Chapter IV: Commerce and Sentiment

"Upon my sowl," said O'Halloran, as he and Captain Somerville went forward, the big Irishman leading the way, "I'm afeard I'm tollin' you into a trap."

"How?" asked the captain.

"Why, there's three of the Johnnies comin', sor, an' the ould man an' the gurrul make five."

"Halt!" said the captain, using the word by force of habit. The two paused, and the captain took in the situation at a glance. Then he turned to the big Irishman, with a queer look on his face.

"What is it, sor?"

"I'm in for it now. That is my father yonder, and the young lady is my sister."

"The Divvle an' Tom Walker!" exclaimed O'Halloran. "'Tis quite a family rayanion, sor."

"I don't know whether to make myself known or not. What could have possessed them to stay here? I'll see whether they know me." As they went forward, the captain plucked O'Halloran by the sleeve. "I'll be shot if the Johnny with his arm in the sling isn't my brother."

"I was expectin' it, sor," said the big Irishman, giving matters a humorous turn. "Soon the cousins will be poppin' out from under the bushes."

By this time the two were near enough to the approaching Confederates to carry on a conversation by lifting their voices a little.

"Hello, Johnny," said O'Halloran.

"Hello, Yank," replied Kilpatrick.

"What's the countersign, Johnny?"

"Tobacco. What is it on your side, Yank?"

"Tay an' coffee, Johnny."

"You are mighty right," Kilpatrick exclaimed. "Stack your arms agin a tree."

"The same to you," said O'Halloran.

The Irishman, using his foot as a broom, cleared the dead leaves and twigs from a little space of ground, where he deposited his bundle, and Kilpatrick did the same. John Fambrough, the wounded Confederate, went forward to greet his father and sister, and Lieutenant Clopton went with him. The Squire was not in a good humor.

"I tell you what, John," he said to his son, "I don't like to be harborin' nary side. It's agin' my principles. I don't like this colloguin' an' palaverin' betwixt folks that ought to be by good rights a-knockin' one another on the head. If they want to collogue an' palaver, why don't they go som'ers else?"

The Squire's son tried to explain, but the old gentleman hooted at the explanation. "Come on, Jule, let's go and see what they're up to."

As they approached, the Irishman glanced at Captain Somerville, and saw that he had turned away, cap in hand, to hide his emotion.

"You're just in time," the Irishman said to Squire Fambrough in a bantering tone, "to watch the continding armies. This mite of a Johnny will swindle the Government, if I don't kape me eye on him."

"Is this what you call war?" the Squire inquired sarcastically. "Who axed you to come trespassin' on my land?"

"Oh, we'll put the leaves back where we found them," said Kilpatrick, "if we have to git a furlough."

"Right you are!" said the Irishman.

"It is just a little trading frolic among the boys!" Captain Somerville turned to the old man with a courteous bow. "They will do no harm. I'll answer for that."

"Well, I'll tell you how I feel about it!" Squire Fambrough exclaimed with some warmth. "I'm in here betwixt the hostiles. They ain't nobody here but me an' my daughter. We don't pester nobody, an' we don't want nobody to pester us. One of my sons is in the Union army, I hear tell, an' the other is in the Confederate army when he ain't in the hospital. These boys, you see, found their old daddy a-straddle of the fence, an' one clomb down one leg on the Union side, an' t'other one clomb down t'other leg on the Confederate side."

"That is what I call an interesting situation," said the captain, drawing a long breath. "Perhaps I have seen your Union son."

"Maybe so, maybe so," assented the Squire.

"Perhaps you have seen him yourself since the war began?"

Before the Squire could make any reply, Julia rushed at the captain and threw her arms around his neck, crying, "O brother George, I know you!"

The Squire seemed to be dazed by this discovery. He went towards the captain slowly. The tears streamed down his face and the hand he held out trembled.

"George," he exclaimed, "God A'mighty knows I'm glad to see you!"

O'Halloran and Kilpatrick had paused in the midst of their traffic to watch this scene, but when they saw the gray-haired old man crying and hugging his son, and the young girl clinging to the two, they were confused. O'Halloran turned and kicked his bundles.

"Take all the tay and coffee, you bloody booger! Just give me a pipeful of the weed."

Kilpatrick shook his fist at the big Irishman.

"Take the darned tobacco, you red-mouthed Mickey! What do I want with your tea and coffee?" Then both started to go a little way into the woods. Lieutenant Clopton following. The captain would have called them back, but they wouldn't accept the invitation.

"We are just turnin' our backs, sor, while you hold a family orgie," said O'Halloran. "Me an' this measly Johnny will just go on an' complate the transaction of swappin'."

At this moment Tuck reappeared on the scene. Seeing his young master, he stopped still and looked at him, and then broke out into loud complaints.

"Marse Dave Henry, whar de namer goodness you been? You better come read dish yer letter what yo' ma writes you. I'm gwine tell mistiss she come mighty nigh losin' a likely nigger, an' she'll rake you over de coals, mon."

"Why, howdy, Tuck," exclaimed Lieutenant Clopton. "Ain't you glad to see me?"

"Yasser, I speck I is." The negro spoke in a querulous and somewhat doubtful tone, as he produced a letter from the lining of his hat. "But I'd 'a' been a heap gladder ef I hadn't mighty nigh trapsed all de gladness out'n me."

Young Clopton took the letter and read it with a smile on his lips and a dimness in his eyes. The negro, left to himself, had his attention attracted by the coffee and tobacco lying exposed on the ground. He looked at the display, scratching his head.

"Boss, is dat sho nuff coffee?"

"It is that same," said O'Halloran.

"De ginnywine ole-time coffee?" insisted the negro.

"'Tis nothin' else, simlin-head."

"Marse Dave Henry," the negro yelled, "run here an' look at dish yer ginnywine coffee! Dey's nuff coffee dar fer ter make mistiss happy de balance er her days. Some done spill out!" he exclaimed. "Boss, kin I have dem what's on de groun'?"

"Take 'em," said O'Halloran, "an' much good may they do you."

"One, two, th'ee, fo', fi', sick, sev'n." The negro counted the grains as he picked them up. "O Marse Dave Henry, run here an' look! I got sev'n grains er ginnywine coffee. I'm gwine take um ter mistiss."

The Irishman regarded the negro with curiosity. Then taking the dead branch of a tree he drew a line several yards in length between himself and Kilpatrick.

"D'ye see that line there?" he said to the negro.

"Dat ar mark? Oh, yasser, I sees de mark."

"Very well. On that side of the line you are in slavery--on this side the line you are free."

"Who? Me?"

"Who else but you?"

"I been hear talk er freedom, but I ain't seed 'er yit, an' I dunner how she feel." The negro scratched his head and grinned expectantly.

"'Tis as I tell you," said the Irishman.

"I b'lieve I'll step 'cross an' see how she feel." The negro stepped over the line, and walked up and down as if to test the matter physically. "'Tain't needer no hotter ner no colder on dis side dan what 'tis on dat," he remarked. Then he cried out to his young master: "Look at me, Marse Dave Henry; I'm free now."

"All right." The young man waved his hand without taking his eyes from the letter he was reading.

"He take it mos' too easy fer ter suit me," said the negro. Then he called out to his young master again: "O Marse Dave Henry! Don't you tell mistiss dat I been free, kase she'll take a bresh-broom an' run me off'n de place when I go back home."