at once or to wait till nightfall. It was finally determined that it was best to make an immediate start. A boat rowed by two men would attract little attention. It might belong to any of the ships at anchor in the river, and might be supposed to have gone on shore to fetch eggs or chickens, or with a letter or a message.

  “You see, both shores are in the hands of the Yankees,” Vincent said, “and there will not be any suspicion of a boat in the daytime. At night we might be hailed, and if we gave no answer fired upon, and that night bring a gunboat along to see what was the matter. No, I think it will be far best to go on boldly. There are not likely to be any bodies of Federal troops on the opposite shore except at Fortress Monroe, and perhaps opposite the point where they have got their landing below Petersburg. Once ashore we shall be safe. The peninsula opposite is covered with forest and swamp, and we shall have no difficulty in getting through however many troops they may have across it. You know the place pretty well, don’t you, Tony?”

  Tony nodded. “Once across, sah, all de Yank army wouldn’t catch us. Me know ob lots ob hiding-places.”

  “Them broad hats will never do,” the woman said; “but I have got some blue nightcaps I knitted for my husband. They are something like the caps I have seen some sailors wear; anyhow, they will pass at a distance, and when you take your coats and vests off, them colored flannel shirts will be just the right thing.”

  “That will do capitally, and the sooner we are off the better,” Vincent said, and after heartily thanking the two women, and bestowing a present upon each of the children, they started along the shore.

  The boat was soon got into the water, the oars put out, and they started. The tide was just low now, and they agreed to pull along at a short distance from the shore until it turned. As soon as it did so the vessels at anchor would be getting up sail to make up to the landing-place, and even had any one on board noticed the boat put out, and had been watching it, they would have other things to think about.

  “It is some time since we last rowed in a boat together, Tony.”

  “About three years, sah; dat time when you got me safe away. I had a bad fright dat day you left me, sah. It came on to blow bery hard, and some ob de men told me dat dey did not tink you would ever get back to shore. Dat made me awful bad, sah; and me wish ober and ober again dat me hab died in de forest instead ob your taking me off in a boat and trowing away your life. I neber felt happy again, sah, till I got your letter up in Canady, and knew you had got back safe dat day.”

  “We had a narrow squeak of it, Tony, and were blown some distance up. We were nearly swamped a score of times, and Dan quite made up his mind that it was all up with us. However, we got through safe, and I don’t think a soul, except perhaps Jackson and that rascally overseer of ours, who afterward had a hand in carrying off your wife, and lost his life in consequence, ever had a suspicion we had been doing more than a long fishing expedition. I will tell you all about it when we are going through the woods. Now I think it’s pretty nearly dead water, and we will begin to edge across.”

  CHAPTER XX

  THE END OF THE STRUGGLE

  Vincent directed his course so that while the boat’s head was still pointing up the stream, and she was apparently moving in the same direction as the ships, she was gradually getting out to the middle of the river. Had he tried to row straight across suspicion might at once have been excited. In half an hour they were in the middle of the stream. A vessel passing under full sail swept along at a distance of a hundred yards, and they were hailed. Vincent merely waved his hand and continued his course.

  “I dare say those fellows wonder what we are up to, Tony; but they are not likely to stop to inquire. In another quarter of an hour we shall be pretty safe. Ah! there’s a fellow who might interfere with us,” he added looking round. “Do you see that little black thing two miles ahead of us? that’s a steam launch. If she sees us making over she’s likely enough to come and ask us some questions. We had better head a little more toward the shore now. If it comes to a race every foot is of importance.”

  Up to now they had been rowing in an easy and leisurely manner, avoiding all appearance of haste. They now bent to their oars, and the boat began to travel a good deal faster through the water. Vincent glanced over his shoulder frequently at the steam launch.

  “She is keeping straight on in the middle of the channel, Tony; evidently she hasn’t noticed us yet.”

  Ten minutes after passing the ship he exclaimed sharply:

  “Row, Tony, as hard as you can; the launch has just passed that ship, and has changed her course. I expect the captain has called their attention to us. It’s a race now.”

  The boat, at the moment the launch changed her course, was rather more than halfway between the center of the channel and the shore. The launch was in the center of the channel, and three-quarters of a mile higher up. She had evidently put on steam as she started to cut off the boat, for there was now a white wave at her bow.

  “I think we shall do it, Tony,” Vincent said. “I don’t suppose she can go above eight miles an hour and we are certainly going four, and she has more than twice as far to travel as we have.”

  Those on board the launch were evidently conscious that they were likely to lose the race, for in a few minutes they began to open fire with their rifles.

  “Fire away,” Vincent said. “You ain’t likely to hit us a thousand yards off, and we haven’t another three hundred to row.”

  The bullets whistled overhead, but none of them struck the water within many yards of the boat, and the launch was still four or five hundred yards away when the bow of the boat touched the shore. Several muskets were discharged as Vincent and Tony leaped out and plunged into the bushes that came down to the water’s edge. The launch sent up a sharp series of whistles, and random shots were for some time fired into the bushes.

  “It is lucky she didn’t carry a small gun in her bow,” Vincent said; “for though seven or eight hundred yards is a long range for a rifle, they might likely enough have hit us if they had had a gun. Now, Tony, we shall have to be careful, for those whistles are no doubt meant as an alarm; and although she cannot tell who we
are, she will probably steam up, and if they have any force opposite Bermuda will give them news that two suspicious characters have landed, and they will have parties out to look for us.”

  “Dey can look as long as dey like, sah. Ef dose slave-hunters can’t find people in de swamps what chance you tink dose soldiers have? None at all. Dey haven’t got no reward before dere eyes, and dey won’t want to be going in ober dere shoes into de mud and dirtying dere uniforms. No fear ob dem, sah. Dey make as much noise when dey march in de wood as a drove ob pigs. You can hear dem a quarter ob a mile away.”

  They tramped on through the woods through which McClellan’s force had so painfully made their way during their first advance against Richmond. From time to time they could hear noises in the forest—shouts, and once or twice the discharge of firearms.

  “Dey call dat hunting, I s’pose,” Tony said scornfully.

  They kept steadily on until it began to grow dark in the forest. They were now in the White Oak Swamp and not eight miles from Richmond, and they thought it better to pause until it became quite dark, for they might be picked up by any raiding party of cavalry. Vincent was in high spirits. Now, that he had succeeded in his enterprise, and had escaped almost by a miracle, he was eager to get back to Richmond and carry his news down to General Lee. Tony was even more anxious to push on. At last, after three years’ absence, he was to see his wife and child again, and he reluctantly agreed to Vincent’s proposal for a halt.

  “We sha’n’t stop very long, Tony; and I own I am waiting quite as much because I am hungry and want to eat, and because I am desperately tired, as from any fear of the enemy. We walked twenty miles last night from Union Grove to the river, then I walked to the boat, back to the farm and then back to the boat again—that’s three more miles—and we have gone another twenty now. I am pretty nearly dead beat, I can tell you.”