77. CHAPTER LXXVII.
A YOUNG SPY.
The last person to leave the school house was Uncle Jimmy
Doubleday, and the old schoolmaster saw that all was
secure before he departed.
He tried all the shutters, set back the benches, and,
finally, took the light and proceeded toward the door.
It was just at this moment that a voice behind him made
him suddenly start:
“Oh, Uncle Jimmy! Uncle Jimmy! do n't lock me in!”
said the voice, and Mr. Paul Effingham appeared from behind
a desk in the corner where this worthy had concealed
himself.
“You!” said Uncle Jimmy, holding up his hands, “you
here, sir?”
“Oh, yes, Uncle Jimmy. Was it wrong? I'm a patriot,
you know, and wanted to hear,” and Mr. Paul approached
the pedagogue with a winning smile, bent upon obtaining a
full pardon.
As for Uncle Jimmy, he gazed with austere surprise upon
the youthful patriot, and then, shaking his head—
“Young man,” he said, “what impelled you to this highly
reprehensible course? Young man, what did you do it for?
More than one man and boy have hung for being spies.
What, sir, was your object?”
“I'm a patriot, you know, Uncle Jimmy,” said the young
spy, “and Jim Crow told me you all were to meet here.”
“You were present all the time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And your parents! your parents! young man, who are
now anxious about you?”
“Oh, I often ride out in the evening, and it's not late.
You know, Uncle Jimmy, I was bound to know every thing,
I was. I'm a patriot,” and Mr. Paul assumed a wheedling
smile which made Uncle Jimmy turn aside his head and
smile, too.
“Young man,” he said, turning again, with austere dignity,
to Paul, “you have acted with extraordinary freedom
on this occasion. If I do not punish you, 't'is from regard
for your worthy parents. Go, sir, and be home immediately;
as for our affairs, we can trust you, and let me
never—”
“Trust me, Uncle Jimmy!” cried Paul, raising his head;
“I should say you can! I'm the captain of the Cornstalk
regiment, sir—I am!” and Paul placed his hand upon his
left hip with great dignity.
“Well, my child,” said Uncle Jimmy, much mollified,
“I doubt not 't is a patriotic company. Go, now, and
never repeat this indiscretion.”
“I'm going right off. Shag's tied under an oak in the
woods,” said Paul; “but I say, Uncle Jimmy.”
“Well, my boy?”
“Is Banks' cross-roads the place of meeting?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“I just wanted to know,” said Paul, mysteriously.
“Good night, Uncle Jimmy. I'm very much obliged to
you for the holiday to-morrow; we all are, and Blossom
says you're very good.”
“She certainly is, Paul.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Paul, putting on his hat; “she's a
real patriot, she is. Our union, Uncle Jimmy, will be a
happy one, and you shall be invited. Now good night, sir.”
With these words Mr. Paul bowed with dignity, and, with
extreme ceremony, disappeared.
Uncle Jimmy looked after him for a moment, and then a
smile diffused itself over the old features.
“Oh, he's a proud one, is Paul,” said Uncle Jimmy.
“With what an air he touched his little hat! how high he
carried his head! how grand he walked! That boy would
march into the cannon's mouth, I think! I have never
seen his equal.”
Having thus expressed his admiration, Uncle Jimmy
locked the school house and proceeded homeward. The
forest was again silent, save for the hooting of a few owls
and the notes of the whippoorwill, and the moon soared
aloft in triumph.
