A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (14 page)

James told her about Polly—what little there was to tell. Of course he had to lie about where and how he met her. His mother seemed happy about the news although she cautioned him about beginning a relationship during such uncertain times. That in itself was strange, James thought. His mother simply never saw anything in a negative way.

The three of them talked until ten o'clock, then it was decided that everyone was ready for bed. Ignoring weak protest, James helped his father up the stairs to his bedroom. They said their goodnights and James went to his own bedroom, anticipating the best night's sleep he'd had in a while. He could not wait to stretch out on the big, comfortable bed. But after lying there for over an hour he was still awake. He was worried about his father and the broken leg he'd suffered. Would he be able to run the business without James's help? How long could the business tolerate the losses at the hands of the Union blockade?

As much as he objected to his father owning slaves, slavery was the only thing he wanted to see destroyed. He wanted the war to end, slavery to be abolished, and the plantation to flourish again with a newly structured labor force. The workers could be white or black as long as they were free men earning a fair wage for their effort. As ideal as it sounded, James knew he was asking for the impossible.

Eventually he drifted off to sleep, but it proved to be a restless one. Bad dreams consumed the night. He was awake by six a.m. and got out of bed without hesitation. Olivia was in the kitchen when he got there, but the coffee wasn't ready yet. The family cook greeted him with her usual cheerful disposition. The two of them talked while they waited for the coffee and she told him a bit more precisely how things were going. By her account, they were a little different than everyone else had led him to believe. He found out that his mother had been feeling poorly for weeks and that Dr. Mead had been coming to see her as well as his father. And as for his broken leg, the doctor had concerns about how it was healing. According to Olivia, his parents had been sleeping later than usual, and when they did rise they never seemed to feel like eating. What's more, they were having trouble getting through their day without frequent periods of rest. James did not like this new report. He didn't understand why they had allowed Ashton and Kate to go to Uncle Joseph's. They should have been home helping their mother and father.

When the coffee was ready he sipped his cup, nibbled a muffin, and considered staying a little longer than he had intended. As he gazed out through the kitchen window he saw two riders come down the main road and turn in towards the house. Sitting his cup on the table, he went out to the veranda to check on the visitors. He was happy to see that it was his Uncle Stanley and another man James recognized as one of his uncle's hired men. “Well bless my soul if it isn't my nephew, the government servant. When did you get home, boy?”

“Yesterday. How are you, Uncle Stanley?”

“I'm doing fine, James, considering.”

“Father said you haven't heard from Clark and Jessie since they left for the army.”

“No,” he said in a disappointed tone. “But I know I will soon. I figure they're pretty busy with their training and they have to be ready now that the real fightin has started. War doesn't allow much time for writing letters.”

“Would you come in for some coffee?”

“I'd sure like to, James, but the fact is we're trackin a runaway that took off sometime last night. He's a buck named Israel and he has an eight year old boy with him. We tracked him with one of my dogs as far as Johnson's Creek then the dog stepped in a beaver trap that somebody left behind. It snapped his leg off above the knee. I had to shoot the damn dog and that buck is still runnin. They were headin this way so we stopped to have a look around.”

“I'm surprised to see that you've taken up the chase personally,” said James.

“Times are changin. Seems like they change more every day. It's this damn war, you know. It's creating a manpower shortage. You can't depend on the local law for help anymore because they have to keep a close watch on what's going on in town. It's hard to tell what we might have to do until this war is over. It could be that things will never get back to normal. Anyhow, we better be on our way if we're going to find those two. That buck can't be that far ahead, not with a small boy. If you don't mind we'll just look around a bit, maybe search the barn before we leave.”

“Help yourself,” James told him. “George should be back there. Ask him if he's seen anything.”

“Much obliged. Will you be home long?”

“Couple of days.”

“I see. Listen, James, maybe it's not my place, but your father told Joseph and me about your conversation after you saw the whipping Bo Sampson took. I mean no disrespect to your father—he does what he thinks is right. It's just that Joseph and I always told him that he shouldn't be keeping the truth from you. You're a Langdon and we're all proud of you. We knew you'd do the right thing. You proved that when you joined the Signal Service.”

James was glad that his uncle couldn't read his mind. There was nothing in it that would have pleased him. It didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter at all. His only reply was, “Thank you, Uncle Stanley.”

“Well, you take care of yourself. Tell your parents hello for me.”

“I will. Give my love to your family.” His uncle waved a hand in reply and the two men rode back to the barn.

Breakfast was ready when James went into the house and his parents had finally come downstairs. He noticed that, as Olivia had said, they did not eat much. Afterwards, he went to the office with his father, and James told him about Uncle Stanley's visit.

“It's another problem that is getting out of hand, James. Since the war began, escape attempts are becoming more common. It is difficult to keep news like that from getting to everybody's ears. The blacks seem to think it's a sign that slavery might come to an end and it's making them restless.”

He said no more as if he suddenly remembered that it was not a comfortable subject to discuss with his son. For a while they talked about business, and at length his father told him that there was some paperwork he needed at the field office. He asked James to ride along. With the bad leg, his father had resorted to driving a buggy for transportation. James insisted that his father stay off his feet; he would ride to the compound and bring back the paperwork.

On the way to the barn, James passed George and discovered that he was just about to leave for Macon to pick up some horseshoes and other supplies. James told him to go ahead; he did not mind saddling Star himself.

As he worked at the task, he felt something fall into his hair from overhead. He reached up to brush the top of his head and discovered some small bits of wheat chaff. He wiped it away and continued with his chore. A moment later he felt the same thing. Taking a step back, he noticed more chaff and dust dropping through a gap in the mow floor. As slowly and quietly as possible, he climbed up the ladder until he could see above it. There were several large piles of straw, side by side, across the width of the mow floor. He watched and listened, and after a couple minutes of nothing, he decided it could be mice. Then, as he started back down the ladder, he saw some straw shift on the side of the pile right in front of him. Cautiously, he stepped out onto the floor and walked over to the pile. Bending down to move some straw aside, he heard a creaking floorboard behind him. When he turned around, he was confronted by a tall, lean black man dressed in slave rags, terror in his face and a pitchfork in his hand. In spite of the potential weapon, the man did not appear to be threatening. It was as if he was waiting to see what James was going to do. Remembering the earlier conversation with Uncle Stanley, James said, “You must be Israel.” He did not answer, but his expression clearly showed that he was surprised to hear James call him by name. “Where is the boy?”

This time he spoke, but not to James. “Boy, get outta dare,” he said.

Again James heard a noise behind him and a small, dark-skinned boy came out of the straw pile, walked passed him keeping plenty of distance, and stood next to Israel. It was a touchy situation to be sure, but James was not afraid. What worried him most was trying to get Israel to trust him before someone happened by or his Uncle Stanley decided to come back. All he could do was to try talking to the frightened man. “I am not armed, Israel, and even if I were you would have nothing to fear from me. In fact, if you'll let me, I'll help you and the boy. My uncle was here searching for you, but he's gone now. Were you here in the barn when it was searched?”

“We wuz under da straw, but da man, he don't look round real good. He jes walks up and down a little. I wuz sho we wuz gonna be caught, but da man don't look round too much.”

“That's good,” said James. “At least for now you're safe.” He took a step toward Israel, but the man raised the pitchfork as a warning. “If I'm going to help you you'll have to put that thing down.”

“Why you wanna help us? No white man helps no slave. We run off from Massa Stanley and he your uncle.”

“That's right, he is. My father owns slaves, too, but they don't see how wrong it is . . . I do. I have helped others escape and I'll help you, too. Look at it this way. If you think I'm lying to you and you take off running I can call for help and we'll catch you in no time. If you manage to kill me with that pitchfork you'll have a head start, but if they catch you then you'll hang immediately. No matter what you do, just getting caught will guarantee you punishment. I'm offering to help you if you'll let me. I think your best choice is to trust me, but you have to decide right now. I have things to attend to and in about two minutes I'm going down that ladder.”

“What den?” said Israel.

“Then you can run and take your chances, but you'll never make it . . . not with the boy.”

Israel lowered the pitchfork and looked at James with appeal in his eyes. “I don't know why I gonna trus you, mister. I guess cause like you says, I guess I can't get away wit da boy. Massa Stanley sold off da boy's mamma when he's jes little and I promise da boy we gonna find his mamma someday. All da time he ax me when is we gonna find his mamma. I know we dasn't run away, but I can't look da boy in da eye no more.”

“So you ran off to try to find the boy's mother?”  

“Yeah, mister, dats it.”

The guilt James had been feeling since coming home was gone. In fact, at that moment, he was sure that all of his deceit would never bother him again. All he felt was sympathy for Israel and the boy. He had promised himself that he would not attempt to free slaves that belonged to his father or his uncles. However, he was caught off guard by this unexpected duty and he was not going to turn his back on it. Fate wills out, he thought. “When did you and the boy eat last?”

“We et nothin since yesterday.”

“I'll take care of that as soon as I can. I have to do something for my father, and when I get back I will bring you food and water. For now, let me show you where I want you to hide.”

James led them to the far corner of the mow to the last pile of straw.

“Hide yourselves between the wall and the straw pile. There is no reason for anyone to come up here anymore today. Even if the man who takes care of the barn needs straw he'll get it from the pile nearest the ladder. I'm just home for a visit. I'll be leaving in a day or two. I'll hide you here and feed you and when I leave I'll find a way to take you and the boy with me.”

James made sure they were well hidden, and then he hurried down the ladder and mounted his horse.

About halfway to the compound he saw two men on horseback coming towards him. When they got closer he could see that it was Uncle Stanley and the hired man who was helping with the search for the runaways. Then James saw something else that made him feel uneasy. Just ahead of the two men, a hound dog trotted along with its nose to the ground. James pulled up as did the other two men. Uncle Stanley got down and took the dog by the collar. “Hello again, James,” said his uncle.

“Any luck?” James asked.

“No, not much. We've covered this area for about ten or fifteen square miles and not a sign of that buck or his boy. I borrowed one of your father's hounds. It's the only way we're gonna find them.”

“Did you talk to George?”

“Yes I did, and my man Jack here looked through the barn.”

“I searched it myself before I left,” said James. “But I didn't find anything.”

“Thank you kindly, James. I guess that buck's headin for Virginia.”

“Virginia?”

“I'm just foolin about,” said his uncle with a chuckle. “I sold his woman about two years ago to a man named Zachary Stark. He's a banker from Petersburg, Virginia. I met him when he was in Macon on business. He was looking for a housemaid so I sold him Israel's woman. But that buck has no idea where she is. Well, we better get moving. We're gonna cut through the woods up here and head back to Johnson's Creek where I lost my dog. We have to stop by my place for a while but should be back at the creek by around midnight to see if we can pick up their trail. We'll run them down.” Then to his hired man, Jack, he said, “Climb down and hand this hound up to me when I get in the saddle. Might as well save his feet a little wear.”

Jack did as he was told then he got back on his horse and the two men headed up the road. James breathed a sigh of relief. Considering the direction his uncle and the hired man took when they left the road, there would be little chance that they would get anywhere near James's house. With his uncle hauling the dog he was even more assured that for the time being Israel and the boy would be safe. But he knew that would change come nightfall. If the hound dog was able to pick up the trail he would lead Uncle Stanley straight to the barn. James would have to get the runaways out of the barn soon after it got dark.