Brother Against Brother; or, The Tompkins Mystery. Read online

  CHAPTER XI.

  MR. TOMPKINS' PERIL.

  Since the rebellion had assumed such proportions, and men, who had madewar with pen and tongue had taken up the sword, Mr. Tompkins had beencareful not to allude to the merits of either cause in his family. Hehad been made to feel the bitterness of the strife that, in dividing theNation, had divided his home. He felt most keenly a parent's agony athaving his two sons in hostile armies. That, at any hour or moment, theymight meet in opposing ranks, was a horrible possibility, which, do whathe would, he could not banish from his mind. He knew, too, that thecompanion of his life held views antagonistic to his own on the questionof the war. So he was reticent on questions on which every one else waseagerly expressing opinions; but in his heart, he was firmly convincedof the justice of the Union cause. Though Mrs. Tompkins, like herhusband, was silent as to her belief, she was as firmly convinced thatthe cause of the South was just. How could she, with all her nativepride and prejudices, look on the subject in any other light? Her sunnyhome, the home of her childhood, the pride of her maturer years, was tobe the field of contest. One side must win. On one side were arrayed thecold, calculating strangers of the North; on the other the warm-hearted,generous people of the South; but what endeared to her, more than anyother circumstance, the Southern cause, was that it was based onprinciples which she believed just and right.

  Americans, more than any other Nation on earth, fight from principle.Other Nations blindly follow king or emperor, regardless of right orwrong, but the American fights from principle approved by his judgmentand based upon his earnest convictions.

  Mr. Tompkins did not reflect on the dangers that might arise to himselffrom visiting two hostile armies. It was the day after his visit to theJunction that he chanced to be at Snagtown. He found the village in astate of excitement in consequence of "a large army of United Statessoldiers" having passed on their way to Wolf Creek. The villagers,unaccustomed to the sight of large bodies of men, put the number ofCaptain Wardle's command at several thousand, when in reality it did notexceed, including his own company and the others with him, one hundredand fifty.

  "Where were they going?" inquired Mr. Tompkins of the village grocer.

  "Dunno," was the reply.

  "Which way did they go?"

  "Towards the Twin Mountains."

  "There is no question as to where they was goin'," said the blacksmith."They was takin' a bee line for the camp on Wolf Creek, and they'regoing to gobble up our boys along there; but although they outnumberthem twenty to one, they'll find the boys game."

  "Where did these troops come from?" asked Mr. Tompkins.

  "From the Junction."

  Mr. Tompkins very well knew that the entire force at the Junction didnot number over four hundred men.

  While the loungers and others were attempting to estimate the number ofthe troops, and discussing the probable result of their visit to WolfCreek, a volley of musketry saluted their astonished ears.

  "There, they are at it!" said the blacksmith, smoking his pipe morevigorously.

  The volley was quickly followed by another, another, and another. Afterthis, for a quarter of an hour, an occasional shot was heard, but nomore regular firing. Various were the conjectures as to the result ofthe battle. A frightened farmer, who had been near the camp at the timeof the attack, came galloping in, declaring that the ground was strewnwith dead bodies; that the Confederates were killed to a man, and otherreports almost as wild, increasing the excitement and alarm of thevillagers.

  To say that Mr. Tompkins did not share the general anxiety would be tosay he was not human. He knew that his youngest son might be lying inthe woods either dead or dying. And Abner--had he accompanied the troopssent to the Junction? A thousand conflicting emotions stirred the heartof the planter, and a double care weighed on his mind. His first impulsewas to go at once to the scene of the conflict; but a moment'sreflection showed him that such a course would be not only dangerous,but foolish. He resolved to return home and await the development offacts in regard to the attack at Wolf Creek.

  Mr. Tompkins found his wife awaiting him on the piazza, and he knew bythe troubled look on her face that she had learned of the attack. Hesaid nothing about it, for a single glance from each explained all.

  "You look wearied, husband," said the wife as he sank into a chair ather side.

  "I am wearied," he replied, the troubled look deepening on his face.

  A moment's silence ensued. Mrs. Tompkins was the first to break it.

  "There has been trouble at the camp on Wolf Creek. I heard the firing."

  "Yes," said the husband, "a body of Union troops passed through Snagtownto-day to attack the camp there. There has been some sharp firing, butnothing definite has been heard of the affair."

  An hour or so later there came a clatter of hoofs down the road, and adozen horsemen paused in front of the gate, opening into the avenue thatled to the house. Mr. Tompkins sent to ascertain what they wanted. Theleader inquired if Mr. Tompkins lived there, and being answered in theaffirmative, he said, with an oath:

  "Well, tell him to come out here."

  The speaker was a thick-set, low-browed man, dressed in homespun gray,and armed with a sword and revolver. His companions, as coarse ashimself, were armed with rifles; each wore the broad-brimmed black hatthen common in the South.

  "Does yer want ter see my master?" asked the negro, his black faceturning almost white, and his frame shaking with apprehension.

  For answer, the leader snatched a holster from his saddle so vehementlythat the darkey needed no other inducement to return with all speed tothe house.

  "What is the matter, Pompey?" asked Mr. Tompkins, as the boy stoodbreathless before him.

  "Oh, gracious, mars, don't know, 'cept they be's a band o' brigantinesas wants to see you down at the gate."

  Mr. Tompkins smiled at Pompey's terror, and rose to go, but Mrs.Tompkins, who did not like the angry gesticulations of the strangers atthe gate, accompanied her husband.

  "Is your name Tompkins" asked the ferocious-looking leader, as theplanter and his wife paused just inside the gate.

  "It is, sir. Whom have I the honor of addressing?" returned Mr.Tompkins.

  "I am Sergeant Strong of the Independent Mounted Volunteers of Jeff.Davis, and I have come here to hang you, sir."

  Mrs. Tompkins gave a scream and clung to her husband.

  "The men are only joking, Camille; can't you see they are only joking?"said Mr. Tompkins, to soothe his terrified wife.

  "You'll find out that we're not joking," said the leader of the band,dismounting and fastening his horse to an ornamental tree on the lawn.Six of his men followed his example, leading their horses inside thegate, and hitching them to the fence or trees.

  "Men what do you mean?" said Mr. Tompkins, who took great pride in hisshrubbery. "I do not allow horses to be tied near my trees."

  "We'll tie you to one of your trees soon and see how you like it, with adance in the air."

  Mrs. Tompkins clung to her husband, half dead with terror, and Irenecame hurrying from the house.

  "Go back, Camille; go back with Irene, and wait for me in the house,"said Mr. Tompkins. "This is nothing serious."

  "Ye'll see, sir, if it ain't somethin' serious," said Sergeant Strong,unstrapping a rope from behind his saddle, and uncoiling it. "The lawsays spies shall suffer death, and we're going to make an example ofyou, sir."

  "I am no spy," returned the planter.

  "Don't suppose I saw ye hangin' 'round our camp, and then shootin' offafter sojers at the Junction to come down and lick us! And they justcome to-day an' cleaned us most all out, and you shall hang for it." Ashe spoke he threw one end of the rope over the projecting branch of alarge maple tree.

  "Those terrible men mean what they say," whispered Irene in Mrs.Tompkins' ear. She had comprehended all in a moment's time. "I will runfor the overseer and the field hands."

  She turned to fly, but her motive was interpreted, and one of the menseiz
ed her around the waist, saying: "No, my purty gal, ye' don't donothin' o' the kind jist yit awhile."

  In vain she struggled to free herself; she was powerless in the man'shands.

  Mrs. Tompkins, completely overcome, had fainted.

  "Now, boys, we are ready; bring him here," said Sergeant Strong.

  Three or four men laid hands on the planter, but he felled theminstantly. They did not expect such resistance from a man of his age,and were not prepared for it. It was not until Mr. Tompkins was stunnedby a blow from the butt of a rifle that he was secured and bound; he wasthen led under the tree and the noose thrown over his neck. Mrs.Tompkins lay still and white on the greensward, and Irene was strugglingwith her captor and screaming for help. No one noticed the horseman whocame dashing furiously down the hill.

  "Up with him!" cried the Sergeant, and he seized the rope. At thismoment the horseman thundered through the open gate, and just as Strongcried, "Now pull all!" the butt of a heavy pistol struck him on thehead, and he fell like a beef under the hammer.

  Then, with his hand still uplifted, he rode toward Irene's captor, butthe fellow had released her and fled; the horseman fired a shot afterthe rapidly retreating figure. Then, turning on the remainder of theband, he asked in a voice of thunder, "What, in heaven's name, does thismean?"

  Mr. Tompkins, for the first time, saw the horseman's face, andrecognized his son, Oleah.

  "Why, it's the Leftenant," stammered one of the men, his teethchattering with fear.

  "What does this mean, I say?" he again demanded.

  "Why, Lieutenant," said one man, who had the rope in his hand when Oleahcame up, "Strong said he was a spy, and he had set the sojers on usto-day, and ordered us to punish him; be we didn't intend to hang him."

  Oleah's hot temper got the better of him, and he would have shotSergeant Strong, who was still insensible, and the other ringleaders, onthe spot, had not Irene and his father interfered. All danger beingover, the servants came flocking to the scene, and Mrs. Tompkins wascarried into the house. These men were a part of Oleah's own company. Heordered them to take the Sergeant, who was beginning to recover, andretire into the woods until he should join them. They obeyed and rodeover the hill, quite crestfallen, conveying their wounded sergeant.

  Oleah briefly told his father of the attack made on their camp. He saidthey were taken by surprise, their forces scattered through the woods,but he believed not one drop of blood had been shed, although Diggs wasmissing, as well as several others. It was thought they had been takenprisoners. Then he again mounted his horse and dashed off, to gather uphis scattered forces.