‘Cousin Titus!’Eric called, riding from among the bushes and on to the Perryville trail. ‘I’m right pleasured to have come across you-all.’
Bringing his mule to a halt, the tall, lean, sharp-featured Negro stared from Eric to where Captain Douglas Staunce followed him out of the bushes. The Englishman was still armed with his Light Cavalry saber and Colt revolver, but in every other respect he looked exactly like a captain in the United States’ Army. The top of his kepi—which had been brought along as easier than a Burnside hat to carry in concealment—sported the crossed sabers insignia of the Cavalry. The shoulder bars of his short blue ‘uniform jacket’ showed the two pairs of gold bars of a captain.
‘Why howdy, Cousin Eric,’ Titus finally replied, but his attention was mainly directed at Staunce and his sly face showed puzzlement. ‘That Yankee major’s done been madder’n a cat dropped on a hot stove ever since you-all run off. Where’ve you been at?’
‘With Miss Harry, looking for Massa Cable,’ Eric answered, seeing no point in lying about the reason for his departure. ‘We’ve been going from one Yankee camp to another, until we got to some real high up ’n’ important officers. They said for me to fetch this gent back with me.’
‘Who’d he be?’ Titus wanted to know.
‘Name’s Captain Schmidt,’ Eric supplied, following the line which had been suggested to him by the Englishman. ‘He’s wanting to find out just what’s happening on the island.’
‘I’d’ve thought you-all, or Miss Harry could’ve telled him that,’ Titus commented, still studying Staunce rather than his cousin.
‘I have to see for myself,’ the Englishman barked, adopting the harsh, Teutonic accent which he had used when helping to trick the Union agent, Meats. ‘These men might not be what they’ve told you they are.’
‘You-all reckons’s how they might be peckerwoods, mister?’ Titus asked.
‘They just may be,’ Staunce lied, deciding that such a response would help bring the desired result. ‘I’ve been sent with Eric to find out the truth.’
‘Which means we can’t go across the bridge, like we was regular calling-folks,’ Eric went on. ‘So we’d admire to get some help, cousin.’
‘Such as?’ Titus inquired, sounding wary and a little worried.
‘Can you fetch us a boat down to the river’s mouth after dark, so’s we can sneak in the back ways?’
‘Well, I dunno about that—’
‘I don’t reckon Mama Lukie’d be any too pleasured happen she heard you wouldn’t help us, cousin,’ Eric remarked and watched the flicker of anxiety and alarm which passed over the other’s face. ‘Especially as doing it wouldn’t be hard, nor dangerous, and’d help Massa Cable.’
‘How d’you mean?’ Titus countered, scratching his head dubiously. ‘’Bout it not being hard or dangerous, I mean.’
‘Them Yankees, or whatever they be, ain’t stopped you fellers going out on the lake cat fishing, have they?’
‘Well, no. I can’t say’s they has.’
‘Then, happen you gets asked, you’re going cat fishing,’ Eric explained.
‘I reckon I could do that,’ Titus conceded. ‘Tell you what. I’ll bring a boat down to them willows near the river’s mouth just after sundown.’
‘That’ll be real fine, Cousin Titus,’ Eric enthused, although he felt just a trifle surprised that his kinsman had agreed so easily, even allowing for the power of Mama Lukie’s name. ‘We’ll be waiting for you.’
After the lanky Negro had set the mule into motion and was riding away, Staunce and Eric returned to the concealment of the bushes. Although Titus had not known, another pair of eyes had been studying him. Watching from a position which had allowed him to keep the trail under observation, although hidden from all but the most careful scrutiny, Kiowa Cotton stood by his big horse. The sergeant had reverted to wearing his Confederate States’ uniform and had decided that it would be advisable to remain undetected while Staunce and Eric went out to interview the latter’s cousin.
‘We’ve got a boat to take us out to the island after dark,’ Staunce announced. ‘I’ll go with Eric, but you’d better stay in the background, sergeant. Then, if anything goes wrong, you can let Captain Fog know about it.’
‘Yo!’ Kiowa answered, knowing that the Englishman was suggesting a sensible precaution. Then he looked at the Negro. ‘You reckon that jasper can be trusted, Eric?’
‘I reckon he can,’ Eric replied, after a moment’s thought. ‘Cousin Titus don’t look much and I wouldn’t throw dice with him, less’n I’d searched him all over afore we started, but this here’s different. He ain’t going to go crossing Mama Lukie on anything this important. No darkie ever wants to get a conjure woman like her riled at him.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Kiowa admitted and concluded that their mission was going much better than he had hoped.
The journey from the valley in which they had captured the big gun had been uneventful; except that Sergeant Weather’s detail had successfully slipped away from the prisoners and Wilbur Sprigg had caught up with news of Red Blaze’s exploits. The latter had only been a partial relief for Dusty Fog. He had found out that his cousin had not fallen into the Yankees’ hands, but wondered how Red’s flight in the balloon had ended.
While travelling northwards, the party had avoided being seen by, or meeting with, Union soldiers. There had been a few difficulties, most concerned with negotiating uneven terrain, but nothing had occurred to delay them unduly. The main body was now within one day’s travel, at the best speed possible for Pulling Sue and its burden, from Nimrod Lake. Wishing to make contact with the Negroes on the island and, if possible, arrange for them to leave before the big gun was brought on to the scene, it had been decided to send a small detail ahead.
The spin of a coin had decided that Staunce should come, accompanied by Kiowa and Eric. After some discussion, it had been decided that the sergeant should remain clad in Confederate gray. However, Staunce had elected to dress as a member of the Union Army. He had in his possession identity documents to ‘prove’ he was Captain Schmidt, attached to the Adjutant General’s Department, xix which might come in useful in the event of a meeting with Yankee soldiers. Nor would his British-made saber be out of place, for many Federal officers owned such weapons.
On reaching the Fourche la Fave River, in the late afternoon, Staunce and his men had intended to try to find a boat as a means of reaching the island. Before they could do so, the chance meeting with Eric’s cousin appeared to have solved that problem for them.
Keeping in concealment amongst the bushes the three men made their way to the point where the river flowed out of the lake. Still remaining in hiding, they examined the island. Using his field glasses, Staunce watched Titus crossing the bridge. At that distance, the captain could tell only a little of what was happening and saw nothing to alarm or make him suspicious. The lanky Negro was stopped by and talked with the Union sentries, but they displayed no signs that he was mentioning the meeting with his cousin. Passing on, Titus went beyond the Englishman’s range of vision.
Despite keeping a constant watch until the sun had sunk below the western horizon, Staunce and his companions could see nothing to make them think their presence in the area was known. As the bats started to glide through the air, hunting food above the calm waters of the lake, lights began to glow on the island. Cressets were lit, illuminating the bridge and other points, while the windows of the main house and Negroes’ dwellings showed that lamps were burning within.
About an hour of darkness dragged slowly by, with the three men watching the island and the waters of the lake for any indication that Titus was keeping his promise.
‘It looks like he thought better of it,’ Staunce commented.
‘If he did, Mama Lukie’ll make him wish he’d never been born,’ Eric replied. ‘She’s never liked him, ’cause he wants to be butler instead of Paw.’
‘Could be we’re doing him an unjust,’ Kiowa put in, staring across the water. ‘There’s a boat coming.’
‘We’d better keep hidden, just in case he’s bringing friends,’ Staunce suggested, accepting the warning, for he had had numerous examples of the sergeant’s exceptionally keen sight and hearing. ‘I hope you don’t mind us mistrusting your cousin, Eric?’
‘Can’t say’s I do,’ Eric answered. ‘Fact being, no matter how he says he don’t, I know he’s scared of Mama Lukie, or I wouldn’t trust him either.’
A few seconds later, first Eric then Staunce could make out the shape of a large boat moving slowly in their direction. For all their doubts, they soon saw that there was only one man in it. Kiowa faded silently into the darkness before Titus, grunting and gasping with his exertions, brought the bows of the boat into the shallows.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,’ the lanky man said, when his cousin and the Englishman walked forward. ‘Only this here boat’s made for two fellers to row and I’m alone.’
‘It’ll be easier going back,’ Staunce promised and stepped aboard. ‘Eric will be helping you to row.’
‘You mean I’ve got to go back with you?’ Titus yelped, sounding alarmed at the prospect.
‘Why shouldn’t you?’ Eric demanded, eyeing his cousin with suspicion.
‘Well, I was fixing on going down to Salty Annie’s—’ Titus answered.
‘Shucks, that’s no fitten place for a Gawd-fearing, upright young feller like you,’ Eric interrupted. ‘Stay put. Like you said, that boat’s meant for two fellers to row it.’
While Staunce took a seat in the stern, Eric shoved the boat back into deeper water. Boarding it, the young Negro took one of the oars. Reluctantly, Titus helped his cousin to row in the direction of the island. Even in the darkness, Staunce could tell that the lanky man was very nervous. Probably, the captain mused, that was because he lacked Eric’s courage and was frightened of the consequences if he should be caught by the soldiers who occupied Cable Grange.
Guided by Eric, the boat swung across the lake and towards the rear of island. Although the main section of the landing beach was illuminated by a pair of cressets, they were in need of replenishment and threw out little light. Once clear of them, the rest of the shore lay in satisfactory darkness.
Peering between the two Negroes, Staunce sought for any suggestion that they might have been seen. He failed to detect anything to alarm him. If there had been guards assigned to keep watch on the beach, they were not carrying out their duties in an efficient manner. However, Harry had stated that strict attendance to military duties was not a conspicuous virtue among Lyle’s soldiers.
Certainly nobody challenged, or gave other indications of being aware of the boat as it ran silently through the gloom and grounded its bows a short distance from the bank. Climbing out, the men made their way cautiously and watchfully ashore.
‘This way!’ Titus hissed and his voice was throbbing with strain as he darted nervous glances around him. ‘Mama Lukie said for me to fetch you-all to the workshop.’
Without bothering to answer, for it was neither the time nor the place for conversation, Staunce and Eric followed the lanky man towards the big building. Leading the way to a side door near a lean-to which housed the Cables’ carriage and other vehicles, Titus let them precede him through it. The interior of the workshop was sparsely lit by a couple of hanging lamps and it appeared to be deserted.
Concluding that Mama Lukie had not yet arrived, Staunce gave his attention to the second of Eli Cable’s machines. Few details of its appearance could be seen, for it was encased in a box-like iron structure which hid the engine and control platform. The metal sides were pierced with rifle-slits and the Williams Rapid Fire cannons were positioned to fire respectively to the front and the rear. Although the door in the side was open, none of the lamps’ light reached beyond it and Staunce could not make out anything of the interior. For all that, he assumed the machine was practically ready to be put into operation.
‘Where’s Mama Lukie?’ Eric demanded, turning to his cousin when they were about half way to the machine.
‘She’ll be along,’ Titus answered, but his eyes were darting from point to point as if he was expecting somebody to already be present.
‘I don’t like this, Captain St—’ Eric began, returning his gaze to the Englishman.
At that moment, footsteps sounded from the doorway by which the men had entered. They were heavy, hurrying, masculine feet and threw an ominous note into the proceedings. Especially when taken in conjunction with the two figures who jumped from the machine’s doorway.
They were dressed in the uniforms of the United States’ Artillery!
First out, going to the left, was a big, burly, black bearded sergeant with a heavy saber in his right fist. Next, moving to the right, came an equally large enlisted man who carried a Spencer rifle and turned its barrel in Staunce’s direction.
‘I got them here for you, Sergeant Block!’ Titus announced, scuttling forward hurriedly.
‘You bastard!’ Eric shouted and sprang after his cousin.
Bringing up his left hand, Block—who had been promoted to replace the previous sergeant after he had been killed in a quarrel over a card game—thrust Titus to the right. Then he went into a pretty fair lunge with the saber. Unable to halt, Eric advanced to meet the out-driving point. It pierced his left breast and continued to burst out at the rear. Killed instantly, Eric hung on the blade until Block wrenched it out and allowed him to fall.
Although Titus had been thrust to safety, he came between Staunce and the enlisted man’s rifle. Trying to make the most of the chance presented to him, the Englishman flashed his right hand towards the flap of his holster. Just an instant too late, he remembered having heard footsteps coming from behind him. While he had become aware that there was probably another enemy to his rear, the realization, or recollection, had not come quite soon enough.
Having hidden in the lean-to until the men had entered, Private Grilpan was on hand and close enough to prevent the Englishman from drawing a weapon. Darting forward, the soldier swung the butt of his Spencer against the back of Staunce’s head.
For a moment, bright lights seemed to burst inside Staunce’s skull. Then everything went black for him.
‘Oh my Lord!’ Titus croaked, staring horrified at the twitching, gory body of his cousin. ‘You killed him!’
‘So what?’ Block countered calmly.
‘Lordy, lord!’ Titus moaned. ‘I’ve got to get away from here. Mama Lukie—’
‘Shut up, you stupid black bastard!’ Block snarled. ‘Go make sure none of the blacks’ve heard anything, Dasour. Make sure that bastard’s not faking, Gril. I said shut up!’ The last words were directed at the whining, clearly terrified Negro. ‘We’ll not let anything happen to you.’
‘You-all can’t stop what she’ll do to me!’ Titus moaned. No longer did he pretend to have no belief in the powers of the conjure woman. Instead, he was filled with superstitious dread. So much so that he could barely stand, or take his eyes from Eric’s corpse. ‘She’ll put a hex on me and I’ll—’
‘He’s alive, Blocky,’ Grilpan announced, having knelt by Staunce and conducted a perfunctory examination. Unbuckling the officer’s waist belt, he dragged it and its weapons free. ‘That’s how Lyle said for us to get him.’
‘Nobody’s heard nothing, Blocky,’ Dasour called from the door.
‘There, you ignorant black bastard!’ the sergeant raged at the quivering Negro. ‘Nobody heard him yell out. So how’ll she know what’s happened. She reckons this—’ He kicked the corpse contemptuously and started to wipe the blood from his saber on Eric’s clothing— ‘son-of-a-bitch is with the Cable gal.’
‘She—she’ll know!’ Titus insisted.
‘Listen!’ Block snarled, raising the saber so that its point touched the black throat of the cringing man. ‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll fasten some weights to his legs. Then Dasour’ll help you tote him to a boat. You can row him into the lake and drop him over. That way she’ll never find out what happened.’
‘I—I—!’ Titus began.
‘Go and fetch the old whore down to see what we’ve done to her son,’ Block growled over his shoulder.
‘N—no!’ Titus almost screamed, eyes rolling and face wet with perspiration. ‘I’ll do like you say.’
‘I figured you would,’ Block sneered. ‘Lend him a hand, Dasour. Come on, Gril, we’ll haul this bastard up to the house.’
‘What do you reckon Lyle’ll do with him, Blocky?’ Grilpan inquired as they grasped Staunce by the arms and started to drag him from the workshop.
‘I dunno,’ the sergeant admitted. ‘But I’m willing to bet on one thing. No matter who he is, nor what he’s doing here, he won’t leave alive.’
‘You reckon Lyle’ll chance killing him?’ Grilpan asked.
‘I reckon he might at that,’ Block confirmed. ‘He’s got him some mighty big ambitions and he’s not about to let anybody spoil them.’
‘Us knowing so much of what’s been going on,’ Grilpan said thoughtfully. ‘We ought to be able to do pretty well for ourselves after the War.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Block warned. ‘If he offers us anything, we’ll take it. But he’s one bastard I wouldn’t want to try to blackmail.’
Being aware of the kind of man the sergeant was, Grilpan felt impressed and revised his views on the hoped-for life of wealthy ease that he had hoped could be obtained from Lyle.
~*~
Although Titus was shivering, fear lent him the strength to help carry out Block’s orders. His hope that Dasour would not accompany him came about and he wasted no time in rowing his burden away from the island. Once he had reached an area of deep water, he mustered his courage and started to raise the body. Muttering prayers that were incongruous when taken with the evil work he was doing, he tipped his cousin over the side. Watching Eric’s body sink, Titus reached for the oars with trembling hands. He had no intention of returning to the island. Instead, he decided that he would make for the shore close to where he had picked up his victims, leave the boat and head north on foot. Almost as soon as he had stepped ashore, he found himself confronted by the lean figure of a soldier.
‘Howdy,’ greeted Kiowa Cotton and slipped his bowie knife from its sheath. ‘I reckon you and me’d best have us a lil talk.’