"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."