Frank on a Gun-Boat Part 13

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," answered Frank.

"How do you relish being a prisoner? Are you not sorry that you ever took up arms against us?"

"No, I am not," answered Frank, indignantly, "You'll have to fight me again, as soon as I get out of this sc.r.a.pe."

"What made you come down here to fight us?"

"Because I thought you needed a good drubbing."

"Well, we haven't had it yet;" said the lieutenant, stroking his moustache. "Why didn't you take Fort Pemberton? You got the worst of it there. We sunk the Ticonderoga."

"Oh, yes," answered Frank, with a sneer, "no doubt of it. But, on the whole, I think you had better tell that to the marines."

"You don't believe it, then! Well, how do you think this war is going to end?"

"Now, see here," said Frank, "I wish you would travel on, and let me alone. I am a prisoner, and in your power; and I don't want to be abused for speaking my mind; for, if I answer your questions at all, I shall say just what I think."

"That is what I like," said the lieutenant. "You need not be afraid to speak your mind freely. Now, tell me, how do you think this struggle will end?"

"There is only one way for it to end, and that is in your subjugation."

"But what is your object in fighting us?"

"To preserve the Union!"

"You're a liar!" shouted the lieutenant. "You're fighting to free the n.i.g.g.e.rs."

"Well, have it your own way," answered Frank. "But, if I'm a liar, you're a gentleman, so take it and go on. You need not ask me any more questions, for I shan't answer them."

The lieutenant muttered something about hanging every Yankee he could catch if he could have his own way, and moved away; and Frank was left to finish his dinner in peace.

That afternoon, a soldier, whose name was Cabot, came and sat down beside Frank, and inquired:

"Didn't you try to escape last night?"

"Yes, but I was discovered."

"You would not have been, if one of our own men hadn't split on you."

"What!" exclaimed Frank, "you don't pretend to say that a Federal soldier was mean enough to inform against me?"

"Yes, I do; and there he stands now." And, as Cabot spoke, he pointed to a tall, hard-featured man standing by the window, looking out into the street. "I slept at the head of the stairs last night, and distinctly heard him tell the guards that you were intending to leave. His name is Bishop, and he belongs to the Thirtieth Maine Regiment. He has for some time past been trying to be allowed to take the oath of allegiance to the South." [Footnote: A fact.]

"What will he do then?" inquired Frank; "go into the rebel army?"

"No, but he could be employed here in the a.r.s.enal, making bullets to kill our own men with."

"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Frank, indignantly; "I didn't suppose there was a man from my own State who could be guilty of such meanness."

"He is mean enough for any thing. Haven't you noticed that every night he comes around through our quarters with a candle?"

"Yes; but I don't know what he does it for."

"Well, he counts us every night before he goes to sleep, and, in fact, comes through our room two or three times in the night, to see that none of us have escaped. He hopes in that manner to gain favor with the rebels. I have told you this, in order that you may look out for him the next time you try to escape."

Frank was astounded at this intelligence, and, at first, he did not believe it. But that evening, about nine o'clock, Bishop came in, as usual, with his candle, and Frank inquired:

"What made you tell the guard that I was going to escape last night?"

The question was asked so suddenly-and in a manner which showed Bishop that Frank was well acquainted with his treachery-that he dared not deny the charge, and he answered:

"Because, when any of our boys escape, the guards are awful hard on those of us that are left."

"That's no excuse at all," answered Frank. "If you were a man, you would have endeavored to escape long ago, instead of staying here and trying to make friends with the enemies of your country. You're a black-hearted scoundrel and traitor! and I tell you, once for all, that if you ever come into my quarters again after dark, you'll never go out alive. We all know about your operations here."

Bishop made no reply, but turned to walk on, when Frank rose to his feet, and exclaimed:

"Hold on, here! you are not going through this room with that candle. Go back instantly where you belong, and don't show your face in here again."

Bishop saw that Frank was in earnest, and, without saying a word, he turned and walked into his quarters.

Frank had a twofold object in talking to him as he did. He wanted to let him know that his fellow-prisoners all knew what he had done, and he wished, also, to deter him from coming into that room again, as he had determined to make another attempt at escape that very night. The traitor had no sooner disappeared than Frank descended the stairs that led down into the hall, at the foot of which there were two guards posted.

"Hallo, Yank!" said one of them, as Frank came down, "I reckon as how you had better travel right back up sta'rs agin, 'cause it's agin orders to 'low you fellers to come down here a'ter dark."

"I know it is," answered Frank; "but it is so awful hot up stairs that I can't stand it. You'll let me stay down here long enough to cool off a little, won't you?"

"Wal," answered the guard, who really seemed to be a kind-hearted fellow, "I reckon as how you mought stay here a minit; but you mustn't stay no longer."

"All right," answered Frank; and he seated himself on the lower step, and talked with the guards until he was informed that it was high time he was "travelin' back up sta'rs."

"Very well," answered Frank, rising to his feet, and stretching himself, "I'll go, if you want me to."

And he did go. With one bound he dashed by the astonished guards, and, before they could fire a shot, he had disappeared in the darkness.

His escape had been accomplished much easier than he had antic.i.p.ated. He had expected at least a shot from the guards, and, perhaps, a struggle with them; for, when he left his quarters, he had determined to escape, or die in the attempt. In a few moments he reached the bushes that lined the road on both sides, and threw himself flat among them, and determined to wait until his pursuers had pa.s.sed on, so that he would be on their trail, instead of having them on his. It was well that he had adopted this precaution, for he had scarcely concealed himself before the roll of a drum announced that the guards were being aroused, and that the pursuit was about to commence; and presently a squad of cavalry dashed rapidly by, and a cras.h.i.+ng in the bushes told him that a party of men were searching the woods for him. As soon as his pursuers were out of hearing, Frank rose to his feet, and ran along the road, close to the bushes, so that, if he heard any one approaching, he would have a place of concealment close at hand. He had made, perhaps, half a mile in this way, when he discovered a man pacing up and down the road, with a musket on his shoulder. He was evidently a picket; and Frank, knowing that his comrades were not far off, drew back into the bushes, out of sight. Which way should he go now? This was a question which he could not answer satisfactorily. There was, doubtless, another picket-post not far off, and if, in going through the woods, he should stumble upon it, he would be shot down before he had a chance for flight. Should he attempt to pa.s.s the sentinel by strategy? This seemed to be the most feasible plan, for he would have a much better chance to escape in running by one man, than risking the shots of half a dozen. Besides, he had no weapon whatever, and he resolved to secure the picket's gun, if possible; so, waiting until his back was turned, he came out of his place of concealment, and approached him.

"Who comes there?" shouted the picket.

"A friend," answered Frank.

"Advance, friend, and give the countersign."

"Never mind the countersign," answered Frank; "I haven't got it. Have you seen any thing of an escaped Yankee prisoner out here?"

"No," answered the rebel, lowering his gun, which he had held at a charge bayonet. "He didn't come around here. But a company of cavalry went by just now, and my relief went with them."

"And left you here alone?" said Frank, who had continued to approach the picket, until he was now within arm's length of him.