A Rebellion in Dixie, Harry Castlemon [mobi ebook reader .txt] 📗
- Author: Harry Castlemon
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“Say, old woman, you want to keep your distance!” said Bud, who was so angry that he could scarcely talk straight. “You try that again and I’ll have you through that window!”
By this time the men from the front part of the house had entered through the door—the man with his axe didn’t make half the battle his wife did—but no Dan was there to be seen. You will remember that when he came back he sat down with his pipe to smoke and think over the perfidy of the captain in giving him promotion when he had no business to do it, and that he had not yet gone to bed. While smoking he was startled by a noise in the bushes. He listened, but the noise increased and grew louder, and in an instant it flashed upon him that his interview with the rebel captain was known. That was enough to start him into the bushes. Giving his father a sign to call Cale, he was out of 284sight in a moment, and all efforts to find him were useless.
“Here’s one of them, colonel!” said Bud, coming around the house. “Now, where’s the other?”
The man had been disarmed of his axe, and the woman didn’t seem to have any more fight left in her, the powerful jerk she got from Bud satisfying her that the best thing she could do was to keep quiet; but they had plenty of talk left in them.
“Of all the mean things that I ever saw this is the beat!” said Mrs. Newman, as she gazed around at the number of men that had come there to take her boy into custody.
“It is an outrage!” chimed in Mr. Newman, stamping about over the floor as if he were almost beside himself. “They come with an army of men to take away one little fellow! I hope you feel duly ashamed of yourselves.”
“Let go my coat!” exclaimed Cale to the man who held him tight by his collar to see that he did not escape. “What are you going to do with me?”
285“We’ll put you in jail; that’s what we’ll do with you,” said the man. “You have preached up secession long enough.”
“Say, father, are you going to let that old jail stand?” demanded Cale, trying hard to escape from the grip that held him. “You said that you would cut it down if they took any of us there.”
“Where’s your brother?” demanded Bud.
“He’s gone where you won’t find him,” retorted Mrs. Newman. “Now, I want you to turn my boy loose.”
“We have had enough out of you,” said Mr. Sprague, who had looked all around in the hope of finding Dan hidden somewhere in the house. “If you say another word I’ll take you along to keep Cale company. You two stay here and watch the cabin, one in front and one at the back,” he added, pointing out two of the men he wished to obey his orders. “Don’t let Newman and his wife go out of doors, and if Dan comes back here, gobble him up. I will relieve you in a couple of hours. Forward, the rest of us.”
Taking Cale along the narrow path that 286led through the woods was as much as two men wanted to do, he kicked and struggled so furiously. As long as he remained within reach of his father he constantly appealed to his father to “cut down the jail” so that he could not be confined there, and it was only when Mr. Sprague threatened him with the gag that he condescended to keep still. They hustled him along the half a mile that led to Ellisville, and when they arrived within sight of the grove they found all the men there to see how they had come out. Cale must have listened to some things that astonished him, for he heard one man say that hanging was too good for such as he was, and advocated that he be tied to a tree and left there. He was marched through the crowd of men, some of whom shook their fists in his face, and up the stairs that led to the President’s office. Then the men let go of his collar, and in an instant every inch of standing-room was filled. There wasn’t the least chance for escape.
“Well, Cale Newman,” said the President, taking off his spectacles and settling back in 287his chair, “you tried to get those Confederates last night to go after our boys.”
“I never,” began Cale.
“I am not here to argue the matter with you; I am here to tell you what you have done,” said Mr. Knight. “They offered you promotion in case you would do something for them.”
“Well, I’ll tell you how it was,” said Cale, who didn’t think that he was betraying his brother by the confession he was about to make. “The captain offered to make me lieutenant, but I didn’t think he had any right to do it.”
“Ah!” said the President.
“Yes; and my brother he offered to make captain. Dan was in for it, but I was a little jubius. He offered to show them where Leon and that rebel fellow was, but the captain said he would go on and see how many men they were at the bridge.”
“And that was the time they killed Bach Noble,” said Mr. Knight, with suppressed fury.
“Well, it was all in war times, wasn’t it?”
288“War times? What do you mean by that?” ejaculated the President, while a restless movement among the men told that they did not uphold anybody in thus taking the life of a sentry. Bach Noble was one of the most popular lumbermen in the county, and this method of shooting him just because it “was war times” aroused all the anger there was in them. A word from the President would have seen Cale swung up to a tree in less than no time.
“It was war times, wasn’t it?” inquired Cale, who seemed to think he had said too much.
“We’ll not discuss that. The Confederate captain offered you and your brother promotion. Then what?”
By a little questioning Mr. Knight got at all that had transpired during their interview with the Confederate captain, and the old soldiers that were in there were amazed when they saw how green Dan was. After thinking a moment, he said:
“I don’t think that Cale has been guilty of treason. What do you men say to that?”
289“No,” said a voice. “But he has been giving out docterings that won’t go down with this county.”
“That’s so,” chimed in others.
“I acknowledge that,” said Mr. Knight. “But I say let’s shut him up and keep him until we can catch his brother. He can’t be far off.”
“I noticed that some of my men went into the bushes to find him,” said Mr. Sprague. “Some of them haven’t returned yet.”
“Very well. We’ll shut Cale up until we find that slippery brother, and then we’ll examine them both. We’ll find a room somewhere in the hotel—I see Bass Kennedy has got his corn in the jail and it would be hardly worth while to take it out for the sake of one prisoner—and, Eph, if you will keep watch of him I will relieve you in a couple of hours.”
“Well, say, Knight,” began Cale.
“Mister Knight, if you please. I am mister to all such fellows as you are. What were you going to say?”
“I want you to understand that you dassent hang me,” said Cale, not daring to venture 290upon the man’s surname again. Like everybody else in the county he had learned to call a man by his name without any fixture to it, and he did not care to begin now. His father had always spoken of him as “Knight,” and Cale thought he was as good as the President.
“Dassent, eh?” said Mr. Knight, with a look of surprise. “You will find that we dare do anything.”
“But I tell you that my father will tell the folks at Mobile about it,” whined Cale, almost ready to cry.
“There you have it. Shut him up. Eph, you want to open the door every time you hear the clock strike, to see if he is there. If there is no further business before the meeting it stands adjourned.”
Eph at once seized his prisoner and hurried him before the proprietor of the hotel, who at once hit upon a room that would do for his confinement.
“We’ll put him high up, so that he can’t get down,” said he. “We’ll put him up in the third story. Come on.”
291Taking a key from behind his desk, the proprietor led the way up the stairs until he came to a small room with only one window in it, pushed open the door and stood aside, so that Cale could enter. There was literally no furniture in the room, it all having been removed down-stairs, so that it could be ready to be moved whenever Mr. Faulkner got ready to go to the swamp.
“Now, sir, you’ll stay here till you come out to be hung,” said Eph, giving him a shove.
“Good mercy me!” exclaimed Mr. Faulkner, opening his eyes in surprise. “Is that what’s to become of him? Well, it’s a mighty hard death for a young man to die.”
“Oh, no, they dassent hang me,” said Cale, almost ready to cry again.
“If we do your pap will tell the folks in Mobile about it,” said Eph, with a sneer. “Well, you tell your folks in Mobile to go somewhere and do something about it. Didn’t you hear what our President said, that we dare do anything?”
“He ain’t any more a President than I be,” declared Cale, boldly.
292“Let me hear you say those words again and I’ll begin operations right here!” said Eph. “He’s as much of a President as Jeff Davis, and I am not going to hear a word said against him. Go in there!”
“Hold on. He hasn’t got a chair. I’ll get one.”
Mr. Faulkner was gone not more than two minutes and came back with a chair, which was pushed into the room, and then the jailer locked the door and put the key into his pocket. Cale took a look around his prison, and then walked to the window and took a good look there, too. It wasn’t a great ways to the ground, and Cale was certain, if his enemies did not put a sentry there to see that he did not drop down and take himself safe off, his escape would be an assured thing. He tried the window, and was gratified to find that it yielded to his touch. Then he walked back to the chair and seated himself upon it.
“Those Union men is mighty smart,” he soliloquized. “Because I am three stories up they think I am safe. I’ll show them how easy it will be for me to hang by my hands 293and drop down. And they talk about hanging me! I’ll bet they can’t do it.”
The muffled tread of the sentry came to his ears, and finally, when the clock struck, Eph opened the door to see if he was there.
LEON A PRISONER.
“Ah!” said Eph, “you’re there yet. You are thinking over how you can escape being hung for your treason. Well, that’s a good way to put in one’s time.”
Cale did not answer. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed upon his hands, and he was thinking deeply—not of how he could escape being hanged, but of where he should go and what he should do in case he made the attempt at escape successful. He had heard Mr. Sprague, when he placed sentinels over his house, one in front and another behind—had heard him tell them not to let his father or mother go out of the house—and he knew it would be foolhardy to go home after that. The sentries would capture him and bring him back to his prison. Eph took an unbounded delight in bothering the 295boy. He knew that the most that would be done with Cale would be to ship him off among his friends, and that would be the last of him. He glanced at the window to see that it was all right, and then went out, closing the door behind him.
“That fellow keeps telling me that I am going to be hung,” said Cale, raising his head and
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