Marcy, the Refugee

by Harry Castlemon

"The men started on a run for the house the minute that black villain yelled," replied Hanson; for he was the one who came to Beardsley's assistance. "Shelby is round on the other side watching the back door, and he sent me to see what the fursing was about. Now I'll go back and tell him."

"And be sure that you and him keep out of sight when Marcy is brought out," cautioned Beardsley. "You don't want to let him get a sight at ary one of you, for there's no telling when he will have the power on his own side."

The overseer hastened away, trusting more to the darkness than to the bushes in the yard to conceal him from Mrs. Gray's view and Marcy's, should either of them chance to look out at the window, and the captain moved a few steps nearer to the carriage-way, so that he could look at the house through the branches of an evergreen. When he first peeped out the front windows were all dark; but presently lights began to appear here and there, heavy steps and loud angry voices were heard in the house, and finally the front door opened, and a man, carrying a lighted lamp in his hand, came out and walked the whole length of it. Captain Beardsley was surprised, and he felt uncomfortable, too. If the boy of whom they were in search was in the house he ought to have been discovered before this time; and if he had escaped, where could he have gone unless it was to Plymouth or to the Union men who were hidden in the swamp? If he had gone to either place Captain Beardsley knew it meant the loss of more buildings to him and Colonel Shelby.

"And if he's went off it is bekase some traitor or 'nother in our company told him he'd better," soliloquized Beardsley, when he saw the lights shining from the windows of the upper rooms. "Julius, come here. I want to ask you something."

The black boy had by this time recovered his breath and strength enough to sit up. He had all his wits about him, and was as much interested in what was going on in the house as Captain Beardsley himself. He saw the lights ascend from the lower rooms to those in the second story, and finally he saw them in the garret and in the observatory on the roof; and when no shout of triumph, or any sound to indicate that there was a disturbance in the house, came to his ears to tell him that his master had been traced to his hiding-place and captured, the wild hope seized upon him that Marcy, in some mysterious manner, had succeeded in eluding the Home Guards. If that was the case he would of course make the best of his way to the boat; and if he got there before Julius did he would shove off alone, and Julius would be left behind to labor under the lash of the overseer. He thought he would rather die than do that, but how could he escape from Beardsley and reach the creek in time to meet Marcy there? When he heard the captain calling to him he got upon his feet and approached the carriage-way, just as Beardsley bent his head almost to the ground, to watch a light that was shining from one of the cellar windows. He held that position for a moment, and then a roar like that of a thousand Niagaras rang in his ears and all was blank to him. He sank limp and motionless to the ground, while Julius took to his heels and disappeared through the gate. Half an hour later, when the Home Guards came out of the house without finding Marcy Gray or anything that could be used as evidence against him, they were astounded and greatly alarmed to find Captain Beardsley lying unconscious in the carriageway.

And where was Marcy all this time! When the black boy's first note of warning fell upon his ear he was imprinting a farewell kiss upon his mother's lips and giving her a last embrace; but they fell apart instantly when they heard that wild cry, for they knew what it meant.

"There they are!" gasped Mrs. Gray. "Marcy, I am afraid I have detained you too long."

"You have not kept me a moment," said Marcy quickly, "for I was no more anxious to go than you were to have me. Keep them in the house as long as you can, and I will go into the cellar and try to slip through one of the windows into the garden. Poor Julius will be broken-hearted when he finds that I went without him. Once more good-by, and don't expect to see me under a week."

[Illustration: JULIUS GIVES THE ALARM.]

Pressing as the need for haste was, Marcy snatched another farewell kiss and ran out of the room, taking care not to pass between a window and a lamp that stood on the centre-table. He caught his cap from the rack as he hurried through the hall, and in less time than it takes to tell it, was standing before an open cellar window, waiting and listening. His ears told him when the Home Guards charged upon the house and entered it through the back and side doors, and believing that the sentries, if there had been any posted outside, would be wholly engrossed with what was going on in the dwelling, he seized upon that particular moment to make his attempt at escape. Slowly and carefully he crawled up into the window, and when he raised his head above the ground all he could see were bushes and trees and a starlit sky, and all he could hear was the murmur of voices in the sitting-room. If the doors were guarded, as it was reasonable to suppose they were, this particular cellar window was not, and Marcy made haste to crawl out of it and across an intervening flower-bed to the friendly shelter of a thicket of bushes beyond. He did not linger there an instant, but taking it for granted that Ben Hawkins was with the Home Guards, and remembering that the man had promised to see that they behaved themselves while they were in his mother's house, he started at once for the creek, crawling on his hands and knees until he was sure he had passed beyond the sentries that he thought ought to have been left in the yard, and then he sprang up and ran like a deer. He hardly knew when he reached the fence, over which he went as easily as though he had been furnished with wings, but he knew when he halted on the bank of the creek and caught Julius in the act of shoving off with the boat. Thinking only of Captain Beardsley and the overseer and his whip, the frightened black boy could not be prevailed upon to stop until he had pushed the boat to the middle of the stream, where he felt comparatively safe; and then he looked over his shoulder to see who his pursuer was.