"I'll be along as soon as I can put a few clothes in a valise," said Marcy; whereupon Beardsley said good-by to Mrs. Gray and rode out of the yard.
"What was that man, whose name you mentioned, discharged for?" inquired Mrs. Gray, who knew too well that Marcy was going away under command of a man who would bring harm to him if he could.
"He was discharged because I didn't like his looks," replied the boy. "He told me he was for the Union, but I did not believe a word of it. Now, mother, I need everything I took when I went with Julius last vacation to explore the coast. I wish now that I had stayed at home, for then Beardsley wouldn't have thought of hiring me. Let us be as lively as we can, for it will look suspicious if I hang back."
Although the mother's heart was almost ready to break, she exhibited no sign of emotion. Like thousands of other women all over the land she gave up her son, hoping almost against hope that the fates would be kind enough to bring him back to her; but it is not to be supposed that she called Heaven's choicest blessings down upon the heads of the secession leaders who had made the sacrifice necessary. Marcy bustled about, doing no good whatever, but just to keep from thinking, and in ten minutes more there had been a tender farewell at the gate, a single kiss of parting, and the pilot of the privateer was well on his way toward Captain Beardsley's house. That gentleman saw him coming and waited for him. Perhaps he had hoped that the boy would show the white feather at the last moment. If so, he did not know Marcy Gray.
"We'll be short-handed going down," said he, as he led the way across the road and into the bushes; "but we shall be all right the minute we strike Newbern. When I got my commission out of the office this afternoon I telegraphed to my agent telling him we would start to-night, and for him to be sure and have a crew ready for us."
"Why, I thought your crew was already shipped," said Marcy. "You certainly gave me to understand as much."
"So they were, but I don't much expect to find 'em when I get there.
They'll get tired of waiting and go out on the first ship that sails.
But we'll have a crew. Don't worry about that."
"Worse and worse," thought Marcy. "We'll get a crew undoubtedly; but what sort of men will they be? Dock-rats and 'longshoremen, most likely, such as a decent captain wouldn't have on board his vessel. If we get into trouble and I run the schooner aground while trying to bring her out, they will be just the sort to pitch me overboard."
As this thought passed through Marcy's mind he slipped his hand into his pocket. Captain Beardsley saw the motion and inquired:
"Got a pop with you?"