“I’ve been parolled,” said he, “me and all the fellers you see with me. We promised, honor bright, that we wouldn’t never take up arms agin the United States, and we’ve kept that promise. So what makes you snatch us away from our peaceful homes and firesides, and bring us here to shut us up, when we aint never done the least thing?”
“But all the same you belong to the Home Guards who were organized for the purpose of persecuting Union people,” said the colonel.
“Never heered of no Home Guards,” replied Beardsley, looking astonished. “There aint no such things in our country, is there, boys?”
Of course Beardsley’s companions bore willing testimony to the truth of the statement, and when he and Shelby boldly declared that they would prove their sincerity by taking the oath then and there, if the colonel would administer it to them, it settled the matter so far as they were concerned. Their companions were willing to follow their example rather than suffer themselves to be sent to a Northern prison, and the result was that in less than forty-eight hours after Marcy Gray received the gratifying intelligence that he had seen the last of Beardsley and Shelby, for a while at least, they were at home again and eager to take vengeance on the boy whom they blamed more than anyone else for their short captivity.
“How did the Yankees get onto our trail so easy, and know all about that Home Guard business, if Marcy Gray didn’t tell ’em?” said Beardsley, when he and his friends found themselves safe outside the trenches at Plymouth and well on their way homeward. “When Marcy made a pris’ner of his mother’s overseer and took him among the Yankees he give ’em our names, told ’em where we lived and all about it; and I say he shan’t stay in the settlement no longer. I’ll land him in Williamston jail before I am two days older; and when he gets there he won’t come back in a hurry. I’ll see if I can’t have him sent to some regiment down on the Gulf coast; then, if he runs away, as he is likely to do the first chance he sees, he can’t get home.”
“Be you goin’ to keep that oath, cap’n?” inquired one of Beardsley’s companions.
“Listen at the fule! Course I’m going to keep it. I didn’t promise nothin’ but that I wouldn’t never bear arms agin the Yankee government, nor lend aid and comfort to its enemies, without any mental observation, did I? What do you reckon that means, Shelby?”
“Mental reservation,” corrected Colonel Shelby, who did not like to be addressed with so much familiarity. “It means that you did not swear to one thing while you were thinking about another.”
“Then I took the oath honest, ’cause I wasn’t thinkin’ about Marcy Gray at all while the colonel was readin’ it to me; but I am thinkin’ of him now. I didn’t promise that I wouldn’t square yards with him for settin’ the Yanks onto me, and I’ll perceed to do it before I sleep sound.”
Beardsley was as good as his word, or tried to be; but it took him longer than two days to land Marcy Gray in Williamston jail. He laid a good many plans to capture him, but somehow they were put into operation just too late to be successful. And what exasperated Beardsley and Shelby almost beyond endurance, and drove Tom Allison and Mark Goodwin almost frantic, was the fact that Marcy did not keep himself in hiding as closely as he used to do. He rode to Nashville whenever he felt like it, and went in and out of the post-office as boldly as he ever did; but he was always accompanied by Ben Hawkins and three or four other parolled rebels, and no one dared lay a hand on him. Ben Hawkins, you will remember, was the man who created something of a sensation by making a defiant speech in the post-office shortly after he had been released on parole by General Burnside. He declared that he had had all the fighting he wanted and did not intend to go back to the army; and when that blatant young rebel Tom Allison, who had never shouldered a musket and did not mean to, so far forgot his prudence as to call Hawkins a coward, the latter flew into a rage and threatened to “twist” Tom’s neck for him.