Chapter XXI: A Terrified Darky

Once safely ashore, I walked silently through the underwood in the direction of the landing.

There was no one there, nothing but the parallelopipedons of cordwood piled up in readiness for the firemen.

The question now arose how I was to get to the house--how to get inside it--without being seen by the negroes of the plantation. I knew that they were up, and stirring about the place. I could hear the murmur of their voices, with now and then the louder baying of a hound. Of course I could not approach the dwelling without being observed--much less get inside of it.

My plight too! My crippled arm which I carried slung in the silk scarf taken from my neck, with my coat hanging loose on my left shoulder. It is true that all this could be concealed under my cloak, but the cloak itself, and the trowsers underneath, were embrowned by the muddy water. In short, my whole person presented such an appearance as to have puzzled an intimate friend in identifying me.

While reflecting on what to do, I heard footsteps coming from the direction of the house. They were made known to me by the rustling of the dry leaves with which the wood-road was thickly covered.

The footfall was flat and heavy, evidently that of a negro.

Soon after I saw the negro himself. It was Jake.

With joy I recognized him--the very man I wanted to see. I could take the old skiffman into my confidence, and by him send a message to his master, to come out to me in the woods. This was the course to be pursued. Jake had not yet discovered me. I did not intend that he should, until I had taken steps to secure against his retreat. Were I to appear to him before he had got fairly upon the ground, he might mistake me for something else than I was, perhaps the spirit of that haunted island, from which I had truly come. In my enfeebled state, he could easily outrun me, and by reaching the house before me, spoil my plans of secrecy. Jake must be captured by stratagem.

Crouching behind one of the cords of firewood, I waited for him to advance. I could see that he was _en route_ for the landing, perhaps to embark in the skiff, which was moored in its usual place.

He passed on without suspecting my presence.

He did not go down to the skiff, but out to a projecting point, upon which the steamboats usually rested their staging-plank.

There he stopped, and looked up the river, as if expecting a boat to come down.

His back was toward me, as I stepped from my place of concealment.

"Jake!" I said, "look this way!"

He turned suddenly, and I now saw that my precaution had not been an idle one. But for having him in a sort of peninsula, myself occupying the isthmus, he would certainly have made good his escape. As it was, he seemed half determined on rushing past me, and reaching the house. He even cast his eyes toward the skiff to see if there was any chance of retreating in that direction.

"Jake!" I said, in a reassuring voice. "What's the matter with you? Don't you know me?"

"Goramity, mass'r!" he gasped out, at length recognizing the man he had so often guided through the swamps. "Wha--wha--wha's comed oba you? Lor' a mercy! You's all kibbered oba wif mud, like a drown rat ob de ribba? 'Splain you'seff, mass'r. What de ole debbil hab been a-happen to ye?"

"Never mind, my good fellow. I have no time for explanations. I want to see your master."

"Come on den. He arn't up yet; but he soon rouse out for you."

"No--no. I want to see him _down here_."

"Down hya!" echoed the darky, with a look of increased astonishment. "A'n't you comin' up to de big house, to get um washed, an' hab ya close bruss'd, an' eat ya breakfass?"

"No--not just yet, not till I've seen your master. And look here, Jake! I don't want any one to know that I am here except your master. You must tell him to come down without delay, and without any one suspecting that you went back to the house on that errand. Put this in your pocket, and let me see that you carry my message discreetly."

In the attempt to murder me I had not been robbed; and I was able to sharpen the zeal, also the intelligence, of my intended messenger by the _douceur_ of a dollar. I gave it less for this, than to impress him with the importance of the errand, and so secure greater caution in its accomplishment.

With some additional instructions I dismissed him; and taking seat upon a log under cover of some underwood, I awaited the coming of Henry Woodley.

I little expected that before seeing him, I should shake hands with his brother Walter. Yet such was the reality!

While sitting upon the log reflecting how much of my story should be told to my late host, and how much for the time kept back, I heard the deep sonorous bark that announces the "high pressure" steamboat. Looking up the river I saw the boat itself, rounding a sharp bend a little way above the landing.

When nearly opposite, her pilot-bell rung, her paddles ceased to move, and she lay to under hissing steam.

Presently a yawl with three men in it, shot out from her stern--two of them rowing, the third evidently a passenger.

I had scarce time to think who it might be, when the bow of the row-boat struck against the bank, and the passenger stepped ashore, carrying a carpet-bag along with him. I recognized the young Tennessean cotton-planter, Walter Woodley.

He did not so easily recognize me, and when he at length discovered who was the mud-bedaubed individual that saluted him, I need scarce say that his astonishment was extreme.

His story was easily told. He was on his way to New Orleans to look after the disposal of his cotton crop; and was merely making stop to see his sister and brother, intending to go on by the next boat.

My tale being more complicated was reserved for a later occasion--until the two brothers could have it at one hearing.

It was not long before we saw Henry, hurrying from the house; Jake following at respectful distance behind him.

The Mississippian was less surprised at seeing his brother than me. He had heard the stoppage signal of the steamer. Walter had been expected to come that day. It was for this the old skiffman had sauntered down to the landing--to see if there were any signs of the boat.

Only Jake himself was in attendance upon Henry. The negro had shown intelligence in the accomplishment of his mission.

By my appearance, Henry Woodley was still more astonished than his brother had been. He had more lately seen me in a different guise. But mingling with his astonishment, he had the suspicions of a sinister cause, arising from antecedents he could remember. Though he could see that something serious had occurred, he did not question me then. He waited till we should get to the house.

About this there was still the same difficulty. I assured him that the servants must not see me. I had my reasons, which I promised to explain afterward.

Both the brothers still wondering, Walter suggested a way. A change of clothes and hat; in short, a disguise. He had his own cloak over his arm, with other apparel in his portmanteau.

Mine to be rolled up, and carried as a parcel by Jake, who was in the secret. My pantaloons to be tucked inside the tops of my boots. A little mud was not remarkable upon the banks of the Mississippi.

Our host would precede us to the house; and on some pretense order the domestics out of the way, so that I might enter unobserved; or, if seen, no one would think otherwise than that I was some stranger, who had come ashore along with their master's brother.

The plan was feasible enough; but even had it been less so, I should have been disposed to adopt it. I was faint, and feeble; my wound paining me from the want of a proper dressing. I was, moreover, hungry, as a man may be who for two nights and a day has not tasted food; for I had not eaten a morsel since the supper that preceded the attempt at assassinating me. I was not loth to get under the hospitable roof of Henry Woodley, and partake of the ample breakfast that I knew would there be spread for me.

A short time served for making the change required; and closely enveloped in Walter Woodley's cloak, with trowsers, backwoods fashion, thrust inside my boots, I entered the plantation house, without exciting any suspicion.

Twenty minutes spent at the toilet, my host assisting, rendered me presentable in the drawing-room, where I was received by his sister with that sort of surprise that caused me a secret gratification. I was gratified by the look given me, in which pleasure at my appearance seemed suddenly to become pain at the sight of my disabled arm.

By the quick paling of her cheek, accompanied by an exclamation of alarm, I felt that Cornelia Woodley had an interest in my fate--something more than a wish for my welfare.