"No, how could he?" answered Zed; "for they did not come up till he was gone. They saw him, I guess, and scattered to keep out of his way. But he came first, that's certain. I can't tell quite sure where he went, for I did not see him go; but he could not have been gone long before you came up." The man's words gave me great comfort; for it seemed certainly more than probable, that if he pursued the course Zed mentioned, he must have found Bessy and old Jenny where I had left them, and taken them away under his escort; although I could not understand how the former happened to have quitted the place without leaving something to indicate what had occurred. She knew--she could not but know--the deep anxiety I should feel; and Bessy Davenport's was not a heart, I thought, to look upon that anxiety lightly. However, still I was comforted. Hope and expectation revived; and as soon as we got upon the high road, I pushed my horse on rapidly towards Jerusalem. He went very slow, it seemed to me; and indeed he was not the very best-blooded animal that ever was mounted. But at length we came to a spot where the town was first visible in the daylight; and there Zed, who knew the whole country well, checked his horse, exclaiming--
"Gorra mighty, master! they have set the town a-fire." At first sight, it seemed so; for up above the little town, rose upon the sky a bright red glare which could be produced by no ordinary cause. I checked my horse, too, and contemplated the blaze for a moment or so; but I remarked that the glare was steadfast, not rising and falling, nor spreading from place to place; and that though some flicker and some rolls of smoke were visible, yet there was none of that rapid change or those thick curling clouds which always hang over a considerable conflagration. In fact, it was more like the glare which hangs over a large and well-lighted city, than that of a fire.
"We will go on, Zed, and see," I said; "I can't tell what this blaze is; the town is certainly not on fire."
"Very well, master," said Zed, without the slightest hesitation; and on we pushed at the same rate as before. As we came to the first houses of the little town, we could hear the loud murmur of many voices, proceeding from the central part of the place; and, riding on, we came upon a very strange and even picturesque scene. I have before described, I think, the little market-place of the town, which the good people of the country have thought fit to call Jerusalem, upon what grounds or pretences it is impossible to discover; for certainly neither in architecture nor construction, nor natural site, does it bear the slightest resemblance to the capital of the kingdom of Judah. However, when the Mount Ida of this country is a hillock, not much bigger than a man's knuckles, and Syracuse is completely an inland town, it becomes clear that the people had very little reference to the Old World in the names they have bestowed in the New. On one side of the square stood the inn, a wooden building of no great extent, with what is called the liberty-pole right in front. When I had been there before, the bright, burning sun had shone distinctly on the groups of farmers and gentlemen coming from the country on business, with their waggons, horses, and dogs. A different light now presented the place under a different aspect. A fire of pitch-pine logs was burning in the middle of the little space, at the distance of perhaps sixty yards from the inn; and close to the building itself were a number of torches, some in the hands of mulattoes or negroes, some fixed to stakes set in the ground, to posts, to rails, or anything to which they could be attached. By the red glare of the fire and of these torches could be seen the fronts of the various houses round; the windows crowded with faces, principally of women, in every sort of dress and undress; and numerous groups of men, scattered over the space below, all armed, many on horseback, talking, laughing, gesticulating, and, in some instances, swearing. In front of the right wing of the inn was a little body of cavalry, not very regularly drawn up in line, nor was every man upon his horse; but there they were about thirty or forty, stout, tall, powerful fellows, who would have put all the insurgents who had ever yet been mustered in Virginia to the rout in a minute. A group of officers, intermingled with a dozen or so of gentlemen, amongst whom I recognized my long-boned friend the sheriff, stood immediately before the door of the inn, all in vehement and eager discussion; while just above their heads was a sort of balcony, running along the whole front of the inn, crowded with ladies, some sitting and some standing. Tremendous was the confusion, great the noise, and terrible the glare; and every now and then a fresh movement and different arrangement of parties took place when a horseman or two would ride in, from this side or that; and from each of the groups several persons would detach themselves, and ride up to inquire what intelligence the new-comers brought. I myself was thus assailed as soon as I entered the marketplace.
"Which side do you come from, sir?" asked one.
"Have you seen anything of the niggers?" interrogated another.
"Did you see anything of Captain Jones's party?" demanded a third.
"Has any fresh house been attacked?" cried a fourth.
"One at a time, gentlemen, one at a time," I replied, "and I will answer you. Then you shall give me an answer to one question. I come from this side of Dr. Blunt's house. I have seen plenty of the negroes--all, I fancy, which they have in the field. I did not meet with Captain Jones's party; and the last house the negroes attacked, or will attack, I imagine, was Dr. Blunt's. And now, if you please----"
"What came of it? what came of it?" cried half a dozen voices, before I could propound my own question.