True To His Colors

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER XVI.

  SECRET ENEMIES.

  "It's done and it can't be undone," said Marcy, after he had told hismother just what passed between him and the captain of the privateer. "Iassured Mr. Beardsley that I didn't think the government would hang hismen as pirates if they were taken on the high seas, but since I haveseen a couple of them I have my doubts. If the ship-keepers are fairspecimens of the crew, they are a hard lot, and I don't want to becaptured in such company. This is being true to my colors with avengeance."

  That was what his mother thought, but she did not say a word to add tothe bitterness of his feelings. Knowing the temper of the people aroundher as well as she did, she could not see that Marcy could have doneanything else. Marcy Gray ate little supper that night, and as soon asit began to grow dark, he left the house and went out on the road totake a stroll. He wanted to be alone, even though the thoughts thatcrowded thick and fast upon him were anything but pleasant company.Almost without knowing it he kept on until he arrived within sight ofthe gate leading to Mr. Beardsley's yard, and saw three men standingclose inside of it. The night was so dark he could not see who theywere, and without giving the circumstance a second thought, he was aboutto retrace his steps, when the men moved into the road, and two of themmade a few steps in his direction, but turned suddenly about as iflistening to some parting instructions from the one they had leftbehind. Marcy waited to see no more, but walked rapidly homeward,unconscious of the fact that the men followed a little distance in hisrear, although they did not see him. When he reached the carriage-wayMarcy did not immediately go to the house, but paced up and down theroad in a brown study, from which he was presently aroused by the soundof footsteps. A few seconds later a figure loomed up in the darkness,and Marcy thought he recognized in it one of the men he had seen onboard the schooner that afternoon. The figure discovered him at the samemoment, halted abruptly, and said in cautious tones, as if fearful ofbeing overheard:

  "Who's there?"

  "It's no one who will hurt you," was the boy's reply. "Toddle rightalong about your business."

  "Any dogs laying around?"

  "Nary dog. I'm alone."

  These answers must have satisfied the man, for he advanced withoutfurther hesitation, and peered sharply into Marcy's face.

  "What you doing out here?" he asked, as though he had a right to know;and then Marcy saw that he had not been mistaken. The man was one of theship-keepers.

  "What's that to you, and who are you?" he replied, with spirit.

  "I don't mean any offense--I don't really," said the man hastily. "Butit is rather strange that I should find you so easy when you are thevery one I was looking for. I didn't know whether it would be safe tocome or not, for you have dogs in plenty, like all the rest of theplanters about here. I am Sam Tierney, and I belong to Beardsley'sprivateer. You are Marcy Gray, and have been engaged to take theschooner through out-of-the-way inlets that the old man is notacquainted with. Let's go down the road a piece. I'd like to talk to youa minute, if you don't care."

  "Why can't you say what you have to say right where you stand?" inquiredMarcy. "There's no one to overhear you if your communication isprivate."

  "Private? Well, you'll think so when you hear what it is. Come down theroad."

  It was right on the end of the boy's tongue to ask the man why he hadcome to see him so soon after holding that conversation at Mr.Beardsley's gate, and what he had done with his companion; but, onreflection, he decided that he would not say a word on these points.This might be an opportunity to learn something, he told himself, butthere was one thing of which he was sure: he would not trust himselfwithin reach of that missing ship-keeper, who might be hidden somewheredown the road, ready to pounce upon him the moment this man Tierneybrought him to the ambush. He would remain right where he was, withinearshot of the faithful Bose, who would be likely to make things livelyfor the privateersman if he attempted any violence. There was somethingin the wind, the boy was sure of that; but he could not, for the life ofhim, think what it could be.

  "I don't care to go down the road," said he. "What objection can youhave to this place? We can see in every direction, and there are nobushes behind which an eavesdropper could hide himself."

  It was plain that Tierney was not satisfied with this arrangement. Hewalked about with his hands in his pockets, kicked a pebble or two outof his way, and finally wanted to know if Marcy would promise, honorbright, that he would not repeat a word of what might be said to him.

  "No; I'll not make any such promise," Marcy answered promptly. "And youwould be foolish to put any faith in it if I did. I don't want you totell me anything confidentially, for I must be left free to do as Ithink best about repeating it."

  The ship-keeper was plainly surprised at this answer, for he gaveutterance to a heavy oath under his breath and kicked some more pebblesout of the road. Marcy waited patiently for him to speak, for he waspositive that the man had come there with something on his mind, andthat he would not go away until he had told what it was.

  "You're mighty suspicious," said he, at length, "and I don't know butyou have reason to be. You are a Union man."

  "Who told you that?" exclaimed Marcy, somewhat startled.

  "A little bird whispered it to me."

  "Well, the next time you see that little bird tell him to mind his ownbusiness. My political views are nothing to him or you either."

  "I wouldn't get huffy. The old man says--" began Tierney, and then hestopped and caught his breath.

  "Aha! The old man says so, does he?" thought Marcy. "And he tells hisforemast hands what he thinks about his neighbors, does he? I must becautious. Well, go on; what does the old man say?"

  "He says he has engaged you to act as pilot," replied the man, with someconfusion.

  "So he has; and if he chooses to trust his vessel in my hands inchannels and inlets that he knows nothing about, what have you to say?He wouldn't do it if he did not think I would serve him to the best ofmy ability, would he? But what has my politics to do with the position Ihold aboard that privateer?"

  "Nothing much," answered Tierney, turning away. "But they have a gooddeal to do with the proposition I was going to make to you if I hadfound you to be the good Union I heard you were."

  Now Marcy thought he began to see daylight, but he said not a word.Tierney acted as though he was about to go away, but the boy knew hewouldn't.

  "I'm a Union man," said he.

  "That's nothing to me, but if you are, I don't see why you stay abouthere. You've no friends in this State to speak of. Go up to the UnitedStates."

  The ship-keeper was evidently waiting for Marcy to ask him about theproposition to which he had referred a moment before, but he waited invain. It was no part of Marcy's plan to draw the conversation back intothat channel. Tierney saw that he must take the initiative himself, andhe did it very abruptly.

  "Look here, pilot," said he. "There's no use in your mincing matterswith me in this way. Just a moment," he added, seeing that the boyraised his hand as if he were about to speak. "I am a Union man allover, my pardner is another, and you are another. I know it as well as Iknow anything, and the old man knows it--I mean, he as good as said hehad heard of it, too."

  "Well, what of it?" inquired Marcy. "What did he hire me for, when heknows that it is in my power to run his schooner hard and fast agroundif a ship of war gets after us?"

  "But he doesn't quite believe all he has heard, and he's willing to giveyou a chance to prove that you are true blue," said Tierney, with anawkward attempt to undo the mischief he had done by talking toorapidly.

  "I am true blue," replied Marcy, "although I confess that my actionsjust about this time do not show it," he added, to himself. "As long asI remain aboard that schooner I shall do my duty the best I know how."

  "And will you take her out of harm's way if a ship of war heaves insight?"

  "I will if I can."

  "Then it isn't of an
y use for me to say more, I suppose?"

  "Not the slightest; that is, if you mean to propose that I shall joinyou in seizing the vessel for the purpose of giving her up to one ofUncle Sam's ships."

  "I never said so," exclaimed Tierney. "I never said one single, solitaryword that could lead you to think I meant any such thing."

  "I haven't hinted that you did; but all the same that is the propositionyou came here to make me. I can see through a ladder as well as youcan."

  "Well, I don't see that it's any good to beat about the bush," said theship-keeper frankly. "That's just what I came here for. We could get areward for turning the schooner over, and you could run her up as far asFortress Monroe, couldn't you?"

  "I might do it on a pinch, but I won't."

  "We'll have men enough to take her without the least trouble," urgedTierney.

  "I hope you'll not try it, but if you do, you will find me close byCaptain Beardsley's side."

  "Will you fight?"

  "I'll fight till I drop before I will go near the Yankees with the crewof that privateer. They would take one look at us, and then go to workand hang the whole lot."

  "Why, didn't you tell the old man that they wouldn't?" exclaimedTierney; and if Marcy could have had a view of his face, he would haveseen that the ship-keeper was both astonished and frightened. "You musthave changed your mind."

  He certainly had, but did not feel called upon to explain why he haddone so. His idea was that the faces of the schooner's crew, if Tierneyand his companion ship-keeper were to be taken as specimens, would bequite enough to condemn them, and that the United States authoritieswould be justified in putting it out of their power to do mischief.

  "I'll not have any hand in the mutiny, but will do my best to quell itif it breaks out," Marcy declared, with emphasis. "You've had your walkfor nothing."

  "So that's the end of _that_ hope," said Tierney, looking down at theground and trying to act as though he was very much disheartened. "Youwon't repeat what has passed between us, of course?"

  "Of course I will. I'll go to Mr. Beardsley with it the first thing inthe morning."

  "What's that you say?" Tierney almost shouted. "Take back those words orI'll--"

  He made a step forward and raised his hands as if he were about tospring at Marcy. His actions were certainly threatening, and the boybelieving that he might commit an assault just to keep up appearances,thought it best to summon a friend upon whose loyalty he could alwaysrely. A single shrill whistle arose upon the air, an answering bark camefrom the direction of the house, and Bose came bounding up to see whatwas the matter. Tierney recoiled.

  "He'll not say a spiteful word to you if you let me alone," Marcyassured him. "You see now why I did not care to go down the road. Youhave nothing to fear from me, but I shall tell Captain Beardsley allabout this interview as soon as I can find him. And that is just what Iam expected to do," he added, to himself, as the ship-keeper turnedaround and hurried away. "That fellow isn't half as good a Union man asBose is. Beardsley sent him here to test me, and I saw it almost fromthe beginning. If I don't report the matter, Beardsley will have hissuspicions confirmed, and then he will set something else on footagainst me. Oh, I'm a sharp one," laughed Marcy, taking off his cap andpatting his own head, "but I'd give a good deal to know when and how Iam going to get rid of that man. Whatever I do I must look out formother's comfort and peace of mind, and so I will not lisp a word ofthis to her."

  That night Marcy's sleep was disturbed by all sorts of bad dreams,during which he was constantly detecting Captain Beardsley in some plotto injure him, and when morning came he was not much refreshed. Inaccordance with his usual custom he had his horse brought to the doorimmediately after breakfast, kissed his mother good-by, and set out forNashville to bring the mail; but he stopped on the way to have a talkwith the owner of the privateer. Under almost any other circumstancesMarcy would have thought he was playing a contemptible part; but beingas certain as he wanted to be that Beardsley was trying to get a holdupon him for some purpose of his own, the boy thought himself justifiedin adopting heroic measures for self-defense. The ship-keeper was notthe Union man he pretended to be, and Marcy would tell Beardsley nothingnew when he revealed the plot at which Tierney had hinted the nightbefore. This was what Marcy believed, and the manner in which he wasgreeted by the privateer captain confirmed him in his belief.

  "Have you been over to the schooner this morning?" inquired the boy,when he had hitched his horse and taken possession of the chair that wasbrought out for him. "If you will not think me too inquisitive, I shouldlike to know where you picked up the two men you left in charge ofher."

  "I found them in Newbern, and they were recommended to me, by a party inwhom I have all confidence, as men who could be trusted," replied thecaptain. "What makes you ask the question? Don't you like the looks of'em?"

  "No, I don't, and neither do I like their actions," said the boytruthfully. "Tierney came to see me last night, and tried to induce meto take a walk down the road toward the place where I think hiscompanion was concealed."

  "What did he do that for?" exclaimed the captain, who was so anxious tobe surprised that he could not wait until his visitor reached thesurprising part of his story.

  "He probably wanted a witness to the manner in which I received the plothe intended to propose to me if I had given the chance," answered Marcy,narrowly watching the effect of his words. "But he didn't propose it; Iwill say that much in favor of Tierney. He simply hinted at it, and Itold him I wouldn't have a thing to do with it."

  "Why, the--the--brat!" cried the captain.

  "You wouldn't have thought it of him, would you?"

  "Indeed I wouldn't. I thought he was trustworthy."

  "But you see he isn't. I told him I would tell you all about it and Ihave," continued Marcy, who had told nothing at all; but he had ledCaptain Beardsley on to acknowledge, almost as explicitly as words couldhave done it, that he knew all about Tierney's plan for seizing theschooner. "I think you had better discharge him. I don't want to sailwith a man who is all the while watching for a chance to get me intodifficulty. And then see how he is going square back on the principleshe professes!"

  "I should say he was. I'll discharge him as soon as I can get where theschooner is, and tell him the next time he--But what did he do? What didhe propose to you?"

  "He didn't propose anything, because I didn't give him time. He onlyhinted at it, and I thought it an outrageous piece of villainy."

  "So it was; so it was. But what did he hint at?"

  "Why, seizing the schooner and turning her over to the Yankees. I toldyou all about it."

  "So you did, and I say that hanging is too good for that traitor. Whatwould you do with him if you was me?"

  "Send him up to the United States or put him in jail," replied Marcy. Heknew very well that the captain would do neither one nor the other, butMarcy wanted to get rid of that man. If he would go deliberately to workto get him into trouble, as he had done the night before by hisemployer's advice and consent, he might try it again when Marcy was notso well prepared for him.

  "It scares me to think of it," said the owner of the privateer, who didnot look as though he were very badly alarmed. "Such a thing as takingthe schooner could be done easy enough, and where would you be if it wasattempted?"

  "I should be on the side of the authorities. There's where you willalways find me. I wouldn't fall into the power of the Yankees for tentimes the value of all the prizes that will be captured on this coastduring the war. I should never expect to see home again. I told TierneyI would fight first."

  "I guess you will do to tie to, Marcy," said the captain; and thevisitor told himself that those were the only truthful words he haduttered during the interview. "If all my crew is as loyal as you are,and if all the men in the army stick up for the Stars and Bars as youdo, we'll gain our independence in less'n six months."

  Marcy was not aware he had "stuck up" for the Stars and Bars, but itwould not be safe to set
the captain right, as he would have been gladto do, and besides this was the time to learn something.

  "I don't know where Tierney got his information, but he has heard fromseveral sources that I am for the Union," said he.

  "That's what folks say," replied Beardsley.

  "What have I said or done since I came home to lead them to think so?"

  "Not a word; not a thing. It's what you haven't said and done that makes'em suspicion you. You don't whoop and holler and yell and slosh aroundwith your revolver, like the most of the young chaps do."

  "I am not given to such antics, and these are no times formonkey-shines. We need sober, thoughtful men who will do their best tosteer us safely through the difficulties by which we are surrounded,rather than whooping and yelling young ones who seemed determined towreck us."

  "That's good, sound argument," assented Captain Beardsley, as thevisitor pushed back his chair and went down the steps to unhitch hishorse.

  "But there's one thing I want to tell you," continued Marcy. "I haven'tsigned any papers and consequently I am still a free man; and if youwant me in that schooner worse than you want Tierney, well and good. Ifyou don't, you can keep him and I will stay ashore."

  Marcy had pinned a very slight hope of release right here. He wassatisfied that the owner of the privateer must think a good deal of theman Tierney or he would not have placed so much confidence in him; andhe hoped the captain would decide to keep him and let his pilot go. Fora time it looked as though the hope might be realized, for the captainhesitated and stammered in such a way that there was no doubt left inMarcy's mind that he was loth to give Tierney up; but seeing the boy'seyes fastened upon him with a most searching glance Beardsley arousedhimself to say:

  "Of course; _of_ course."

  "Would you feel safe at sea knowing that you had a traitor among thecrew--one who was waiting and watching for an opportunity to turn youand your vessel over to the Yankees?" continued Marcy.

  "No, I wouldn't," and the words came out quickly and honestly. "Iwouldn't live on a vessel under them conditions."

  "Well, whom are you going to keep--him or me?"

  "You, of course. I couldn't get along without somebody who knows CrookedInlet better than I do. Going to Nashville after your mail? Well, whenyou come back ride round to the schooner and you'll find that Tierneyisn't there."

  "What good will it do to ride around to the schooner?" thought the boy,as he gave his horse the rein and galloped out of the yard. "Of courseTierney wouldn't be there. He would hear me coming through the bushesand have plenty of time to jump ashore and hide himself. A blind manought to see that I did right when I went to Beardsley with my story. Henever asked what the plot was until he committed himself, nor did heinquire how many there were in it, nor did he get half as mad over itas he would if Tierney were a sure-enough Union man. It was a put-upjob, I tell you, and who knows but there may be others of much the samesort hanging over me at this very minute? I do despise secret enemies."

  News travels rapidly when all the people in a place are thinking andtalking about the same things, and Marcy saw the fact illustrated whenhe reached Nashville. The mail and express packages were delayed by anaccident to the wagon in which they were conveyed to and from thenearest stage station; it took two or three hours to repair it, so thatit was mid-day before Marcy was ready to start for home. He alwaysdreaded an enforced delay in town, and tried to time himself so that hewould reach the post-office after everybody else had left it. In thedays gone by he had been on friendly terms with all the Nashville peoplewho were worth knowing, but it was not so now. He was treated civillyenough, but rather coolly, by those he met on the street and in theoffice, and he noticed that few of them took the trouble to speak tohim. This being the case, he wondered what influence had been at work tobring about the change he noticed before he was fairly inside the townlimits. It was "Hello, Marcy!" here, and "How are you, old fellow?"there, and when he hitched his horse and went into the post-office,where there was a crowd assembled, his greeting was as cordial as anythat had ever been extended to him. Marcy opened his eyes, but saidlittle, knowing that if he had the patience to wait somebody wouldexplain the matter to him. He got a clue to the situation when youngAllison, after telling him that the mail wagon had broken down and mightnot be along for an hour or two, inquired:

  "How's your ship, Marcy? I suppose you calculate to sweep the sea ofeverything that carries the Yankee flag, don't you? I shall look forastonishing reports when you get among the war-ships that are coming toblockade the coast."

  Allison was a loud-mouthed young rebel who had made himself particularlyobnoxious to quiet, peace-loving Marcy Gray. He did not say anything toMarcy's face that the latter could resent (he was afraid to do that,notwithstanding the fact that he always carried a loaded revolver in hispocket), but he had said a good many insulting words to others that wereintended for Marcy's benefit. The latter turned upon him like a flash,and said, so that every one in the office heard it:

  "We don't expect to whip the whole Yankee navy, but we shall do the bestwe can, and that's more than you seem inclined to do. You have had agood deal to say concerning the cowards who are stopping at home whenthe South is calling for their services. Why did you not go to the frontyourself long ago, you noisy braggart? Put a uniform on before you speakto me again."

  "Good for you, Marcy," cried a score of voices. "Actions and not frothysentiment are what we want now."

  "Hit him again and I'll help," shouted another; and Marcy's old-timefriend, Wat Gifford, elbowed his way through the crowd. He was in fulluniform, and was the only citizen of Nashville who had snuffed powder atthe bombardment of Fort Sumter. "Talk is cheap, but it takes patriotismto face Yankees."

  If Marcy had had a week in which to consider the matter, he could nothave done a better thing than he did right there on the spur of themoment. Young Allison slunk away abashed, and the privateer's pilotregained at one bound all he had ever lost in the estimation of theNashville people.