"We feel like taking a little walk this evening," continued the captain, while the door was forced clear back, and three of us stood abreast in it ready to spring.
The astonishment of the jailer now knew no bounds. "What?—how?—where?" he gasped, in broken ejaculations.
Fry's countenance grew darker as he clasped the old man in his arms, and said,—
"We have stayed as long as we can stand it, and are now going to leave and let the other prisoners out; so give up the keys, and make no noise about it, or it will be the worse for you!"
Turner tightened his grasp on the keys, whispered, hoarsely, "You can't do that," then threw himself back and began in a loud tone, "Guar—" when my hand closed across his mouth and stifled the incipient call for help. He bit my finger, but did no great damage.
Then came the rush of the prisoners,—quick, stealthy, cat-like. Not a sound was audible a dozen yards away. The negroes huddled in a corner of the room in stupid fright, but had sense enough to be quiet. Turner struggled violently, for he was a man of great strength, but Fry and I kept him mute; the keys were twisted from him, and Buffum was soon at work on the locks of the other doors. Quietly the assaulting column descended the stairway and burst out upon the guards outside. If they committed a fault, it was in being too quick. In one minute Buffum would have had the other doors unlocked, and then, throwing aside the disarmed jailer, Fry, Buffum, and myself, reinforced by all the prisoners who chose to go with us, would have stood by their side in the second charge. This trifling circumstance did make a considerable difference in the result,—at least, to some of us.
Seven sentinels were on duty,—three in the back yard, four in the front yard. The charge upon the former was completely successful, their guns being wrested from them before they knew their danger, and they were kept perfectly quiet under the threat—which would have been executed—of instant death.
The attack in the front yard was made with equal gallantry and skill, but not with equal success. Two rebels stood near the front door of the prison, and these were secured in the same manner as their comrades at the rear, and held in silence. Had the remaining two been close at hand, I have no doubt they would have fared as their comrades, and thus the unparalleled feat of twelve unarmed prisoners taking the loaded muskets from seven guards on their post would have been accomplished. But, unfortunately, the last two stood at the open gate. Their conduct was not brave but it was wise, for, without firing a shot, they ran out through the gate, screaming the alarm in tones that roused the whole neighborhood. The reserve guard was close at hand, and at once rushed to the rescue.
The whole action, from the time Fry stepped out of the door until the wild cry was raised at the gate, was probably less than sixty seconds. Fry and myself were preparing to secure the jailer, for we knew not yet that the attack was made. Buffum had opened two doors, and was working at the third when the wild, thrilling cry of alarm arose from below. Those within adjured him to open, and the brave man, though his own chances of life were lessening each second, worked till the door opened, and then violently flung it wide, with an impatient "there!" while he bounded down the stairway like a hunted deer.