The Man in Gray: A Romance of North and South Part 55

"The raiders took you by force?" Lee asked.

"Ya.s.sah! Dey pulls me outen bed, make me put on my close, gimme dis here han' spike, an' tells me I kin kill my ole marster an' missis when I feels like it--"

"Did you try to kill them?" Lee asked seriously.

"Who? Me?"

"Yes."

"Man! I drawed dat han' spike on dem Abolis.h.i.+oners an' I says: 'You low doun stinkin' po' white trash. Des try ter lay de weight er yo' han' on my marster er missis,--an' I'll lan' yo' in de middle of er spell er sickness'--"

"And they took you prisoner."

"Ya.s.sah."

"I see."

"Dey starts ter shoot me fust! But den dey say I wuzn't wuf de powder an' lead hit'ud take ter kill me."

"And you escaped?"

"Na sah, not den. Dey make me go wid 'em, wher er no. But I git loose byme bye an' crawl inter dat patch er trees doun dar by de ribber--"

"We found him there," Green nodded.

"Ya.s.sah, I mak' up my min' dat dey's have ter burn de woods an' sif de ashes for' dey ebber see me ergin."

Stuart's boyish laughter rang without restraint.

"All right, uncle," Lee responded cordially. "You can leave that pike with me."

"Ya.s.sah, you kin sho have it. G.o.d knows I ain't got no use fur it."

He threw the pike down and brushed his hands as if to get rid of the contagion of its touch.

"You're safe," Lee added. "The United States Marines are in command of Harper's Ferry now."

"Ya.s.sah. De Lawd knows I doan wanter 'sociate wid no slu-footed, knock-kneed po' whites. I'se er ristercrat, I is. Ya.s.sah, dat's me!"

"I'm glad to help you, uncle."

"Thankee, sah."

"Hurry back to your home now and help your people in their troubles."

"Ya.s.sah, right away, sah--right away!"

The old man hurried home, bowing right and left to his white friends and muttering curses on the heads of the Abolitionists, who had dragged him from his bed and caused him to lose four square meals.

Lee examined the pike carefully. He measured its long stiletto-like blade, projecting nine inches from its fastenings in the hickory handle.

He observed the skill and care with which the rivets had been set.

"An ugly piece of iron," he said at last.

"I'll bet they've thousands of them somewhere back in these hills,"

Stuart added.

"And not a negro has lifted his hand against his master?"

"Not one."

Lee ran his fingers along the edges of the blade and a dreamy look came into his thoughtful eyes.

"My boy, such people deserve their freedom. But not this way--not this way! G.o.d save us from the horrors of the mob and the fanatic who leads them! Slavery is surely and swiftly dying. It cannot survive the economic pressure of the century. If only we can be saved from such madness."

His voice died away as in a troubled dream. He looked up suddenly and turned to his aide.

"I must summon their leader to surrender. You have not yet learned his name?"

"He calls himself John Smith, sir. They've been here all summer in an old farmhouse on the Maryland side."

"Strange that their purpose should not have been discovered. Their work has been carefully and secretly planned."

"Beyond a doubt."

"They could not have done it without big backing somewhere."

"They've had it. They've had plenty of money. They have rifles of the finest make. And they're not the type made in this a.r.s.enal."

"They expected to use the rifles in the Armory, of course. And they expect reinforcements. Any sign of their reserves?"

"Not yet, sir. We have the roads guarded for ten miles."

"We'll settle it before they can get help," Lee said sharply.

He hastily wrote a summons to surrender and handed it to Stuart.

"Approach the Engine House under a flag of truce. Ask for a parley with their leader and give him this."

Stuart saluted.

"At once, sir."

He attached his handkerchief to his sword and entered the gate. A loud murmur rose from the crowd of excited people who had pressed close to see the famous commander of the Marines.

Lee turned to the sentinel.

"Push that crowd back."