JACQUELIN GRAY AND ANDY STAMPER PAY AN OLD DEBT

The disappearance of Leech had strangely affected Miss Bush. She was much agitated by it. Her host was sure at first that Leech had gone off; then he was sure he had been murdered. Miss Bush was accustomed to investigate for herself. Among her acquaintances was old Peggy, who lived in the cabin on the abandoned place. Miss Bush, in her round among the negroes, had found the old woman, and, in the face of some coldness on the latter’s part, had persisted in showing her kindness, and had finally won her gratitude, if not her friendship. Soon after Leech’s disappearance she paid old Peggy a visit. Then she went to see Miss Welch. If Miss Welch would only use her influence with Captain Allen! Miss Welch had none; they did not even speak. But she made a suggestion.

So, one evening about dusk, just after the arrival of Thurston with his command, a visitor, deeply veiled, applied to the sentinel at the gate of the court-green, and asked leave to see Mr. Jacquelin Gray. The sergeant of the guard was called, and, after certain formalities, she was admitted to the clerk’s office; and a few minutes later Jacquelin Gray came in. The visitor stated, with some nervousness, that she wished to see him privately, and Jacquelin, wondering what the stranger could want with him, walked with her into the inner office. Even there she appeared greatly embarrassed. She evidently did not know how to begin, and Jacquelin, to relieve her, asked her kindly what he could do for her.

“I have a great favor to ask of you,” she said.

“Well, madam, I do not know what I can do for anyone, a prisoner like me,” said Jacquelin, smiling half-grimly, half-sadly. “But I think I can say that whatever I can do I will do.”

“I am sure you can. If you cannot, no one can. I want you to intercede for me with Captain Allen.”

“With Steve! For you? Why, I do not know where he is! And I am sure if he knew you wanted anything he could grant, he would do it on your own simple request. Who are you?”

The visitor, after a moment of hesitation, put back her veil and faced him. “Don’t you remember me?” she asked, timidly.

Jacquelin looked at her earnestly. For a moment he was deeply puzzled; then, as a faint smile came into her eyes, a light broke on him.

“Why, Miss Bush! What are you doing here?”

“I am teaching school. I am the school-teacher at the Bend, Miss May.”

“Is it possible?” He stepped forward and took her hand warmly. “I never knew it. I have heard the name, but I never connected it with you. Why did you not let me know before? I am very glad to see you, and I can say that anything in the world I can do for you I will do.”

“You must not promise too fast. It is a great favor I have to prefer,” she said. “And I do not know whether, when you hear it, you will be willing to help me.”

“Well, I know. I have not forgotten the hospital.” She appeared once more deterred from speaking by embarrassment.

“I want you to save Jonadab Leech,” she said.

“What! What do you know of him?” asked Jacquelin, in sincere astonishment.

“I know he is alive.”

“You do? What do you know of him? What is he to you?”

“He is—he was—my husband.”

“Miss Bush!”

“We were separated. But——” She stopped in agitation, pulled down her veil, and turned her face away. Jacquelin watched her in silent sympathy.

“I am sure it was his fault,” he said.

“Yes, I think it was,” brokenly, from under her veil. “He was not very kind to me. But I cannot forget that he was my husband, and the father of my child.”

“I will do what I can for you,” Jacquelin said, kindly. “Tell me how you think I can help him. What do you know of him?”

She composed herself, and told him what she knew. She knew where Leech was, and the conditions under which he was held. She wanted Jacquelin to interfere personally. This alone would save him, she believed. The difficulty was to get Jacquelin free. Here her powers failed, and she sat looking at Jacquelin in hopeless anxiety.

Jacquelin thought deeply. Suddenly he roused himself.

“All right, Miss Bush. I will see what I can do. You are just in time. The order has come this evening, I hear, for us to go to the city to-morrow. I have never asked a favor of my keepers; but I will do it for you, and, if you will wait in here, I will let you know if there is any chance.”

He went out, leaving the little school-teacher in the dim office, His first visit was to his fellow-prisoner, Mr. Stamper. It was an extraordinary request that he made of Thurston a little later: to be allowed to leave his prison for the night, and take Andy Stamper with him, and to be lent two good horses. But it was granted. He promised to be back by daylight, and Thurston knew he would be back.

“I will be here, dead or alive,” said Jacquelin; and he and Andy Stamper rode away in the dusk.

Leech was awakened from his slumbers that night by the trampling of many horses outside, and footsteps and voices in the rooms above him. He started up in terror; for though he could not catch anything that was said, he knew from the sound that there must be many men in the party, and he felt sure that his time had come.

He rose and groped around his chamber. By creeping up to the chimney and listening intently, he could after awhile distinguish a part of what was said. To his unspeakable terror he could hear his own name mentioned again and again. The men were a body of Ku Klux, and they were debating what should be done with him. Most of the voices were low, but now and then one rose. He heard one man distinctly give his vote that he should be hanged, and, judging from the muffled applause that followed, it appeared to meet with much favor. Then he heard the name of Steve Allen, and the discussion seemed to be heated. Suddenly, in the midst of it, there was a general exclamation. A door slammed; a heavy tread crossed the floor above him, and dead silence fell. It was broken by a single voice speaking in the deep tone which Leech recognized instantly as Steve Allen’s. He gave himself up for lost. But he was astonished at the next words that caught his ear. Captain Allen’s voice was clearer than the others, or he was speaking louder, and to the prisoner’s surprise he was defending him, or, at least, was opposing the others. He was evidently angry. Leech heard him say he was surprised to find them there and to learn why they had come. There was a confused murmur at this, and Leech heard one voice calling, “Order! Order! Remember your vows.”

This produced quiet, and the voice said (evidently speaking to Captain Allen):

“It is the decision of the Supreme Council. We have come to take the prisoner and deal with him according to our laws.”

“And I tell you,” said Captain Allen, his voice ringing out clear and perfectly audible, “that I do not recognize your laws, and that you shall not have him. He is my prisoner, and I will defend him with my life. You will not get him except over my dead body.”

There was a suppressed murmur at this, but Captain Allen continued, speaking firmly and boldly. He went over the state of affairs in the County, and related his object in capturing Leech to hold him as a hostage for his friends and relatives. To do away with him would be to destroy the very object with which he had taken him prisoner, and would render himself liable for his murder. This he did not propose to allow. He should hold Leech for the present, and meantime would be responsible for him; and he would allow no one to touch a hair of his head.

Leech began to breathe again. It was a strange feeling to him to be grateful to Steve Allen; but at that moment he could have kissed his feet. There was more talking, but too confused for Leech to catch what was said; and whenever Allen spoke it was in the same bold tone, which showed that he remained firm; and, at length, Leech could hear the crowd going. They came down outside the house, and Leech could hear them getting their horses, and, finally, they rode away. One thing, however, terrified the prisoner. The voices of two men talking near the wall reached him from above. One of them was grumbling that Captain Allen should have come and prevented their carrying out their plan. Who was he, he asked, that he could come in and defy the decision of the Supreme Council? He had left the order, and declared that he did not recognize them any longer; and the speaker did not like to have him or anyone setting himself up and claiming to be above the order.

“Oh, never mind about that,” said the other; “he won’t be here all the time. We’ll come back some time when he is not here, and deal with that dog as he deserves; and then Allen will find out whether he is as big as he thinks himself.”

Just then an order was given by someone, and they rode off, and left Leech with the drops of sweat standing out on his forehead. The sound of their trampling died away, and there fell a deep silence, broken for a little while by the faint sound of a distant footstep, which Leech believed to be that of his captor and guard; and after a short time even this died out, and Leech went back to his bed, trembling with fright, and, finally, sank into a fitful slumber.

He had not been asleep a great while when there was again a sound of horses trampling. Leech sprang up once more, in an agony of terror. He heard a challenge from above—“Halt, there!”—from some one who seemed to be a guard, and then a colloquy, in which he could distinguish his name; and then his guard seemed to yield. After a short interval he heard the footsteps of several men coming down the stair that led to his door, and there was a short consultation outside. He heard someone say, “This is the place Steve said he is in; I know it.”

They tried the door, and then a voice called him, “Leech, Leech—Colonel Leech!” He was afraid to answer. He was almost dead with fright. It called again; and this time he was glad he had not answered, for he heard one of the men say, “He forgot to give me the key. We’ll break in the door. Wait, I’ll get an axe.”

He went up the stair, and Leech could hear the other waiting outside. Leech was sure now that his last hour had come. In his terror he ran to the chimney and attempted to climb up in it. It was too narrow, however; and all he could do was to get up in it a little way and draw up his feet. Here he stuck, wedged in, paralyzed with terror, while he heard the blows outside under which the door was giving way.

Presently the door was smashed in, and Leech could see the light of the torch, or whatever it was, flashed upon the floor, and could hear the voices of the men.

“He isn’t in here,” he heard one say, and his heart revived a little; but the next second it sank, for he heard the searchers say, “There is his bed. He has been in it; so he must be here somewhere.” They approached the chimney, and one of them held his torch up.

“Here he is,” he laughed. “Come out, Colonel.”

He did not wait for Leech to move, but, reaching up, caught him by the leg and pulled him down amid a cloud of dust and soot. Leech must have presented a strange appearance, for the men, who were masked, burst out laughing. Leech began to pray for his life, but the men only laughed.

“Come on, Colonel. We’ll present you to your friends as you are,” said one of them, the smaller. “You ought to be pleased with your looks, for you look just like one of your friends. You wouldn’t know yourself from a nigger.”

Leech recognized Andy Stamper, and knew he was lost. Andy had escaped. He began to beg him, and to make him all sorts of promises, which Andy cut short.

“Oh, pshaw! Come along. Shut up. This is no time for you to be making promises. Come along, and keep your mouth shut.”

They seized him, and dragged him up the steps and through a door out into the darkness. There, at a little distance, were two horses, on one of which Andy Stamper sprang, while the other man made Leech mount up behind him; and then, springing on the other horse himself, they set off at a sharp trot. As they mounted, Leech recognized Jacquelin Gray. He nearly fell from his horse.

As they followed wood-paths he began to have a dim hope; not much, however, for he could not think that these two men could intend him any good. Once, as they were on a road, the sound of horses’ feet ahead reached them, and the two riders instantly left the road and struck into the bushes.

“If you get out of this,” said Andy Stamper, “and get back safe to your friends, will you swear you’ll never say a word about it to anybody? Never a single——?”

“Yes, I’ll swear. I swear before——” said the prisoner, so quickly that the other had not time to finish his question.

“That you will never tell anyone a word about this place, or how you got here, or how you were taken, or anything?”

“Yes, yes. I swear before G—d I never will—never a word. I swear I won’t.”

“Let’s see. How will you swear it?” asked the other, reflectively.

“I’ll swear it on the Bible. I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles.”

“We ain’t got any Bibles,” said the other, dryly.

“I’ll give you my word of honor as a gentleman.”

The other only grunted. He was not much impressed.

“I’ll swear before——”

Mr. Stamper suddenly roused up to the necessities of the occasion.

“Here,” he said, quickly. “Do you swear that, if you ever breathe a word as to how you got here, who brought you, or who took you away, or anything you saw here, or anything about the place at all, you hope G—d will strike you dead, and d—n you in h—l fire?”

“Yes. I’ll swear it,” said Leech, fervently. “I hope he will d—n me forever if I do.”

“And strike you dead?” repeated Andy, not to admit any loophole.

“Yes.”

“If that don’t keep him nothin’ will,” said Andy, dryly, half-aloud; and then he added, for further security: “Well, you’d better keep it, for if you don’t, the earth won’t be big enough to hide you. You won’t have another chance.”

As they waited, a body of horsemen, heavily muffled, rode silently along the road they had just left, and passed out of sight into the woods behind them. It was a body of Ku Klux making their way back home, or, perhaps, back to the house from which Leech had just been taken. The two rescuers rode on and at length emerged into a field, and, crossing it, dismounted behind a clump of buildings.

The eastern sky was just beginning to redden with the first glimmer of dawn; and the cheep of a bird announcing it was heard in the trees as the men tied their horses.

“Come on,” said Andy. “In a little while you can make your promises.” They led Leech between them, half-dead with fright and fatigue, and, helping him over a wall, dragged him up to a door, and, opening it, walked in.

“Who’s that?” asked a man, rising from a sofa, where he had evidently been asleep.

“Here we are; back on time,” said Jacquelin, gravely.

“Ah! you’ve got back? Wait. I’ll strike a light. Who’s this with you?”

“A prisoner,” said Andy, with mock solemnity; “but whether white or black you’ll have to tell.”

The man struck a light, and Leech, to his astonishment, found himself in the presence of a Federal officer—of Reely Thurston.

The two men stared at each other in blank amazement. And it is probable that, if at that moment their happiness in finding their chief wish gratified could have been marred, it would have been by the fact that they owed this to each other. Perhaps something of this kind must have appeared in their faces, for Jacquelin laughed.

“Well, you two can settle matters between you. We are off—to jail,” he said. “Now, Major Leech, you can make good your promises; and it will depend on whether you see fit to do so or not, whether we have done a good act or not. Good-night.” He and Andy went off.

The next day the prisoners were sent to the city under Captain Thurston’s personal guard, the little Captain, for his own private reasons, deciding to take them himself. Leech accompanied them.