Chapter 21

Lysander felt for his sword, found that gone also, and muttered again, "Villain!"

"Did somepody say somepody is a willain?" remarked Carl. "I should not be wery much surprised if that vas so. Willains nowdays is cheap. I have known a great wariety since secesh times pegan. But as for your particular case, sir, I peg to give some adwice. There is some ladies present, and you must keep quiet. Do you remember how I vas kept quiet ven I vas _your_ prisoner? I had pracelets on. And do you remember I vas putting some supper in my pocket ven you took me to show you the cave? Veil, I make von great mishtake; instead of supper, vat I vas putting in my pocket vas them wery pracelets!"

And Carl produced the handcuffs. At that moment Penn and Cudjo arrived; and Lysander, observing them, submitted to his fate with beautiful resignation. The irons were put on, and Carl mounted guard over him with the pistol.

XXXVIII.

_LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS._

Cudjo was highly exasperated to find strangers in the cave. He became quickly reconciled to the presence of Virginia's sister, but not to that of Lysander. To pacify him, Carl made him a present of the sword which he had removed from the captain's noble person on arriving.

Cudjo received the weapon with unbounded delight, and proceeded to adjust the belt to his own Ethiopian waist. It mattered little with him that he got the scabbard on the wrong side of his body: a sword was a sword; and he wore it in awkward and ridiculous fashion, strutting up and down in the fire-lighted cave, to the envy and disgust of old Toby, the rage of Lysander, and the amusement of the rest.

Penn meanwhile related to his friends his evening's adventures. He had gone down to the ravine with the negroes to bury the horse and his dead rider. He was keeping watch while they worked; the man was interred, and they were digging a pit for the animal, when they discovered the approach of the soldiers, and retired to a hiding-place close by. There they lay concealed, whilst Ropes and his men descended to the spot, exhumed the corpse with Cudjo's shovel, made their comments upon it, and put it back into the ground. During this operation it had required all Pomp's authority, and the restraint of his strong hand, to keep Cudjo from pouncing upon his old enemy and former overseer, Silas Ropes.

"There were three of us," said Penn, "and only three of them, besides Pepperill; and no doubt a struggle would have resulted in our favor. But we did not want to be troubled with prisoners; and Pomp and I could not see that anything was to be gained by killing them. Besides, we knew they had a strong reserve within call. So we waited patiently until they finished their work, and climbed up out of the ravine; then we climbed up after them. We thought their main object must be to find the cave, and Pomp strongly suspected Pepperill of treachery. We found a large number of soldiers lying under some bushes, and crept near enough to hear what they were saying. They were going to take the cave by surprise, and an order had just come for them to move farther up the mountain. They set off with scarcely any noise, reminding me of the 'Forty Thieves,' as they filed away in the moonlight, and disappeared among the bushes and shadows. Pomp is on their trail now; he has his rifle with him, and it may be heard from if he sees them change their course and approach too near the cave."

Penn had come in for his musket. It was the same that had fallen from the hands of the man Griffin at the moment when that unhappy rebel was in the act of charging bayonet at his breast. Assuring Virginia--who could not conceal her alarm at seeing him take it from its corner--that he was merely going out to reconnoitre, he left the cave.

He was gone several hours. At length he and Pomp returned together. The moon had long since set, but it was beautiful starlight; and, themselves unseen, they had watched carefully the movements of the soldiers.

"You would have laughed to have been in my place, Carl!" said Penn, laying his hand affectionately on the shoulder of his beloved pupil. "They besieged the ledge where your imaginary cave is for full two hours after I went out, apparently without daring to go very near it."

"I suppose," replied Carl, "they vas vaiting for me and the captain. It vas really too pad now for us to make them lose so much waluable time! But they vill excuse Mishter Shprowl; his absence is unawoidable." And lifting his brows with a commiserating expression, he gave a comical side-glance from under them at the languishing Lysander.

All laughed at the lad's humor except the captain himself--and Salina.

After besieging the imaginary cave as Penn had described, several of the confederates, he said, at last ventured with extreme caution to approach it.

"And found," added Carl, "they had been made the wictims of von leetle stratagem!"

"I suppose so," said Penn; "for immediately an unusual stir took place amongst them."

"In searching for the entrance," laughed Pomp, leaning on his rifle, "they came close under a juniper-tree I had climbed into, and I could hear them cursing the little Dutchman----"

"I suppose that vas me," smiled the good-natured Carl.

"And the 'pig-headed captain' who had gone off with him."

"The pig-headed captain is this indiwidual"--indicating Sprowl. "But it is wery unjust to be cursing him, for it vas not his fault. It vas my legs and Toby's that conweyed him; and he had a handkersheaf over his face for a wail."

"I suspected how it was, even before I met Penn and learned what had happened. I am sorry to see this fellow in this place,"--Pomp turned a frowning look at the corner where Lysander lay,--"but now that he is here, he must stay."

Carl, upon whom the only noticeable effect produced by his exciting adventure was a lively disposition to talk, quite unusual with him, entered upon a full explanation of the circumstances which had led to Lysander's capture. His narrative was altogether so simple, so honest, so droll, that even the bitter Salina had to smile at it, while all the rest, the old clergyman included, joined in a hearty laugh of admiring approval at its conclusion.

"I don't see but that you did the best that could be done," said Pomp. "At all events, the villains seem to have been completely baffled. The last I saw of them they were retreating through the burned woods, as if afraid to have daylight find them on the mountain."

The daylight had now come; and Penn, who went out to take an observation, could discover no trace of the vanished rebels. The eastern sky was like a sheet of diaphanous silver, faintly crimsoned above the edges of the hills with streaks of the brightening dawn. All the valley below was inundated by a lake of level mist, whose subtle wave made islands of the hills, and shining inlets of the intervales. Above this sea of white silence rose the mountain ranges, inexpressibly calm and beautiful, fresh from their bath of starlight and dew, and empurpled with softest tints of the early morning.

Penn heard a footstep, and felt a touch on his arm. Was it the beauty of the earth and sky that made him shiver with so sudden and sweet a thrill? or was it the lovely presence at his side, in whom was incarnated, for him, all the beauty, all the light, all the joy of the universe?

It was Virginia, who leaned so gently on his arm, that not the slight pressure of her weight, but rather the impalpable shock of bliss her very nearness brought, made him aware of her approach. Toby followed, supporting her along the shelf of rock--a dark cloud in the wake of that rosy and perfumed dawn.

"O, how delicious it is out here!" said the voice, which, if we were to describe it from the lover's point of view, could be likened only to the songs of birds, the musical utterance of purest flutes, or the blowing of wild winds through those grand harp-strings, the mountain pines; for there was more of poetry and passion compressed in the heart of this quiet young Quaker than we shall venture to give breath to in these pages.

"It is--delicious!" he quiveringly answered, in his happy confusion blending _her_ with his perception of the daybreak.

She inhaled deep draughts of the mountain air.

"How I love it! The breath of trees, and grass, and flowers is in it,--those dear friends of mine, that I pine for, shut up here in prison!"

"Do you?" said Penn, vaguely, half wishing that he was a flower, a blade of grass, or a tree, so that she might pine for him.

"The air of the cave," she said, "is cold; it is odorless. The cave seems to me like the great, chill hearts of some of your profound philosophers! Some of those tremendous books father makes me read to him came out of such hearts, I am sure; great hollow caverns, full of mystery and darkness, and so cold and dull they make me shudder to touch them;--but don't you, for the world, tell him I said so,--for, to please him, I let him think I am ever so much edified by everything that he likes."

"What sort of books _do_ you like?"

"O, I like books with daylight in them! I want them to be living, upper-air, joyous books. There must be sunshine, and birds, and brooks,--human nature, life, suffering, aspiration, and----"

"And love?"

"Of course, there should be a little love in books, since there is sometimes a little, I believe, in real life." But she touched this subject with such airy lightness,--just hovering over it for an instant, and then away, like a butterfly not to be caught,--that Penn felt a jealous trouble. "How long," she added immediately, "do you imagine we shall have to stay here?"

"It is impossible to say," replied Penn, turning with reluctance to the more practical topic. "One would think that the government cannot leave us much longer subject to this atrocious tyranny. An army may be already marching to our relief. But it may be weeks, it may be months, and I am not sure," he added seriously, "but it may be years, before Tennessee is relieved."

"Why, that is terrible! Toby says that poor old man, Mr. Ellerton, who assisted you to escape, was caught and hung by some of the soldiers yesterday."

"I have no doubt but it is true. Although he had returned to his home, he was known to be a Unionist, and probably he was suspected of having aided us; in which case not even his white hairs could save him."

"But it is horrible! They have commenced woman-whipping. And Toby says a negro was hung six times a couple of days ago, and afterwards cut to pieces, for saying to another negro he met, 'Good news; Lincoln's army is coming!' What is going to become of us, if relief doesn't arrive soon? O, to look at the beautiful world we are driven from by these wicked, wicked men!"

"And are you so very weary of the cave?"

Penn gave her a look full of electric tenderness, which seemed to say, "Have not I been with you? and am I nothing to you?"

She smiled, and her voice was tremulous as she answered,--

"I wish I could go out into the sunshine again! But I have not been unhappy. Indeed, I think I have been very happy."

There was an indescribable pause; Virginia's eyes modestly veiled, her face suffused with a blissful light, as if her soul saw some soft and exquisite dream; while Penn's bosom swelled with the long undulations of hope and transport. Toby still lingered in the entrance of the cave.

"Toby," said Penn, such a radiance flashing from his brow as the negro had never seen before, "my good Toby,"--and what ineffable human sympathy vibrated in his tones!--"I wish you would go in and tell our friends that the enemy has quite disappeared: will you?"

"Yes, massa!" said Toby, a ray of that happiness penetrating even the old freedman's breast. For such is the beautiful law of our nature, that love cannot be concealed; it cannot be monopolized by one, nor yet by two; but when its divine glow is kindled in any soul, it beams forth from the eyes, it thrills in the tones of the voice, it breathes from all the invisible magnetic pores of being, and sheds sunshine and warmth on all.

Toby went. Then an arm of manly strength, yet of all manly gentleness, stole about the waist of the girl, and drew her softly, close, closer; while something else, impalpable, ravishing, holy, drew her by a still more potent attraction; until, for the first time in her young and pure life, her mouth met another mouth with the soul's virgin kiss. Her lips had kissed many times before, but her soul never. How long it lasted, that sweet perturbation, that fervent experience of a touch, neither, I suppose, ever knew; for at such times a moment is an eternity. As a lightning flash in a dark night reveals, for a dazzling instant, a world concealed before, so the electric interchange of two hearts charged with love's lightning seems to open the very doors of infinity; and it is the glory of heaven that shines upon them.

Not a word was spoken.

Then Penn held Virginia before him, and looked deep into her eyes, and said, with a strange tremor of lip and voice,--using the gentle speech of the Friends, into which old familiar channel his thoughts flowed naturally in moments of strong feeling,--

"Wherever this dear face smiles upon me, there is my sunshine. I must be very selfish; for notwithstanding all the dangers and discomforts by which I see thee and thy father surrounded, the hours we have passed together here have been the happiest of my life. Yea, and suffering and privation would be never anything to me, if I could always have thee with me, Virginia!"

How different, meanwhile, was the scene within the cave! How chafed the fiery Lysander! How spitefully Salina bit her lips ever at sight of him! And these two had once been lovers, and had seen rainbows span their future also! Is it love that unites such, or is it only the yearning for love? For love, the reality, fuses all qualities, and brings into harmony all clashing chords.

Toby entered, the gleam of others' happiness still in his countenance.

"De enemy hab dis'peared; all gone down in de frog."

"The frog, Toby?" said Mr. Villars.

"Yes, sar; right smart frog down 'ar in de volley!"

"He means, a fog in the walley," said Carl.

XXXIX.

_A COUNCIL OF WAR._

Owing to the disturbances of the night the old clergyman had slept little. He now lay down on the couch, and soon sank into a profound slumber. When he awoke he heard the hum of voices. The cave was filled with armed men.

"It is Mr. Stackridge and his friends," said Virginia. "They have come to hold a council of war; and they look upon you as their grand sachem."

"I have brought them here," said Pomp, "at their request--all except Deslow."

"Where is he?"

"Deslow, I believe, has deserted!" said Stackridge.

"Ah! What makes you think so?"

"Well, I've watched him right close, and I've seen a good deal of what's been working in his mind. He's one o' them fools that believe Slavery is God; and he can't get over it. Pomp, here, saved our lives in the fire the other night; and Deslow couldn't stand it. To owe his life to a runaway slave--that was too dreadful!" said Stackridge with savage sarcasm. "He's a man that would rather be roasted alive, and see his country ruined, I suppose, than do anything that might damage in the least degree his divine institution! There's the difference 'twixt him and me. Sence slavery has made war agin' the Union, and turned us out of our homes, I say, by the Lord! let it go down to hell, as it desarves!"

"You use strong language, neighbor!"

"I do; and it's time, I reckon, when strong language, and strong actions too, are called fur. You hate a man that you've befriended, and that's turned traitor agin' ye, worse'n you hate an open inemy, don't ye? Wal, I've befriended slavery, and it's turned traitor agin' me, and all I hold most sacred in this world, and I'm jest getting my eyes open to it; and so I say, let it go down! I've no patience with such men as Deslow, and I'm glad, on the whole, he's gone. He don't belong with us anyhow. I say, any man that loves any kind of property, or any party, or institution, better than he loves the old Union"--Stackridge said this with tears of passion in his eyes,--"such a man belongs with the rebels, and the sooner we sift 'em out of our ranks the better."

"When did he go?"

"Some of us were out foraging again last night; Withers and Deslow with the rest. Tell what he said to you, Withers."

The group of fugitives had gathered about the bed on which the old clergyman sat. Withers was scraping his long horny nails with a huge jackknife.

"He says to me, says he, 'Withers, we've got inter a bad scrape.' 'How so?' says I; for I thought we war gittin' out of a right bad scrape when we got out of that temp'rary jail. 'The wust hain't happened yet,' says he. 'That's bad,' says I, 'fur it's allus good fur a feller to know the wust has happened.' And so I told him a little story. Says I, 'When I was a little boy 'bout that high, I was helping my daddy one day secure some hay. Wal, it looked like rain, and we put in right smart till the fust sprinkles begun to fall,--great drops, big as ox-eyes,--and they skeert me, for I war awful 'fraid of gittin' wet. So what did I do but run and git under some boards. My daddy war so busy he didn't see me, till bime-by he come that way, rolling up the hay-cocks to kill, and looked, and thar I war under the pile o' boards, curled up like a hedgehog to keep dry. 'Josh,' says he, 'what ye doin' thar? Why ain't ye to work?' ''Fraid o' gittin' wet!' says I. 'Pon that he didn't say a word, but jest come and took me by the collar, and led me to a little run close by, and jest casoused me in the water, head over heels, and then jest pulled me out agin. 'Now,' says he, 'ye can go to work, and you won't be the leastest mite afeard o' gittin' wet. Wal, 'twas about so. I didn't mind the rain, arter that. 'Wal, Deslow,' says I, 'that larnt me a lesson; and ever sence I've always thought 'twas a good thing fur us, when trouble comes, to have the wust happen, and know it's the wust, fur then we'se prepared fur't, and ain't no longer to be skeert by a little shower.' That's what I said to Deslow." And Withers continued scraping his nails.

"Very good philosophy, indeed!" said Mr. Villars. "And what did he reply?"

"He said, when the wust happened to us, we'd find we had no home, no property, and no country left; and fur his part he had been thinking we'd better go and give ourselves up, make peace with the authorities, and take the oath of allegiance. 'Lincoln won't send no army to relieve us yet a-while,' says he, 'and even if he does, you know, victory for the Federals means the death of our institootions! So I see where the shoe pinched with him; and I said, 'If that continners to be your ways of thinkin', I hain't the least objections to partin' comp'ny with ye, as the house dog said to the skunk; only,' says I, 'don't ye go to betrayin' us, if you conclude to go.' Soon arter that we separated, and that's the last any on us have seen of him."

"They've begun to whip women, too," said Stackridge. "But, by right good luck, when this scamp here--" glowering upon Lysander--"sent to have my wife whipped, he got his own mother whipped in her place! He's a connection o' your family, I know, Mr. Villars; but I never spile a story for relation's sake."

"Nor need you, friend Stackridge. Sorry I am for that deluded young man; but he reaps what he has sown, and he has only himself to blame."

"'Twas a regular secesh operation, that of having his own mother strung up," said Captain Grudd. "They are working against their own interests and families without knowing it. When they think they are destroying the Union, they are destroying their own honor and influence; for so it 'ill be sure to turn out."

"It was Liberty they intended to have beaten," said Penn; "but they will find that it is the back of their own mother, Slavery, that receives the rods."

"Just what I meant to say; but it took the professor to put it into the right shape. By the way, neighbors, we owe the professor an apology. Some of us found fault with his views of slavery and secession; but we've all come around to 'em pretty generally, I believe, by this time. Here's my hand, professor, and let me say I think you was right enough in all but one thing--your plaguy non-resistance."

"He has thought better of that," said Mr. Villars, pleasantly.

"Yes, zhentlemen," said Carl, anxious to exonerate his friend, "he has been conwerted."

"We have found that out, to his credit," said Stackridge.

And, one after another, all took Penn cordially by the hand.

"We are all brothers in one cause, OUR COUNTRY," said Penn. Nor did he stop when the hand of the last patriot was shaken; he took the hand of Pomp also. "We are all men in the sight of God!" His heart was full; there was a thrill of fervent emotion in his voice. His calm young face, his firm and finely-cut features, always noticeable for a certain massiveness and strength, were singularly illumined. He went on, the light of the cave-fire throwing its ruddy flash on the group. "We are all His children. He has brought us together here for a purpose. The work to be done is for all men, for humanity: it is God's work. To that we should be willing to give everything--even our lives; even our selfish prejudices, dearer to some than their lives. I believe that upon the success of our cause depends, not the prosperity of any class of men, or of any race of men, only, but of all men, and all races. For America marches in the van of human progress, and if she falters, if she ignobly turns back, woe is to the world! Perhaps you do not see this yet; but never mind. One thing we all see--a path straight before us, our duty to our country. We must put every other consideration aside, forget all minor differences, and unite in this the defence of the nation's life."

An involuntary burst of applause testified how ardently the hearts of the patriots responded to these words. Some wrung Penn's hand again. Pomp meanwhile, erect, and proud as a prince, with his arms folded upon his massive and swelling chest, smiled with deep and quiet satisfaction at the scene. There was another who smiled, too, her face suffused with love and pride ineffable, as her eyes watched the young Quaker, and her soul drank in his words.

"That's the sentiment!" said Stackridge. "And now, what is to be done? We have been disappointed in one thing. Our friends don't join us. One reason is, no doubt, they hain't got arms. But the main reason is, they look upon our cause as desperate. Desperate or not, it can't be helped, as I see. With or without help, we must fight it through, or go back, like that putty-head Deslow, and take the oath of allegiance to the bogus government. Mr. Villars, you're wise, and we want your opinion."

"That, I fear, will be worth little to you!" answered the old man, bowing his head with true humility. "It seems to me that you are not to rely upon any open assistance from your friends. And sorry I am to add, I think you should not rely, either, upon any immediate aid from the government. The government has its hands full. The time is coming when you who have eyes will see the old flag once more floating on the breezes of East Tennessee. But it may be long first. And in the mean time it is your duty to look out for yourselves."

"That is it," said Stackridge. "But how?"

"It seems to me that your retreat cannot remain long concealed. Therefore, this is what I advise. Make your preparations to disperse at any moment. You may be compelled to hide for months in the mountains and woods, hunted continually, and never permitted to sleep in safety twice in the same place. That will be the fate of hundreds. There is but one thing better for you to do. It is this. Force your way over the mountains into Kentucky, join the national army, and hasten its advance."

"And you?" said Captain Grudd.

The old man smiled with beautiful serenity.