True To His Colors Part 27

Then he told his mother what had pa.s.sed between himself and Wat Gifford, and said he hoped Wat would visit him as he promised, for he was anxious to know what else his friend had to tell him. He had warned him against two secret enemies, and Marcy was sure he would feel safer if he knew who the others were. But it was a long time before he saw Wat Gifford again. The latter rode up the very next day, but the boy he wanted to see was on his way to Newbern in the privateer, to take on board the two howitzers which Beardsley fondly hoped would be the means of bringing him so much prize-money that he would not be obliged to do another stroke of work the longest day he lived. Even while Marcy was talking to his mother Captain Beardsley galloped into the yard with a smile on his face and an official envelope in his hand, which he flourished in the air when he drew his horse up at the foot of the steps. Marcy's heart sank within him, and his mother turned away to conceal her agitation. Beardsley had received his commission, and there was no backing out.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTAIN BEARDSLEY BRINGS THE OFFICIAL LETTER.]

"Tain't nothing to turn white over, Mrs. Gray," exclaimed the captain exultingly. "Seems to me that you ought to feel proud to know that your boy has got the chance to strike a telling blow at the enemies of his native State. That's the way it makes me feel, and, Marcy, we want to get the schooner out as soon as we can, so as to catch the ebb tide to take us down to Newbern."

"That means that you need him this very night, I suppose?" faltered Mrs.

Gray.

"Yes-um. That's what it means. The sooner he gets there to lend a hand, the better I'll like it."

"Has that man Tierney been discharged?" asked Marcy.

"He discharged himself," answered. Beardsley. "He must have seen you come into my yard and suspicioned what was up, for when I got to the schooner, he wasn't there. And his partner couldn't tell me nothing about him neither."

"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 s.h.i.+pped," 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 s.h.i.+p 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 'longsh.o.r.emen, 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 pa.s.sed through Marcy's mind he slipped his hand into his pocket. Captain Beardsley saw the motion and inquired:

"Got a pop with you?"

"You wouldn't go on an expedition like this without one, would you?" asked Marcy, in reply. "Have you bargained for any small arms for the schooner?"

"I have, and know right where to get 'em. But I shall keep them locked up in the cabin and give 'em out to the crew only when I think it necessary."

"That's a good plan," observed Marcy. "Do you know anything about gunnery?"

"No, but one of the men I expect to get does. He has served his time on board an English man-of-war and knows all about howitzers, and such things. We couldn't get along without a gunner, you know. If we didn't have one, how would we bring the prizes to?"

Marcy wondered why the captain had so much to say on this point. He asked the question merely out of curiosity, and the man answered it as though Marcy had objected to having a gunner aboard. He learned more about it after a while.

When they reached the bank of the bayou in which the schooner was moored, Marcy found that Beardsley had acted promptly, and that the vessel was ready to be towed into the river. He had stopped there on his way home from the post-office to warn the s.h.i.+p-keeper, and immediately on his arrival at his own house, he had sent a dozen or more stout negroes to man the yawl with which she was to be hauled out.

"Come here, you mokes, and set us aboard," said Captain Beardsley to the negroes who were waiting in the yawl. "Now, let go the fasts and stand by to take a tow-line out for'ard." Then he said to the s.h.i.+p-keeper, in a low tone, "Is Tierney aboard?" and the man replied by pointing toward the deck, indicating, no doubt, that the man who had "discharged himself" could be found on the berth-deck whenever his services were needed.

By the aid of the negroes, who were handy with a boat, the schooner was towed from the bayou into Seven Mile Creek and thence into the Roanoke River a short distance above Plymouth. The jib and foresail were hoisted before she got there, and when they began to draw and the schooner to feel their influence, the darkies were commanded to cast off the tow-line and make the best of their way to the plantation. Marcy went to the wheel, not because there was any piloting to be done in that open river, but for the reason that he happened to be nearest to it, and Captain Beardsley came aft and spoke to him.

"When she gets clear of Plymouth we'll run up the mainsail and then she'll go a-humming," said he, rubbing his hands gleefully together. "This is the first time I was ever in command of a vessel sailing by government authority, and I feel an inch or two taller'n I ever felt before on my own quarter-deck. But this is a gun-deck now, aint it?" he added, stamping his foot upon it to see how solid it was. "If we only had aboard the howitzer that belongs here so that we could salute Plymouth as we skim by-You aint listening to me at all. What you looking at so steady?"

The captain faced about, and, following the direction of Marcy's gaze, saw the man Tierney slowly climbing the stairs that led to the deck. When he got to the top he turned around and came aft in the most unconcerned manner possible.

"Well, there," exclaimed the captain, dropping both his hands by his side and acting as if he were too astonished to say more just then. "If he aint got back I wouldn't say so."

Marcy's first thought was to give the wheel a fling, spill the sails, and demand to be put ash.o.r.e at once; but he did not do it. As Dixon once told the colonel of the Barrington academy, it was too plain a case. Tierney had been aboard the schooner all the time, and Marcy might have found it out if he had been sharp enough to look between decks.

"I'm glad he's come back, for he's the gunner I was telling you about," whispered the captain. "We couldn't get along without him, don't you know we couldn't? Say," he added, as Tierney came up, "didn't you leave word with your partner that you had discharged yourself and wasn't never coming back any more? Aint you a pretty chap to show your face aboard my vessel, and you talking of giving her up to the-"

"Oh, what's the use of keeping that farce up any longer?" cried Marcy, in disgust. "You can't fool me. I don't know what Tierney's object was in trying to bamboozle me the way he did-"

"Well, I'll tell you," the man interposed, "and I'll be honest with you, too. I heard you were a Union man, and I did not want to sail with you if you were."

"That's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," chimed in the captain, nodding and winking at Marcy.

"Well, are you quite satisfied with the test you applied to me?" inquired the pilot.

"I am. I know that you are as good a Southern man as any body in the country."

"And you are willing to acknowledge that you and the captain talked the matter over beforehand, and that when you came to me, to urge me to seize the vessel and turn her over to the Yankees, you did it with his knowledge and consent?" continued Marcy, controlling himself with an effort.

"Course he is," exclaimed Beardsley. "I told him he would find you true as steel, but he-"

"But I wouldn't believe it until I had proved it to my own satisfaction," chimed in Tierney.

The man acted as though he had half a mind to extend his hand to Marcy in token of amity, but if he had, he thought better of it, and in obedience to the captain's order called the other s.h.i.+p-keeper aft to a.s.sist in hoisting the mainsail.

"He didn't offer to shake hands, and that proves that he isn't as friendly as he lets on to be," thought Marcy. "He and the captain are playing into each other's hands. That story was all made up, and if I don't keep my eyes open, they will spring another plot on me. This is a lovely way to live; but I've got to keep suspicion down in someway, and I don't know how else I can do it."

Nothing exciting or interesting occurred during the run to Newbern, for there were no war-vessels inside the sandy bars which inclose the coast of North Carolina and protect it from the fury of the Atlantic storms. Aided by the strong ebb tide and the favorable breeze that was blowing, the privateer made a quick pa.s.sage along the low, swampy sh.o.r.es of Albemarle, and finally entered Croatan Sound, which runs between the eastern coast and Roanoke Island, and connects Pamlico with Albemarle Sound. The forts, water-batteries, and Commodore Lynch's fleet, which were afterward destroyed by Burnside and Goldsborough, were not in existence now. Forts Hatteras and Clark were being built at Hatteras Inlet, but the Confederates wasted time in their construction, for on the 28th day of August Butler and Stringham captured them without the loss of a man, and in defiance of a storm which twice compelled the a.s.saulting fleet to put to sea for safety. How Marcy Gray's heart would have throbbed with exultation if he had known that the flag his Barrington girl gave him was destined to float in triumph over the very waters through which he was now sailing, and at the masthead of a Federal vessel of war! That glorious day was only seven months in the future, but the young pilot had some tight places to sail through before it came around to him.

Marcy Gray had so little heart for the business in which he was perforce engaged, that he hoped something might happen at Newbern to prevent the schooner from sailing on her piratical mission-that the collector of the port might find some fault with her papers; that the howitzers and small arms might not be forthcoming; that it might be impossible to raise a crew; or that anything, no matter what, would come at the last moment to knock Beardsley's scheme in the head. But he was disappointed. The collector could not find any fault with the vessel's commission, for he himself had received it direct from the Confederate capital and forwarded it to the captain; the agent had scarcely slept since he received that dispatch from Nashville, and the result was that when the schooner sailed up to her wharf, she found the howitzers, four cases of muskets and sabers, and a crew of eighteen men, including two mates, waiting for her. The patriotic agent unfurled a brand-new Confederate banner as the schooner threw out a line by which her head could be drawn into the pier, and jumped aboard with it the moment she touched.

"May it be the means of bringing you many an honest dollar," said he, as he spread the flag upon the deck so that the captain could see it. "Are your halliards rove? Then why not go into commission at once, while there is a crowd on the wharf to holler for you? Come aboard, you fellows," he added, waving his hand to the crew, who were already tumbling over the rail, "and stand by to cheer s.h.i.+p when the banner of the Confederacy is run up. Did your vessel take a new name with her coat of new paint, captain?"

"Yes, I kinder thought I would call her the Fish-Hawk."

"Isn't that a queer name for a privateer?" asked the agent.

"Why is it?" inquired the captain, who was busy folding the flag and getting it ready to be run up to the masthead. "Don't the fish-hawk get her living from the water, and aint I going to get mine the same way?"

"That's true. Well, then, call her Osprey. That sounds a little better, I think, and it means the same thing."

"All right. Osprey she is," answered the captain, as he hauled up the flag which had been made into a little bundle. "You stand by to set 'em going."

The crew, as well as the rapidly increasing crowd on the wharf, who watched the little bundle as it traveled toward the head of the mast, did not wait for the agent to "set them going"! When it reached the top, and a slight jerk from one of the halliards loosened the flag to the breeze, they yelled vociferously, and patted one another on the back and shook hands as though they considered it a very auspicious occasion.