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Read Ebook: The Littlest Rebel by Peple Edward
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Ebook has 1216 lines and 45717 words, and 25 pages
"Whar you gwine?" demanded Uncle Billy, with an accusing finger trembling at the bundle.
The younger man made no reply.
Shifting from one foot to the other the younger man finally broke away from Uncle Billy's eye and tried to pass him by.
At this too truthful thrust Jeems Henry saw that further deceit would be futile and he faced Uncle Billy with sullen resentment.
"What dat?" and Jeems Henry's eyes opened wide with amazement. "What you talkin' 'bout?"
At this smart reply Uncle Billy's disgust overcame him completely and he tossed the rooster on the ground and clutched Jeems Henry by the arm.
"You mighty right, you ain't!" he shouted. "An' ef I was fo' years younger I'd take it outer yo' hide with a carriage whip. Hol' on dar," as Jeems Henry eluded his grasp and began to move away. "Which way you gwine? You hear me? Now den!"
"I gwine up de river," replied Jeems Henry, badgered at last into revealing his plan. Then, after a cautious look around,--"to Chickahominy Swamp," he added in lower tones.
Uncle Billy cocked his ears. Here was news indeed.
"Chickahominy, huh! So de Yankees is up dar, is dey? An' what you think you gwine to do when you git to 'em?"
"Wuck 'roun de camp," replied Jeems Henry with some vagueness.
"Doin' what?" was the relentless query.
"Blackin' de gent'men's boots--an'--an' gittin' paid fer it," Jeems Henry stammered in reply. "It's better'n being a slave, Unc' Billy," he added as he saw the sneer of contempt on the faithful old man's face. "An' ef you wan' sech a crazy ol' fool, you'd come along wid me, too."
So engrossed were both the actors in this drama that they failed to hear the sound of footsteps on the veranda, and it was so that the mistress of the manor found the would-be runaway and the old slave, glaring into each other's eyes and insulting one another volubly.
Mrs. Cary, with her workbasket on her arm, paused at the top of the steps and regarded the angry pair with well-bred surprise.
"It's Jeems Henry; dat's what's de matter," said Uncle Billy, in defense of his agitation. "He's runnin' 'way to de Yankees."
Mrs. Cary stopped short for a moment and then came slowly down the steps.
"Oh, James," she said, unbelievingly. "Is this really true?"
Jeems Henry hung his head and dug at the gravel with his toe.
Still Jeems Henry made no answer and old Uncle Billy saw fit to make a disclosure.
"Stop that!" commanded Mrs. Cary. "You know very well, Uncle Billy, there are no such things as ghosts."
"Nor'm I don't, Miss Hallie," responded Uncle Billy, sticking tenaciously to his point, because he could plainly see Jeems Henry wavering. "'Twas jes las' night I hear one--moanin' 'roun' de smoke house. An' ef I ain't mighty fur wrong, she was smellin' arfter Jeems Henry."
At this wild fabrication, the reason for which she nevertheless appreciated, Mrs. Cary had hard work to hold back a smile, although she promptly reassured the terrified Jeems Henry.
"There now--there--that will do. Nothing of that kind will trouble you, James; you may take my word for it. If you are quite determined to go I shall not try to keep you. But what have you in that bundle?"
"Hi! Hi! Dat's de way to talk!" interrupted Uncle Billy, excitedly foreseeing means to prevent Jeems Henry's departure. "What you got in yo' bundle?"
Jeems Henry lifted his anguished eyes and gazed truthfully at his mistress.
"I ain't got nothin'--what don't b'long to me, Miss Hallie."
"I don't mean that," Mrs. Cary responded kindly. "But you have a long tramp before you. Have you anything to eat?"
"Nor'm, I ain't," and Jeems Henry seemed disturbed.
"Then you'd better come around to the kitchen. We'll see what we can find."
At this unheard-of generosity, Uncle Billy's eyes opened widely and he exploded in remonstrance.
"Now, hol' on dar, Miss Hallie! Hol' on. You ain' got none too much fo' yo'se'f, d'out stuffin' dis yere six-bit rat hole wid waffles an' milasses."
"Yas'm," was the meek response, and Uncle Billy subsided into silence.
With a sigh, Mrs. Cary turned away toward the house. "Well, James, are you coming?"
But Jeems Henry, completely abashed before this miracle of kindness which he did not deserve, decided that it was time for him to be a man.
"Thank you, Miss Hallie," he gulped, "but f'um now on I reckon I gwine take keer of myse'f."
Mrs. Cary, pausing on the bottom step, raised her eyes heavenward in a short prayer that children such as these might somehow be protected from themselves.
"Well, James," she said, when she saw there was nothing more to be done. "I hope you'll be happy and contented. If you are not--come back to us. Perhaps, when the war is over, you'll find things a little more--comfortable. Good-by, James," and she held out her hand.
But this last touch of gentleness was too much for the young mulatto. Although he made an obedient step forward, his feelings overcame him and with an audible snuffle and his hand over his eyes he retreated--then turned his back and plunged through the hedge.
Mrs. Cary sank down on the step and looked as if she, too, would like to cry.
Manfully, Uncle Billy came to her rescue. "Now don't you care, Miss Hallie. He wan' no 'count for plowin' no how."
"Oh, it isn't that, Uncle Billy," Mrs. Cary replied with a low cry of regret. "It isn't the actual loss of help, tho' we need it, goodness knows. But it makes me sad to see them leaving, one by one. They are such children and so helpless--without a master hand."
"No, you dear old thing," Mrs. Cary cried with laughing relief, and her hand rested on his shoulder in a gentle caress. "I'd as soon think of the skies falling. It is just such faithful friends as you who help me to fight the best."
"Um?" said Uncle Billy promptly, not quite understanding.
"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy. "I dunno what yo' talkin' 'bout but I spec' you's right. Yas'm."
Mrs. Cary stopped and looked sharply at something lying on the ground beside the steps. Then she turned and swept the old man with an accusing glance which made him quail.
"Yas'm," replied Uncle Billy, feverishly.
Uncle Billy immediately became the very picture of innocence and ignorance. He looked everywhere but at the helpless rooster.
Mrs. Cary came down from the steps and looked carefully at the unfamiliar bird. No fear that she would not recognize it if it were hers. "Whose is he?" she asked.
Here was a situation which Uncle Billy knew must be handled promptly, and he picked up the rooster and made an attempt to escape. "Down on de low grouns--dis mornin'. Dat's right," he said, as he saw dawning unbelief in his mistress' face. "Now you have to skuse me, Miss Hallie. I got my wuck to do."
"One moment, William," interposed Mrs. Cary, completely unconvinced. "You are sure he was on the low grounds?"
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