“No, sir!” said the old man, proudly, “I don’t want nothin’ for taking keer of Mistis and Miss C’lotta; ‘sides, that ain’t no ‘count ‘mongst dem blue coat debbels in Goldsboro’.”
“When did you leave home?” asked Ben, as I put back my currency, rather crestfallen at Horace’s very sensible reason for refusing it.
“Yistiddy mornin’. I been in camp all to-day trying to find you and Marse John, but dere’s so many solgers comin’ and gwine I was in a pyo maze like.”
“Horace, tell me all those scoundrels did,” I said, reading over the letter again. “Don’t leave out anything.”
“Well, you see, Marse John,” he said, taking off his hat and laying it on the ground, while he wiped his forehead with a very dingy red handkerchief, “we hears de Yankees is comin’ up from Newb’n, and Mistis axes me to hide de silver things, an’ I like a fool gets Reuben to help me, ‘cause Reuben swears he love Mistis better’n all de Yankees in de world. That’s how come de silver gone, in the fust place. Den we hears they is in Goldsboro’, and next morning, by sun up, a whole squad comes gallopin’ up to the house, and bust de crib door open, and gets out de corn. I was standin’ by, and says: ‘Dere ain’t much corn dere, ‘cause Wheeler’s folks got some yistiddy;’ and they say, ‘What Wheeler’s folks?’ skeered like. I say: ‘Some folks on horses that come from todes Fa’teville, and stopped all night down in dem woods yonder.’ Den dey jumped on dere horses ‘thout puttin’ ary foot in de stirrup, an’ lumbers down de road ‘thout techin de corn.”
“But tell me about the house, Horace,” I exclaimed impatiently. “I don’t care about the crib and Wheeler’s men.”
“I’m a gittin to it, Marse John. You see mistis was poorly, and was stayin’ in bed, and every one de niggers lef’, an’ I had to cook, and tote water, an’ do every thing ‘bout de house; an’ that day, ‘bout dinner time, I see a dozen blue coats come dustin’ down de road. An’ ‘fore I c’d git to de house dey done kicked de door open, and was all over de rooms; and de first man I see was Frank Paning, and he had on a blue newniform, too. He knowed me, and looked sorter mean, but put on like he never been dere b’fore. They was all rippin’ and cussin’ all over de house, and Miss C’lotta she come and stood in mistis’ room door, and her eyes was like coals er fire; but they never noticed her, only Paning say ‘gim me de keys, my beauty!’”
“The villain!” I muttered, grinding my nails into my flesh.
“At last one on ’em foun’ de key basket, and den dey begun in earness. They took out all dere was to eat in de pantry, and drunk up and spilt all de wine; they eat some of the preserves, and bust the glass jars on de floor; they kicked open de ole clock, and split the pianner led wid one er de weights. Then dey swore they was gwine to have some silver an’ gold, or burn up de house; and they went into mistis’ room, where she was sick in de bed, and cussed her, and asked her where de silver was. Mistis, nor Miss C’lotta neither, never said a word, an’ one great big fellow, with cross eyes, come up to de bed and say: ‘Look here, ole gal! that won’t do; you got to hustle out er them bed close; you’s silver sick, I reckon.’ And mistis sees Frank Paning then, and says: ‘Mr. Paning, for de sake of de pass pertect me!’ an’ Paning says, ‘I don’t know you; git up!’ and two on ’em ketches mistis by de arm and jerks her outen de bed on de floor, and mistis faints like, while Miss C’lotta holds her head in her arms and cries. De Yankees rips up de bed and scatters de feathers all over de room, and when they find nothin’, one on ’em say, ‘Less leave; and Paning steps up to Miss C’lotta and says: ‘Ef I can’t git silver I’ll take a kiss,’ and smacks her right on de cheek; and then Miss C’lotta was mad for true. She jumped up quicker’n lightning and jerks a little bit er blue pistol outen her pocket, an’ ‘fore Paning could git away bang! went de little pistol, and Paning clap’d his hand to his shoulder and says, ‘Damnation! the fool has shot me,’ an’ he pulls out his sode and starts todes her, and Miss C’lotta was a standin’ lookin’ straight at him with de little pistol levelled; and a tall man, that hadn’t said much, kotch Paning by de arm, and say, ‘That’s a woman; let her ‘lone,’ and den dey all leaves. Then Miss C’lotta told me to run and fetch some water, and when I fotch the piggin I seed that de house was on fire, and de room was a fillin’ with smoke. Miss C’lotta tuk some shawls and ropped mistis up, and tole me to help tote her out, for de fire was all over de house. And then we starts out, mistis tryin’ to walk, an’ little Johnny a holden on to Miss C’lotta and cryin’, and jus’ as we gits to de front door a piece of scantlin’ fell outen de top of de porch and hits mistis plump on de head, and she fell——.”
“Hush, Horace, for the love of God, hush!” I groaned, as I staggered to my cot in the corner. “Do not tell me any more. Try to make your way back to Mr. Bemby’s, and tell Carlotta we are going to make the attempt to get to her. Ben, give him something to eat, please, and make your arrangements for our trip.”