Home > Authors Index > Horatio Alger > Young Captain Jack: The Son of a Soldier > This page
Young Captain Jack: The Son of a Soldier, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
||
Chapter 20. The Storm Of Battle Again |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XX. THE STORM OF BATTLE AGAIN As related in the last chapter, Mrs. Ruthven and Jack had gone to Oldville to do some necessary trading. Arriving at the town, they found all in high excitement. The stores were closed, and only the tavern was open, and here were congregated a number of men who had but lately joined the Confederate ranks. "What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Ruthven of one of the men. "Another battle is on," was the answer. "We are going to drive the Yanks out of this neighborhood." "Another battle!" cried Jack. "Where?" "They are fighting over near Larson's Corners. Can't you hear the shooting?" "I can hear it now--I didn't hear it before." "Do you think they will come this way?" questioned Mrs. Ruthven anxiously. "Aint no telling how matters will turn," answered the man addressed, and then hurried off to join the other newly enlisted soldiers. Soon the soldiers were leaving the town on the double-quick. Jack watched the departure of the men with interest, and then espied Darcy Gilbert running toward him. "Hi, Darcy!" he called out. "Where bound?" "Jack! Just the one I wanted to meet. There's a fight on." "So I hear. I reckon we had better call out the Home Guard again." "By all means. The stores want protection, and so do the homesteads," went on Darcy. "Shall I go down the shore road and call up the boys?" "Yes, and I'll take the Batsford road. If you see Doc Nivers tell him to call up the boys on the mountain road, will you?" "Yes. What of those at Brackett's plantation?" "I'll send Hackett or Purroy after them," answered Jack. The two lads separated, and Jack turned to his foster mother. "Mother, you heard what was said," he began. "You don't object, do you?" "No, Jack; do your duty, as a brave boy should. But be careful--I cannot afford to lose you!" and she wiped away the tears which gathered in her eyes. "You will return home?" "At once." "If I were you I'd place Old Ben on guard at the plantation. I don't believe anybody will harm the place, now it is flying a hospital flag. Certainly the troops under Colonel Stanton won't trouble us." "No; he is a gentleman, and I know I can trust him. Dear Harry! I wish he was not with the Yankee army." "Well, he is fighting according to the dictates of his conscience, so there is no use in finding fault." Mrs. Ruthven kissed Jack tenderly and hurried off, and then with all speed our hero set to work to summon together the lads composing the Home Guard. The task was not difficult, for the firing in the distance--which was gradually coming closer--had aroused everybody. In less than an hour the Home Guard was out in force on the town green, with Jack in command. "Boys, we may have some hot work to do," said the young captain. "I expect everybody to do his best. I trust there is no coward among us." "Not a bit of it!" came back in a shout. "We aint no St. John Ruthvens," whispered one of the young soldiers, but loud enough for a dozen or more to hear. "That's so," answered another. And then he continued, "What a difference between our Jack and his cowardly cousin!" "We are here to defend property more than to take part in any battle," said Jack. "Do not let the guerrillas steal, no matter what side they pretend to be on. A thief is a thief, whether he says he is a Confederate or a Yankee." "That's right!" shouted the old storekeeper, who stood by. A little while later the firing came closer, and presently up the road a cloud of dust was seen. "The Yanks are coming!" was the cry, as a horseman dashed up. "Coming?" repeated several. "Yes, they are in retreat!" A wild shout went up--cut short by the sudden belching forth of cannon on the mountain side above the town. A little later some Federal troops swept into view. "They are coming! Get out of the way!" Soon the soldiers filled the road and the whole of the green. They had been fighting hard and were almost exhausted. Others followed until the streets of the old town were crowded. Then began a systematic retreat northward. "We've got the Yanks on the run!" was the cry. "Give it to 'em, boys!" The rattle of musketry was incessant, and ever and anon came the dull booming of cannon. Soon more Federal troops appeared, and those who had come first moved toward the mountain road. It was a thrilling scene, and Jack longed to take part. But he realized that just now there was nothing for the Home Guard to do. Had they opened fire, the Federal troops would have annihilated them. Nobody molested the stores or town buildings, although the church was hit by several cannon balls. Gradually the fighting shifted to the mountain side, and then in the direction of the Ruthven plantations. "They are moving toward St. John's place," remarked Jack, some time later, to Darcy. "We ought to go over to see that no damage is done there." "St. John ought to take care of the place himself," grumbled Darcy. "He won't join the army or the Home Guard. What does he expect?" Several sided with Darcy, but Jack shook his head. "I am going over. I would like eight or ten to go with me. The others had better remain around town." And so it was arranged. The coming of the Federalists to the plantation owned by Mrs. Mary Ruthven filled St. John with supreme terror. Hearing the firing, the young man got up and dressed himself. He was just finishing when his mother appeared. "St. John, Pompey says the Yankees are coming!" said the mother. "You must arm yourself and try to defend our home." "The Yan--Yankees!" he said, with chattering teeth. "How--how near are they?" "They have passed through the town and are all over the mountain side. Come, do not delay. I have given Pompey a gun and old Louis a pistol. Arm yourself and take charge of them. If we do not protect ourselves, we may all be killed." Shaking so that he could scarcely walk, St. John went below and into the library, where hung a rifle over the chimney piece and also a brace of swords. He got down the rifle and loaded it. Then he strapped the larger of the swords around his waist. "Now you look quite like a soldier," said his mother encouragingly. "I hope you can shoot straight." "I--I don't want to kill--kill anybody," he answered. "If I do, the Yankees will be very--very vindictive." "But you must protect our home!" insisted Mrs. Mary Ruthven. "Come, brace up!" Still trembling, and with a face as white as chalk, St. John walked to the veranda of the homestead. He gazed down the road and saw a body of soldiers approaching, in a cloud of dust and smoke. Then a cannon boomed out, and a ball hit the corner of the house, sending a shower of splinters in all directions. "They have struck the house!" shrieked Mrs. Ruthven. "We shall all be murdered!" "Spare us! spare us!" gasped St. John, as a company of soldiers came up to the mansion on the double-quick. "We have harmed nobody! Spare us!" "You big calf!" cried one of the soldiers. "We aint going to hurt you. Git up from yer knees!" For St. John had indeed fallen upon his knees in his abject terror. "Who--who are you?" "We are Confederates--if you'll only open yer eyes to see. Git up!" And in disgust the Southern soldier pricked St. John's shoulder with his bayonet. The spendthrift let out a yell of fear, rolled over, and dashed into the house, leaving his gun behind him. "St. John, where are you going?" cried his mother, coming after him. "Oh, mother, we are lost!" he wailed. "No, we are not. Go out again, and pick up your gun." "I--I cannot! They will--will shoot me!" he shivered. "But they are our own men, St. John. You are perfectly safe with them." But he would not go, and she left him in the hallway, where he had sunk down on a bench. In one way he was to be pitied, for his fear was beyond his control. Soon the Confederates left the plantation and the Federalists burst into view. The cannon continued to boom forth, and presently came a cry from the rear of the mansion: "Fire! fire! The house is on fire!" The report was true, and as the soldiers left the place up went a large cloud of smoke, followed by the bursting out of flames in several directions. Such was the state of affairs when Jack and his followers reached the roadway in front of the plantation. "The house is on fire!" ejaculated the young captain. "Come, we must put out the flames." "But the enemy----" began one of the other boys. "The Yankees are making for the mountain road and our troops are to the westward. I don't believe either will come this way again. Hurry up, or it will be too late!" Jack ran up to the house with all speed, to meet Mrs. Mary Ruthven on the veranda. "The house--it is doomed!" wailed the lady of the plantation. "Get us all the pails and buckets you have," answered Jack. "And have you a ladder handy?" "There is a ladder in the stable, Jack. Oh, will you help put it out?" "We'll do our best. Is St. John at home?" "Yes," and so speaking, Mrs. Mary Ruthven ran off to arouse her son. "You must help," she said. "Quick, or we will be homeless." "But the--the Yankees?" he asked. "Are gone." She clasped her hands entreatingly. "Oh, St. John, do be a man for once!" "A man? What do you mean, mother?" he cried, leaping up as soon as he heard that the enemy was gone. "I am not afraid. I--I had a sudden attack of pain around my--my heart, that's all." "Then, if it is over, save the house," she answered coldly, and ran off to tell the servants about the pails and buckets. _ |
||