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I know it am all ober wi' boaf you an' me, and de gal, too but doan let her know it to de lass minute. It be no use to do dat, only make her feel wuss." "Eh bien! all right!" muttered Ben, indiscriminately mingling his French and English phrases. "Pauvre enfant! She shan't know nothin' from me o' what be afore her. Lord a marcy on all o' us! I don't see the raft any more! Whar be it?
"There's one thing I like about Northern papers," said Marcy, when he had read every line he could find that in any way related to the matter that was just then uppermost in his mind. "They always tell the truth. If their people are whipped they don't hesitate to say so, but ours gloss it over and try to make it appear that every fight is a Confederate victory.
She has determined to write music. With an ardor that was ominous of success, Miss Amy Marcy Cheney, after a short preliminary course in harmony, resolved to finish her tuition independently. As an example of the thoroughness that has given her such unimpeachable knowledge of her subject, may be mentioned the fact that she made her own translation of Berlioz and Gavaërt.
Marcy knew then, as well as he did when he afterward read it in one of his papers, that the people of North Carolina were not ardently devoted to the Confederate cause.
My launch is close aboard." She was almost alongside by the time Marcy reached the deck, and five minutes later the officer in command of her again came over the rail; but this time he came alone. There were no blue-jackets with drawn cutlasses at his heels. "I guess you've had luck," were the first words he said. "I don't see the other fellow anywhere." "No, sir.
"You are Union, are you not?" said Marcy, who knew there wasn't a word of truth in the overseer's story. "Of course I am, and so are you. So is Mr. Jack." "Well, if he is, what is that Confederate flag doing in the house?" "It's put there a purpose to fool folks. The niggers don't know what to think about it, but I do; and I think it was a good idee on your part.
Watkins made his extraordinary announcement, was broken at last by Marcy Gray, who exclaimed eagerly: "If that is the man who wants to see me, I hope you will take me to him at once.
The two boys elevated their eye-brows and looked at each other, and it was as much as half a min ate before Mark Goodwin continued: "You would be fooled if you looked anywhere but in the walls for it. So a shovel would be of no use to you. I have been in that cellar when Marcy and I were on better terms than we are now, and I know that the floor is laid in cement.
From the south a shrill whistle is heard, another iron horse sweeping up with people and news from the outside world. Shade-trees rustle in the evening breeze, and their leaves dance, alternately plunged in silvery brightness and transparent night. To-day the heights of Fort Marcy are deserted, bleak by daylight, pale and yet frowning when shines the moon.
"Because they are darkies, and darkies never do what they ought," answered Marcy. "They did not want us to be frightened until the time came, and so they stayed awake and watched while we slept. Good-night." When Marcy went up to his room he took his pillows from the floor, and put them on the bed where they belonged.
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