University of Virginia Library

25. CHAPTER XXV.

Harrison, thus blessed with happiness, appropriated
but little time, however, to its enjoyment. His mind
was of that active sort, that even the sweets of love
were to be enjoyed by him as a stimulant, rather than
a clog to exertion. Conveying the little family to a
recess in the woods, and out of sight of the craft of
the pirate, he immediately proceeded, having first led
the foresters aside, to explain his further desires to
them in reference to their common duties.

“Joy, my brave fellows, and thanks to you, for this
last night's good service. You have done well, and
risked yourselves nobly. Grayson, give me your hand
—you are a good soldier. Where's your brother?”

“Here!” was the single word of response given
from the rear by the lips of Hugh Grayson, the
younger. The tone of the monosyllable was melancholy,
but not sullen. Harrison advanced to him, and
extended his hand.

“Master Grayson, to you we owe most of our
safety to-day. But for you, the sun would have found
few of us with a scalp on. Your activity in bringing
up the men has saved us; for, though otherwise safe
enough, the firing of the Block House must have been
fatal to all within. For myself, I may freely acknowledge,
my life, at this moment, is due to your timely
appearance. Your command, too, was excellently
managed for so young a soldier. Accept my thanks,
sir, in behalf of the country not less than of myself.
I shall speak to you again on this subject, and in
regard to other services in which your aid will be required,
after a while.”

The youth looked upon Harrison with a degree of
surprise, which prevented him from making any adequate
answer. Whence came that air of conscious
superiority in the speaker—that tone of command—
of a power unquestionable, and held as if born with it
in his possession. The manner of Harrison had all
the ease and loftiness of a prince and, scarcely less
than the crowd around him, the proud-spirited youth
felt a degree of respectful awe stealing over him, of
which he began to grow ashamed. But before he
could recover in time to exhibit any of that rash and
imperious rusticity which the lowlier born of strong
native mind is so apt to show in the presence of the
conventional superior, the speaker had again addressed
the crowd.

“And you, men, you have all done well for the
country, and it owes you its gratitude.”

“Ay, that it does, captain,” said Nichols, advancing
—“that it does. We have stood by her in the hour of
her need. We have resisted the approach of the
bloody invader, and with liberty or death for our motto,
we have rushed to the conflict, sir, defying consequences.”

“Ah, Nichols—you are welcome, both in what you
have done and what you have said. I might have
known that the country was safe in your hands, knowing
as I do your general sentiments on the subject
of the liberties of the people. Granville county,
Nichols, must make you her representative after this,
and I'm sure she will.” The speaker smiled sarcastically
as he spoke, but Nichols had no sight for such
an expression. He replied earnestly:—

“Ah, captain—'twere an honour;—and could my
fellow-countrymen be persuaded to look upon me with
your eyes, proud would I be to stand up for their rights,
and with the thunders of my voice, compel that justice
from the assembly which, in denying representation
to all dissenters, they have most widely departed from.
Ay, captain—fellow-citizens—permit me to address
you now upon a few topics most important to your

own liberties, and to the common benefit of humanity.
My voice—”

“Must just at this moment be unheard,” interrupted
Harrison; “we have need of other thunders now.
Hear me, gentlemen, for this I have called you together.
I want from among you thirty volunteers—hardy,
whole-souled fellows, who do not count heads in a
scuffle. The enterprise is dangerous, and must be
executed—very dangerous I say, and I beg that none
may offer but those who are perfectly ready at any
moment—to use the words of Dr. Nichols—to die for
the country. The doctor himself, however, must not
go, as he is too important to us in his surgical capacity.”

Nichols, well pleased with the exception thus made,
was not however willing to appear so, and, glad of the
opportunity, could not forbear making something of
a popular hit.

“How, captain—this may not be. I am not one of
those, sir, altogether content to be denied the privilege
of dying for my country when occasion calls for it.
Let me go on this service—I insist. I am one of the
people, and will forego none of their dangers.”

“Oh, well, if you insist upon it, of course I can say
nothing—we hold you pledged, therefore. There are
now three of us—Master Hugh Grayson, I presume to
place you, as one with myself and Dr. Nichols, volunteering
upon this service. I understand you so.”

The high compliment, and the delicate manner in
which it was conveyed, totally disarmed young Grayson,
who, softened considerably by the proceeding,
bowed his head in assent, approaching by degrees to
where Harrison stood. Nichols, on the other hand,
had not contemplated so easily getting the permission
which he called for, and well knowing his man, Harrison
barely gave it, as he foresaw it would not be long
before he would assume new ground, which would
bring about a ready evasion of his responsibility. The
elder Grayson meanwhile volunteered also, followed
by several others, and in a little time the required
number was almost complete. But the surgeon now
demanded to know the nature of the service.

“What matters it, doctor—it is an honourable, because
a dangerous service. You shall know in time.”

“That does not suit me, captain. What,—shall I
suffer myself to be led blindfold upon a duty, the propriety
of which may be doubtful, not less than the policy?
Sir—I object upon principle?”

“Principle—indeed, doctor,” said Harrison, smiling.
“Why, what in the name of pounds and shillings has
principle to do in this business?”

“Enough, sir—the rights of man—of the people of
the country, are all involved. Do I not, sir, in thus
volunteering upon a service of which I know nothing,
put myself under the control of one who may make me
a traitor to my country—a defier of the laws, and probably
a murderer of my fellow-man? Sir, what security
have I of the morality and the lawfulness of your
proceeding?”

“Very true—you are right, and such being your
opinions, I think you would err greatly to volunteer in
this business,” was the grave response of Harrison.

“Ah, I knew you would agree with me, captain—I
knew it,” cried the doctor, triumphantly.

“I want another man or two—we are something
short.”

As the leader spoke Hector came forward, his head
hanging on one shoulder, as if he feared rebuff for
his presumption, in the unlooked-for proffer of service
which he now made.

“Mossa—you let Hector go, he glad too much. He
no want stay here wid de doctor and de 'omans.”

His reference to the demagogue, accompanied as it
was with an ill-concealed chuckle of contempt, provoked
the laughter of the crowd; and observing that
the greater number looked favourably upon the proposal
of the negro, Harrison consented.

“You will knock a Spaniard on the head, sir, if I
bid you?”

“Yes, mossa, and scalp 'em too, jist like dem Injin.”

“You shall go.”

“Tankee—dat's a good mossa. Hello, da—” and
perfectly overjoyed, he broke out with a stanza of negro
minstrelsy common, even now, to the slaves of Carolina—

How long Hector might have gone on with his uncouth,
and, so far as the sex is interested, ungallant minstrelsy,
may not well be said; but seeing its direction,
his master silenced it in a sufficiently potent manner.

“Be still, sirrah, or you shall feed on hickory.”

“No hab stomach for 'em, mossa. I dumb.”

“'Tis well. Now, men, see to your weapons—
hatchets and knives for all—we shall need little else,
but fearless hearts and strong hands. Our purpose is
to seize upon that pirate vessel in the river.”

The men started with one accord.

“Ay, no less. It's a perilous service, but not so
perilous as it appears. I happen to know that there
are now not two men on board of the vessel accustomed
to the management of the guns—not fifteen on
board in all. Granger has got us boats in plenty, and
I have conceived a plan by which we shall attack her
on all points. Something of our success will depend
upon their consciousness of weakness. They are
without a commander, and their men accustomed to
fighting are in our woods dead or running, and in no
ability to serve them. The show of numbers, and ten
or a dozen boats with stout men approaching them,
will do much with their fears. We shall thus board
them with advantage; and though I hope not to escape
with all of us unhurt, I am persuaded we shall
be successful without much loss. Master Hugh Grayson
will command three of the boats, Master Walter
Grayson three others, and the rest will be with me.

You have now heard. If, like the doctor here, any of
you object to proceeding, on principle, against this pirate
who has sought the destruction of our people,
well and good—they are at liberty to withdraw, and
we shall look for other men less scrupulous. Who is
ready?”

The confident,—almost careless manner of the
speaker, was of more effect than his language. The
cry was unanimous:

“Lead on—we are ready.”

“I thank you, my merry men, and old England
for ever! Master Hugh Grayson, and you, friend
Walter,—let us counsel here a moment.”

He led them aside, and together they matured the
plan of attack. Then leaving them to parcel off the
men, Harrison stole away for a few moments into the
silent grove where the pastor's family was sheltered.
As we have no business there, we can only conjecture
the motive of his visit. A press of the hand from the
beloved one were much to one about to go upon an
adventure of life and death. He returned in a few
moments with increased alacrity, and led the way to
the boats, eleven in number, which Granger in the
meantime had selected from those employed by the
Indians in crossing the preceding night. They were
small, but sufficiently large for the men apportioned to
each. In their diminutiveness, too, lay much of their
safety from the great guns of the vessel.

Leading the way, the boat of Harrison, followed by
those in his charge, shot ahead of the rest, bearing
down full upon the broadside of the pirate. This was
the most dangerous point of approach. The two
Graysons led their separate force, the one to reach the
opposite side, the other at the stern lights, in order
that the attack should be simultaneous at all vulnerable
places. In this manner the six boats covered the
various assailable points of the vessel; and necessarily,
by dividing their force for the protection of each
quarter, weakened the capacity of the seamen to contend
with them.

The pirate lay at about a mile and a half below
them upon the river—her form in perfect repose—and
even weaker in her force than Harrison had conjectured.
Bewildered with his situation, and unaccustomed
to command, the inferior officer, left in temporary
charge of her by Chorley, had done nothing, and
indeed could do nothing towards the defence of his
vessel. The few men left with him had become refractory;
and with the reputed recklessness of men in
their way of life, had proceeded, during the absence
of Chorley, whom they feared rather than respected,
to all manner of excess. Liquor, freely distributed
by the commanding officer, with the hope to pacify,
had only the effect of stimulating their violence; and
the approach of the assailing party, magnified by their
fears and excesses, found them without energy to resist,
and scarcely ability to fly. The lieutenant did
indeed endeavour to bring them to some order and
show of defence. With his own hand he rigged up a
gun, which he pointed among the approaching boats.
The scattering and whizzing shot would have been
fatal, had the aim been better; but apprehension and
excitement had disturbed too greatly the mental equilibrium
of officer and men alike; and not anticipating
such a result to their adventure, and having no thought
themselves of being attacked where they had come to
be assailants, they fell into a panic from which they
did not seek to recover. The failure of the shot to
injure their enemies completed their apprehension;
and, as the little squadron of Harrison continued to
approach, without fear and without obstruction, the
refractory seamen let down their own boats in the direction
of the opposite shore, and, so considerably in
advance of the Carolinians as to defy pursuit, were
seen by them pulling with all industry towards the Indian
country. A single man, the lieutenant, appeared
on board for a few moments after they had left the
vessel; but whether he remained from choice, or that
they refused to take him with them, was at that time

a mystery to the assailing party. His design may be
guessed at in the sequel.

Despatching the Graysons in pursuit of the flying
pirates, whose number did not exceed ten men, Harrison
brought his boat alongside the vessel, and resolutely
leaped on board. But where was the lieutenant
he had seen but a few minutes before? He called
aloud, and traversed the deck in search of him, but in
vain. He was about to descend to the cabin, when
he felt himself suddenly seized upon by Hector, who,
with looks of excited terror, dragged him forward to
the side of the vessel, and with a directing finger and
a single word, developed their full danger to his master.

“Mossa—de ship da burn—look at de smoke—jump,
mossa, for dear life—jump in de water.” It needed
no second word—they sprang over the side of the vessel
at the same instant that an immense body of dense
sulphureous vapour ascended from below. The river
received them, for their boat had been pushed off, with
a proper precaution, to a little distance. Ere they
were taken up, the catastrophe was over—the explosion
had taken place, and the sky was blackened with
the smoke and fragments of the vessel upon which,
but a few moments before, they had stood in perfect
safety. But where was the lieutenant?—where? He
had been precipitate in his application of the match,
and his desperation found but a single victim in himself!