There is no use in saying that Marcy did not feel relieved to know that he would have four friends at his back if he got into trouble, because he did. There were three Confederate veterans, and Julius made the fourth friend; but Julius counted, for he had already proved that he was worth something in an emergency. Marcy made no further effort to turn them back, but shook them all warmly by the hand and led the way toward his mother’s plantation. It took them two hours to reach it, for they kept under cover of the woods as long as they could, and followed blind ditches and brush-lined fences when it became necessary for them to cross open fields, and so cautious were they in their movements that when Ben came to a halt behind a rose-bush in full view of the great house, he gave it as his opinion that an owl would not have seen or heard them, if there had been one on the watch.
“An’ although we uns aint seen no rebels, that don’t by no means prove that there aint none around,” added Ben. “Marcy, you stay here, an’ the rest of us will kinder sneak around t’other side the house an’ take a look at things. Julius, you come with me, kase you know the lay of the land an’ I don’t. You two boys go that-a-way; an’ if you run onto anything don’t stop to ask questions, but shoot to kill. It’s a matter of life an’ death with all of we uns, except the nigger.”
Marcy’s friends moved away in different directions, and, when they were out of sight and hearing, he walked around the rose-bush and sat down on the ground so close to the house that he could recognize the servants who passed in and out of the open door, through which a light streamed into the darkness. He longed to call one of them to his hiding-place and send a comforting message to the anxious mother, who he knew was waiting for him in the sitting room, but he was afraid to do it. There wasn’t a negro on the place who could be trusted as far as that. If he tried to attract the notice of one of them, the darky would be sure to shriek out with terror and seek safety in flight, and Marcy did not want to frighten his mother. So he sat still and waited for Ben Hawkins, who, after half an hour’s absence, returned with the gratifying intelligence that the coast was clear, and Marcy could go ahead with his foraging as soon as he pleased.
“If there’s ary reb in this here garding he must be hid in the ground, or else some of we uns would surely have stepped onto him,” said Ben. “Beardsley didn’t look fur you to come to-night, an’ that’s all the proof I want that we uns has got ahead of that traitor of ourn fur once, dog-gone his pictur’.”
“Where are the rest of the boys?” whispered Marcy.
“They’re gardin’ three sides of the house, an’ when you go in I’ll stay here an’ guard the fourth,” answered Ben. “Off you go, now. Crawl up.”
Marcy lingered a moment to shake Ben’s hand, and then arose to his feet and walked toward the house. If Ben’s report was correct there was no need of concealment. He stopped on the way to speak to the darkies in the kitchen, and his sudden appearance at the door threw them into the wildest commotion. They made a simultaneous rush for the rear window, intending to crawl through and take to their heels; but the sound of his familiar voice reassured them. Raising his hand to silence their cries of alarm Marcy said impressively:
“Do you black ones want to see me captured by the rebels? Or do you want to frighten my mother to death? If you don’t, keep still.”
“Moss’ Mahcy,” protested the cook, who was the first to recover from her fright, “dey aint no rebels round hyar. I aint seed none dis whole blessed——”
“For all that there may be some concealed in the garden and ready to jump on me at any moment,” interrupted Marcy. “Now, don’t go to prowling about. If you do you will be frightened again, for I have friends out there in the bushes and you might run upon them in the dark.”