CHAPTER XIII
THE SIEGE
For some moments after Pierre released Horry Sims from the bonds which had held him so securely, the Tory was literally unable to move hand or foot, thus giving good proof of the suffering which must have been his while he lay beneath the puncheon planks of the floor, powerless to command his body save in the way of breathing.
After having chafed his limbs until the circulation of blood was partially restored, the prisoner limped over into the corner where Pierre and I had left him when we set out upon that stroll which resulted so differently from our expectations, and there he crouched upon the floor as if intent on showing us that he would remain a willing captive. As a matter of fact, I believe the lad was more terrified by the cannonading which yet continued and seemingly shook the very ground beneath our feet, than he was by the knowledge that we held him in our power.
And it was terrifying, whether for Tory or Whig, far more so than if we had been in the open where it might be possible to see all that was going on, or if we were taking part with the troops; but to remain shut up in the cabin, not knowing how near death might be to us, and fearing each instant lest our frail shelter should be torn to splinters by a cannon ball, was something that got on one's nerves more, I dare venture to say, than any other danger.
During the first two or three minutes after the excitement of meeting with Uncle 'Rasmus had died away, there were times when it seemed well nigh impossible for me to so far control myself as to remain in-doors; it was as if I must go out; as if I must face that danger which seemed so imminent; as if I could not meet death while being all ignorant of how it might come to me.
It was well, perhaps, that Pierre started a conversation by asking Uncle 'Rasmus how he had passed the hours of our absence, and I believe little Frenchie did this rather in order to take our minds from what was going on around us, than because he really desired information.
The old negro told us in his peculiar way, of awaiting our coming with whatsoever of patience he could summon, believing each instant we would enter, and then as the hours wore on fear, as was quite natural, took possession of him. He could not imagine any combination of circumstances which would keep us abroad so long, save we had fallen into the hands of the enemy, most like arrested as spies. Before morning came he was convinced that such must have been the case, and the only hope he had of learning what had befallen us was in the coming of Morgan; but there was a fear that he might have been taken in our company, and would therefore share our fate.
"I done got terribly flustered up, chillun, an' dats a fac', kase I counted I wasn' eber gwine to see youse any mo'. Dere was one spell jes' 'fore daybreak when I got it inter my min' dat dere was nuffin lef' fo' de ole nigger to do but skitter out ob dis yere village, an' it was mighty uncertain whether he could get out ob it or not."