"Where did you hear all this?"
"Marse Beardsley's niggah gal, Nancy, was dar, and heared and seen it all wid her own eyes and ears," replied Morris. "She met me on de road when I was coming home wid de mule and de mail, and done told me. Is dat a fac' 'bout de money, Marse Marcy?"
The boy did not in the least doubt the truthfulness of the story. He knew that the girl Nancy looked out for Mrs. Brown's comfort in a shiftless sort of way; that long association with the old gossip had made her a tolerable gossip herself; and that, although she was often sent to the overseer on account of it, she kept on talking just the same. Besides, Nancy could not have known about the money unless she had heard somebody speak of it. And Mark Goodwin was sure it was concealed in the cellar wall! That was the worst piece of news Marcy Gray had ever listened to. He stood for some minutes looking down at the ground in deep study, and then he seized the black man's arm and drew him closer to him. He gave him some rapid whispered instructions, old Morris now and then nodding, as if to show that he understood them perfectly, and then they shook hands, as two brothers might have done, and separated.
At daylight the next morning there was not a single able-bodied black man to be seen on Mrs. Gray's plantation, if we except the few who found employment about the house, the working party having left hours before. Marcy saw them from his window as they marched out of the gate with their bundles on their backs, but he did not go down to speak to them. He had taken leave of them once, and had no desire to go through the same ordeal again. He rode into Nashville that morning, as he did every other morning for the next two weeks, but the only news he heard related to the fortifications at Roanoke Island, which grew in size and strength every day, and were to be held at all hazards. He thought it strange that he did not see Aleck Webster, but, of course, he dared not ask after him. He saw Allison, and Goodwin, and others of that stamp, who went out of their way to profess friendship for him; but Marcy never lingered long in their company until one day when they followed him to the hitching-rack, after he had secured his mail, to warn him that he had better have an eye on that man Kelsey, who meant harm to him.
"What does he think he has against me?" was the first question Marcy asked. "Doesn't he want me to feed him any more?"
"He doesn't want grub so much as he wants work," replied Goodwin. "And you wouldn't hire him to take Hanson's place."
"Hadn't we a right to say who shall work for us and who shall not?" demanded Marcy. "But we don't need anybody. I am going to act as my mother's overseer; that is, if I ever have any hands to oversee."
"But Kelsey doesn't like to be called a lazy, trifling hound; and you wouldn't like it either," said Allison.
"I never called him that. I simply said that I would let the fields grow up to briars before I would have him on the place, and I say so yet. Let him enlist, if he wants something to do."
"But he can't enlist. The doctors wouldn't pass him."