Part 19 (1/2)

”Yes, Dan. There is a notice in the paper that the police have obtained information that I am traveling disguised as a minister, and have a negro servant with me..”

”Who told dem dat?” Dan asked in surprise.

”We can talk about that presently, Dan; the great thing at present is to get away from here. The train for the south starts at ten. Give me the bag, and follow me at a distance. I will get you a ticket for Nashville, and as you pa.s.s me in the station I will hand it to you.

It must not be noticed that we are traveling together. That is the only clew they have got.”

Dan obeyed his instructions. The journey was a long one. The train was slow and stopped frequently; pa.s.sengers got in and out at every station. The morning's news from the various points at which the respective forces were facing each other was the general topic of conversation, and Vincent was interested in seeing how the tone gradually changed as the pa.s.sengers from St. Louis one by one left the train and their places were taken by those of the more southern districts. At first the sentiment expressed had been violently Northern, and there was no dissent from the general chorus of hope and expectation that the South were on their last legs and that the rebellion would shortly be stamped out; but gradually, as the train approached the State of Tennessee, the Unionist opinion, although expressed with even greater force and violence, was by no means universal. Many man read their papers in silence and took no part whatever in the conversation, but Vincent could see from the angry glances which they shot at the speakers that the sentiments uttered were distasteful to them. He himself had scarcely spoken during the whole journey. He had for some time devoted himself to the newspaper, and had then purchased a book from the newsboy who perambulated the cars.

Presently a rough-looking man who had been among the wildest and most violent in his denunciation of the South said, looking at Vincent:

”I see by the papers to-day that one of the cursed rebel officers who gave them the slip at Elmira is traveling in the disguise of a minister. I guess it's mighty unpleasant to know that even if you meet a parson in a train like as not he is a rebel in disguise. Now, mister, may I ask where you have come from and where you are going to?”

”You may ask what you like,” Vincent said quietly; ”but I am certainly not going to answer impertinent questions.”

A hum of approval was heard from several of the pa.s.sengers.

”If you hadn't got that black coat on,” the man said angrily, ”I would put you off the car in no time.”

”Black coat or no black coat,” Vincent said, ”you may find it more difficult than you think. My profession is a peaceful one; but even a peaceful man, if a.s.saulted, may defend himself. You say it's unpleasant to know that if you travel with a man in a black coat he may be a traitor. It's quite as unpleasant to me to know that if I travel with a man in a brown one he may be a notorious ruffian, and may as likely as not have just served his time in a penitentiary.”

Two or three of the pa.s.sengers laughed loudly. The man, starting up, crossed the car to where Vincent was sitting and laid his hand roughly on his shoulder.

”You have got to get out!” he said. ”No man insults Jim Mullens twice.”

”Take your hand off my shoulder,” Vincent said quietly, ”or you will be sorry for it.”

The man s.h.i.+fted his hold to the collar of Vincent's coat amid cries of shame from some of the pa.s.sengers, while the others were silent, even those of his own party objecting to an a.s.sault upon a minister. It was only the fact that the fellow was a notorious local ruffian that prevented their expressing open disapproval of the act.

As the man grasped Vincent's collar with his right hand Vincent saw his left go under his coat toward the pocket in the back of the trousers where revolvers were always carried. In an instant he sprang to his feet, and before the man, who was taken by surprise at the suddenness of the movement, could steady himself, he struck him a tremendous blow between the eyes, and at the same moment, springing at his throat, threw him backward on to the floor of the carriage. As he fell the man drew out his revolver, but Vincent grasped his arm and with a sharp twist wrenched the revolver from his grasp, and leaping up, threw it out of the open window. The ruffian rose to his feat, for a moment half dazed by the violence with which he had fallen, and poured out a string of imprecations upon Vincent. The latter stood calmly awaiting a fresh attack. For a moment the ruffian hesitated, and then, goaded to fury by the taunting laughter of the lookers-on, was about to spring upon him when he was seized by two or three of the pa.s.sengers.

”I reckon you have made a fool enough of yourself already,” one of them said; ”and we are not going to see a minister ill-treated, not if we know it.”

”You need not hold him,” Vincent said. ”It is not because one wears a black coat and is adverse to fighting that one is not able to defend one's self. We all learn the same things at college whether we are going into the church or any other profession. You can let him alone if he really wants any more, which I do not believe. I should be ashamed of myself if I could not punish a ruffian of his kind.”

”Let me get at him!” yelled Mullens; and the men who held him, taking Vincent at his word, released him. He rushed forward, but was received with another tremendous blow on the mouth. He paused a moment in his rush, and Vincent, springing forward, administered another blow upon the same spot, knocking him off his legs on to the floor. On getting up he gave no sign of a desire to renew the conflict. His lips were badly cut and the blood was streaming from his mouth, and he looked at Vincent with an air of absolute bewilderment. The latter, seeing that the conflict was over, quietly resumed his seat; while several of the pa.s.sengers came up to him, and, shaking him warmly by the hand, congratulated him upon having punished his a.s.sailant.

”I wish we had a few more ministers of your sort down this way,”

one said. ”That's the sort of preaching fellows like this understand.

It was well you got his six-shooter out of his hand, for he would have used it as sure as fate. He ought to have been lynched long ago, but since the troubles began these fellows have had all their own way. But look to yourself when he gets out; he belongs to a hand who call themselves Unionists, but who are nothing but plunderers and robbers. If you take my advice, when you get to the end of your journey you will not leave the station, but take a ticket straight back north. I tell you your life won't be safe five minutes when you once get outside the town. They daren't do anything there, for though folks have had to put up with a good deal they wouldn't stand the shooting of a minister; still, outside the town I would not answer for your life for an hour.”

”I have my duties to perform,” Vincent said, ”and I shall certainly carry them through; but I am obliged to you for your advice I can quite understand that ruffian,” and he looked at Mullens, who, with his handkerchief to his mouth, was sitting alone in a corner--for the rest had all drawn away from him in disgust--and glaring ferociously at him, ”will revenge himself if he has the opportunity. However as far as possible I shall be on my guard.”

”At any rate,” the man said, ”I should advise you when you get to Nashville to charge him with a.s.sault. We can all testify that he laid hands on you first. That way he will get locked up for some days anyhow, and you can go away about your business, and he won't know where to find you when he gets out.”

”Thank you--that would be a very good plan; but I might lose a day or two in having to appear against him; I am pressed for time and have some important business on hand and I have no doubt I shall be able to throw him off my track, finish my business, and be off again before he can come across me.”

”Well, I hope no harm will come of it,” the other said. ”I like you, and I never saw any one hit so quickly and so hard. It's a downright pity you are a preacher. My name's John Morrison, and my farm is ten miles from Nashville, on the c.u.mberland River. If you should be going in that direction I should be right glad if you would drop in on me.”

The real reason that decided Vincent against following the advice to give his a.s.sailant in charge was that he feared he himself might be questioned as to the object of his journey and his destination.

The fellow would not improbably say that he believed he was the Confederate officer who was trying to escape in the disguise of a clergyman and that he had therefore tried to arrest him. He could of course give no grounds for the accusation, still questions might be asked which would be impossible for him to answer; and, however plausible a story he might invent, the lawyer whom the fellow would doubtless employ to defend him might suggest that the truth of his statements might be easily tested by the despatch of a telegram, in which case he would be placed in a most awkward situation. It was better to run the risk of trouble with the fellow and his gang than to do anything which might lead to inquiries as to his ident.i.ty.

When the train reached Nashville, Vincent proceeded to an hotel.