Part 14 (2/2)

”'Fore G.o.d, Ma.s.sa Allen,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the black, succeeding by a great effort in finding his voice, ”you done can't sleep in this housn to-night, ef ye do, ye'll be a dead man before morning.”

As may be imagined, this information was not of a very agreeable nature, indefinite as it was; I felt a.s.sured that my informant could be relied on that something had occurred to endanger my safety, and I became impatient to learn what he knew.

”Out with it, Jem,” said I, ”and let me know what it is all about.” I spoke cheerfully and confidently, and the coolness of my manner had the effect of restoring the equilibrium of my sable friend, and, recovering himself with an effort, he began to explain:

”I tell you what it is, Ma.s.sa Allen, and I'se gwan to tell it mighty quick. Ye see, de General hab got a lot of spies up de river at Cairo, a watching of the Link.u.m sogers, and one o' dem fellows jes came in as you were going up stairs. De berry minit dat he seed you he said to de man what was wid him, 'Dat man is 'spicious; I seed him in Cincinnati two weeks ago, and he ain't down here for no good,' and he started right off for de General, to tell him all about it. I kem right up heah, ma.s.sa, and you must git away as fast as ye can.”

This was too important to be ignored. I had no desire to be captured at that time, and I had no doubt of the correctness of the porter's story.

I resolved to act at once upon the suggestion, and to make good my escape before it was too late. My admonitory friend was fearfully in earnest about getting me away, and he quickly volunteered to procure my horse, which I had quartered in close proximity to the hotel, and to furnish me with a guide who would see me safely through the lines and outside of the city. Bidding Jem make all possible haste in his movements, I gathered together my few belongings, and in a few minutes I descended the stairs and made my exit through the rear of the house.

Through the faithfulness of Jem, and the careful guidance of the watchful negro he had provided me with, I was soon riding away from threatened danger and ere morning broke I had proceeded far upon my way.

How much service these faithful blacks had been to me, I did not fully learn until some time afterwards, when I was informed by Timothy Webster, who arrived in Memphis following my departure, and who thus learned the full particulars of the exhausting pursuit of one of Lincoln's spies, who had mysteriously disappeared from the chief hotel, while a guard was being detailed to effect his arrest.

I met the faithful Jem several years later, when he had worked his way as a refugee from his native State and entered the Union lines in Virginia, and he was soon afterwards attached to my force, where he proved his devotion in a manner that was quite convincing. My faithful steed, who had become thoroughly rested after his long journey, bore me safely through this danger, and in due time I entered the State of Mississippi. Here rebellion and disunion were the order of the day, and a widespread determination existed to fight the cause of the South to the bitter end. Stopping one night at Grenada, I pushed on my way to Jackson, and here I resolved to remain a day or two, in order to make a thorough investigation of the place and its surroundings.

Putting up my horse, I engaged quarters for myself at the princ.i.p.al hotel in the city, and feeling very much fatigued with my long journey, I retired early to my room and pa.s.sed a long night in refres.h.i.+ng sleep.

In the morning I arose about five o'clock, as is my general custom. I was feeling in excellent health and spirits; my journey had thus far been fully as successful as I could have desired; and safely concealed about my person I had items of value that would amply repay me for the fatigues I had undergone and the dangers I had pa.s.sed. I had plans of the roads, a description of the country, a pretty correct estimate of the troops and their various locations and conditions, and altogether I felt very well satisfied with myself and with the results of my mission.

As I descended the stairs, I noticed a fine soldierly officer standing in the doorway, and after bidding him a hearty good-morning, I invited him to accompany me to the saloon of the hotel, where we mutually indulged in a decoction as is the universal custom in Southern cities.

After I had obtained my breakfast, it occurred to me that, before attempting any active measures for the day, I owed it to myself to procure the services of a barber for a much-needed shave. I had been traveling for a number of days, and my face had been a stranger to a razor for a long time, and I concluded I would be more presentable if I consulted a tonsorial artist.

This was an unfortunate idea, and I soon had occasion to regret having entertained it for a moment. I would have been far more contented if I had bestowed no thoughts upon my grizzled beard, and allowed nature to take its course with my hirsute appendage.

Entirely unconscious, however, of what was in store for me, I entered the well-fitted saloon of the hotel, and patiently waited my turn to submit myself to the deft fingers of the knight of the razor.

In response to the universal and well-understood call of ”next!” I took my seat in the luxuriously upholstered chair, and in a few minutes my face was covered with the foamy lather applied by the dapper little German into whose hands I had fallen.

I noticed when I sat down that the man wore a puzzled and speculative look, as though he was struggling with some vexing lapse of memory, and as he drew the keen edge of the razor across my face, his eyes were fixed intensely upon my features. His manner annoyed me considerably, and I was at a loss to account for his strange demeanor. Whatever ideas I may have entertained with regard to this singular action were, however, soon set at rest, only to give place to a feeling of unrestful anger.

He had just cleared one side of my face of its stubby growth of hair, when a smile irradiated his face, and with a look of self-satisfied recognition and pride, he addressed me:

”Vy, how do you do, Mr. Bingerdon?”

Had a thunderbolt fallen at my feet I could not have been more perfectly amazed, and for a moment I could scarcely tell whether I was afoot or on horseback. I devoutly wished that I was anywhere than with this Dutch barber, whose memory was so uncomfortably retentive.

I had been too accustomed to sudden surprises, however, to lose my self-control, and I replied to him, with an unmoved face and as stern a voice as I could command:

”I am not Mr. Bingerdon, and I don't know the man.”

”Oh yes, your name is Bingerdon, and you leev in Geecago.”

The face of the German was so good-natured, and he appeared quite delighted at recognizing me, but for myself I was feeling very uncomfortable indeed. I did not know the man, nor what he knew of me. I knew, however, that he was perfectly right about my ident.i.ty, and I knew also that it would be very dangerous for his knowledge to become general.

”I tell you I don't know the man you are speaking of,” said I, sternly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_If you say another word to me, I'll whip you on the spot._” P. 201.]

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