MAJOR MALCOLM PROCEEDS TOWARDS WALTON HALL — SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES — THE PARTY CUT THEIR WAY THROUGH THE REBELS AND GAIN THE HOUSE — PREPARATIONS FOR AN ATTACK — THE REBELS ATTEMPT TO STORM THE HOUSE WITH LADDERS AND FIREBRANDS — BEATEN BACK — AN EXPEDITION TO FOLLOW THE REBELS — MAJOR MALCOLM AND HIS PARTY SET OUT — JACK PEMBERTON TRIES TO REACH BELLEVUE — FINDS IT STILL BESIEGED — RETREATS — QUASHIE SENT WITH A MESSAGE TO BELLEVUE — SUCCEEDS IN GETTING IN — A NOVEL FLAG OF DISTRESS HOISTED — A FIERCE ATTACK MADE ON THE HOUSE — THE STOCKADES SET ON FIRE — BLACKS AGAIN DRIVEN BACK — CUDJOE OFFERS TO ABANDON THE SIEGE IF THE OVERSEER IS GIVEN UP — AMMUNITION OF THE DEFENDERS ALMOST EXHAUSTED — THE OVERSEER SHOT — ANOTHER FIERCE ATTACK MADE BY THE BLACKS ON THE HOUSE.

Major Malcolm, influenced by the admiration he felt for Fanny Pemberton — if a deeper feeling had not already inspired him — had set out from Bellevue for the purpose of warning her family of the danger to which they were exposed, and, if he found it necessary, remaining to assist in their defence.  He had intended, immediately he could do so, to ride on to Montego, to bring up such forces as he could collect, and to disperse the rebels wherever they could be found; but from the information his companions gained as they rode along, that large bands of rebels were already in arms in the intermediate country, he feared that he should be unable to force his way through them unless with a stronger party than he now had with him.  He was acting according to his judgment for the best.  He certainly could, not leave his friends at Bellevue without as soon as possible sending them assistance, while most of his present companions were bound to go on to Walton with young Pemberton.  As they pushed forward as fast as their horses could go, they frequently caught sight of negroes, three and four together, who invariably ran away from them.  A few old men and women in a great state of alarm were, however, found in the villages.  They said that the younger men had run off to hide themselves, asserting that they were afraid of the rebels.  But it seemed doubtful whether such was the case, or whether they had gone to join them.  Jack Pemberton, who acted as guide, now told the major that they were approaching Walton Hall, and pointed out a house situated on an eminence, the ground sloping round it.  On one side, up which the road led to the front door, the ascent was more gradual than on the others.

“I am in great hopes, sir, that the rebel negroes, notwithstanding what we heard, have not got here yet,” said Jack Pemberton.  “If they have we must look out for them, for they cannot be far off, and we shall see them as soon as we have passed this wood.”

He led the way to the left round a grove of tall trees, when, in an open space which intervened between the wood and the foot of the hill on which the house stood, a large body of blacks were seen marshalling their forces, evidently preparing to attack the place.  The party of horsemen were soon discovered, and the negroes, three or four hundred in number at least, faced about, and seeing a few white men, with their usual shrieks and shouts advanced to attack them.

“Now, my friends,” exclaimed the major calmly, “we must cut our way through these fellows.  Trust to your swords, keep close together, and follow me.  Forward!” and putting spurs to his horse, he dashed on.  In another minute he was up to the black mass; and striking right and left with his sword, he quickly cleared a broad way for his companions, who, following close at his heels, had scarcely to use their weapons.  A few shots only were fired at them, as the band apparently had but a small supply of muskets or pistols.  The trooper brought up the rear, and as he saw the blacks attempting to close on him, quickly again drove them back.

“On! on!” shouted the major, “make your horses breast the hill, and we shall soon be under shelter.”

Before the negroes had recovered from their astonishment the whole party were up the hill, and the doors being thrown open by those within, who saw their approach, they forced the horses up the broad steps into the house.  Here they were of course heartily welcomed by the planter and his family.

His first question was for his daughter.  “We have had dreadful reports about Bellevue, that it was about to be attacked by the whole army of insurgents; and I was on the point of setting off to assist our friends, when those fellows down there made their appearance,” said Mr Pemberton, a portly, handsome-looking man with a bald head.

The major replied that he had done his best to place the house in a state of defence, and, as no enemy had appeared, that he had come at the request of Miss Pemberton to the relief of Walton, which it was also reported was to be attacked.

“I am afraid, however, as the rebels have favoured us with a visit, that the rumour with regard to Bellevue is also likely to prove true,” said Mr Pemberton, after warmly expressing his gratitude to Major Malcolm.  “But with your assistance we can easily beat off our assailants.  The house has stout walls, and we have, as you see, barricaded the windows and doors.  We are amply provisioned, and have a supply of ammunition, so that we can hold out during a long siege should the insurgents venture to remain in our neighbourhood, which is not, I think, likely.  But perhaps, major, as a soldier, you will think fit to look round the house, and see if we have left any weak points unguarded.”

“Very willingly,” was the answer; and the planter led his visitor through the building.

The front of the house was well fortified, but when they arrived at the back premises Major Malcolm pointed out more than one place through which a subtle enemy might easily find an entrance during the hours of darkness.

“See,” he observed, “they might make their way along under the shelter of that wall and reach this window and door, which might easily be forced with a few strokes of a roughly constructed battering-ram.  I don’t know if these negroes have sense to use such an engine of war, but the knaves with whom I had to do in India would very certainly have made the attempt.”

The place pointed out was accordingly more strongly barricaded, and the major suggested a few other improvements.

“I feel satisfied,” he said at length, “that you are perfectly secure as long as your provisions and ammunition hold out.  My only regret is that Miss Pemberton did not accompany us.  She was more anxious about you than about herself, as we fully believed that Bellevue was sufficiently well fortified to resist any attack the rebels are likely to make against it.”

The worthy planter was much pleased with Major Malcolm, and especially grateful to him for coming to his assistance and bringing back his son.

Of course a watch was kept on the movements of the rebels, sentinels being stationed on the roof at each side of the house to give due notice of their nearer reproach.  They showed no disposition to attack it during the daytime.  It was naturally expected, however, that they would do so at night, should they entertain any hope of success.  It was difficult otherwise to account for their remaining in the neighbourhood.

Major Malcolm expressed his wish to continue his journey, and Mr Hayward was anxious to accompany him, that they might carry out their intention of collecting all the available military and militia for the purpose of attacking the rebels wherever they could be met with.  Mr Pemberton, as might be supposed, was desirous of retaining them.

“My dear sir,” he observed, “it is a very different thing to cut your way up to a fortress in the gallant style you did, and to force a road through an enemy on leaving it.  In the one case, you at once gain shelter, and in the other are open to the pursuit of the foe.  Your party, too, will be diminished, and you may be surrounded by overwhelming numbers, in contending with whom the most determined bravery will not avail.”

Major Malcolm saw the force of this reasoning, and agreed to remain till the following morning.  Besides the book-keepers, overseers, drivers, and other free persons employed on the estate who formed the garrison of the house, there were several guests, planters and their families, from the neighbouring small properties, who had come to Walton for protection, knowing that they could not hold out should they be attacked in their own houses.  They all brought rumours of the massacre of numerous families of whites.  On still more distant estates one or two like Mr Hayward had narrowly escaped with their lives.  Notwithstanding this, when they all assembled round Mr Pemberton’s hospitable board, few of them looked like people who had been exposed to fearful danger, and were at any moment liable to have to fight with a savage foe.  Some of them, it is true, uttered threats of bitter vengeance on the heads of the villainous slaves, as they called the blacks; but they passed the bottle freely, and talked, and even laughed, as if nothing special was happening.

Major Malcolm was surprised at their apparent indifference to danger.

“Carpe diem is my motto,” observed a jovial, bald-headed gentleman, who sat next to him.  “It does not do to think too much of to-morrow. `Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’  Of course our pockets will suffer, but the rebellion will be quickly put down, and all things will come right in the end.”

“I only hope so,” observed the major; but he thought to himself, “If you were to treat your slaves justly, and do your utmost to instruct them, there would be less fear of outbreaks for the future.”  He did not say this aloud, however, for he saw that his neighbour was not in a mood to listen calmly to such a remark.

Major Malcolm was more pleased with the lady of the house than with any of her guests.  He had a good deal of conversation with her, the most interesting subject being her daughter, of whom she was justly proud, and she expatiated on her perfections with all a mother’s fondness.  He won the good opinion both of his host and hostess, who begged that he would again favour them with a visit on the first opportunity, when they hoped that the country would be restored to peace.

The evening passed away quietly.  So little was an attack expected that some of the guests proposed retiring to their rooms.

“You will run the risk, my friends, of being roused up in an unpleasant manner,” said their host in a warning voice; “the very silence of the rebels is, I suspect, ominous of their evil intentions.”

Major Malcolm agreed with him, and advised that a vigilant watch should be kept, offering to take command of the fortress.  Jack begged that he might be allowed to act as his aide-de-camp.  Like a good officer as he was, the major made frequent rounds of the house, seeing that the sentries kept a good look-out, and again examining every portion of the building to assure himself that no point remained unguarded through which an enemy might force his way.  He went also, occasionally, on the roof, whence he could command an extensive view over the country.  On each occasion he turned his glance especially in the direction of Bellevue, though he discovered nothing to cause him anxiety.  He was about to descend, when, as he looked down into the valley, it appeared to him that a number of dark objects were creeping up the hill.  He watched them till he was convinced that they were men.

Slowly and cautiously they came along.  He had no longer any doubt that the house was about to be attacked.  He hurried down and, going from room to room, warned the defenders to be prepared, while he sent Jack Pemberton to other parts of the building.  As he looked out through a loophole on the side which the rebels were approaching, he saw that several carried ladders, and others bundles of firewood, though, for fear of betraying themselves, they had no lighted torches.

“Mr Pemberton,” he said to his young aide-de-camp, “tell the people to aim at the fellows with the ladders, and not to trouble themselves about the others — they can do no harm.  The moment a man touches a ladder, shoot him down.  Say those are my orders — they must be obeyed.”

The importance of the advice was soon evident.  The insurgents, knowing that they must be discovered, now rushed forward, uttering fierce shrieks and yells.  As they did so they lifted up the ladders with the intention of placing them against the walls, their object being evidently to throw the brands on the roof and set it in flames.  Without waiting for further orders, the defenders fired, and every man carrying a ladder was shot down.  Others took their places, most of whom shared the same fate; but one succeeded in fixing his ladder, a dozen others following fast at his heels, and instantly began to ascend.

Scarcely, however, had the first got half-way up, carrying a torch in his hand, than a shot struck him.  He fell headlong among his companions.  Another, notwithstanding, made the attempt, followed by a third; but they both met with the same fate, being exposed to the aim of the two best marksmen in the fortress, the rest of the assailants in the mean time firing away, aiming at the loopholes and roof.  As few of them had before handled muskets, their bullets flew wide of the mark, while the garrison kept pouring down a continual fire among them.  Even more experienced troops might have retired before such a reception.

The blacks showed the most desperate courage, and it was some time before they discovered that their attempt was hopeless.  A few of them, indeed, again endeavoured to place the ladders against the wall, but as all of those who did so were shot, the rest, finding that so many of their companions had fallen, were seized with a panic and began to rush down the hill.  The braver fellows among them lifted the slain and wounded, and, in spite of the bullets which flew about their ears, carried them off.

“If all the insurgents behave as these rascals have done it will be no easy task to subdue them,” observed Major Malcolm to his host.

Not a single person in the house had been injured, but they could not help acknowledging that the case would have been very different had they met the insurgents in the open field, for it would have been no easy task to drive back a host of savages who displayed the desperate courage their assailants had done, as Major Malcolm was afterwards to find.

No one expected that another attack would be made during the night, but of course a watch was kept as before, though many of the gentlemen threw themselves on the cane sofas and chairs, or went to sleep on the ground overcome with fatigue.

The next morning, when daylight enabled them to discern objects at a distance, not a black could be seen.  Jack Pemberton and several other young men, on this, volunteered to go out and ascertain if the rebels had really retreated.  They had been gone for some time, and fears began to be entertained that they had been cut off.  However, they at length were seen coming up the hill.  They gave the satisfactory report that not a black was to be discovered in the neighbourhood.  “In what direction have they gone?” asked Major Malcolm.  They had not thought of making any observations on the subject.  “Then I must beg you and a few of your friends to accompany me that we may ascertain the point,” he said.  Jack would go with the greatest pleasure.

They set out, and in a short time Major Malcolm expressed his opinion that they had gone northward, in the direction of Bellevue.  He returned to the house and begged Mr Pemberton to allow him to take as many volunteers as he could obtain, that he might push his way on to Montego, to gather as large a force as could be collected, in order to attack the rebels without delay.  Mr Hayward assured him that it would be hopeless to gain assistance in any other direction, as from certain information he had obtained the whole of the intermediate country was in a state of rebellion.  Jack was very eager to go, but this his father would not allow.  Six other young men, for whom horses could be provided, volunteered, and they, with the major’s servant and Mr Hayward’s follower, made up a party of ten.

After a hurried breakfast they set off, and were seen from the house galloping rapidly to the westward.

The remainder of the day passed off quietly.  Not a negro was seen moving about in the neighbourhood of the house, and, except that here and there blackened patches showed that the cane-fields had been visited by the ruthless bands of the insurgents, there were no signs visible of the fearful rebellion raging throughout the country.  Mr Pemberton, however, had become very anxious to obtain news from Bellevue, for although Major Malcolm had assured him that the house was well fortified, he was alarmed at hearing that the blacks who had so fiercely assaulted Walton had gone off in that direction.  Bellevue, from its position and the character of the house, was less capable of offering an effectual resistance to a determined attack than Walton, and should the rebel slaves have resolved on its destruction, he dreaded lest they might by persevering attacks accomplish their object.

On going to the roof of the house he could see, both to the northward and eastward, dense columns of smoke ascending to the blue sky — too clear evidence that the insurgents had possession of the country, and were burning the plantations and residences of the settlers.  Several of his guests thus witnessed the destruction of their homes and property, while they gave vent to their bitter feelings by uttering threats of vengeance, though they had ample cause to be thankful that they had escaped with their lives.

Proposals were made by the more daring to sally forth and disperse the rebels, but the greater number thought it wiser to remain in a place of safety.  Mr Pemberton himself was unwilling to leave the house without defenders, lest some fresh bands, discovering that it was unguarded, might visit it during his absence.

No news had come from Bellevue, and at length his son Jack and three other men volunteered to make their way very cautiously in that direction and ascertain the state of affairs.  If the rebel slaves were attacking the house, or were in the neighbourhood, so that they could not approach it without the risk of being cut off, they were to return; but if not, they had leave to go on and visit their friends, and report that all had gone well at Walton.

“Remember, my lads, you are to be cautious and not expose yourselves to the risk of losing your lives by getting between the savages and the road by which you can retreat to this house.  Discretion, in this case, is the better part of valour.  By the time you return we may perhaps have obtained further assistance, and we will then, if Bellevue is really besieged, do our best to go to the relief of our friends.  The slaves are, I suspect, especially bent on revenging themselves on Thompson, the overseer, who is looked upon by them as a hard man and a severe taskmaster, though our friend Twigg thinks well of him, and is satisfied with his management of the estate.  A slave who has become one of their leaders — Cudjoe, I am told by our people, is his name — was flogged some time back by Thompson, and the savage has ever since threatened to revenge himself on the overseer.  This makes me fear that they will persevere longer than under other circumstances they might have done, but if our friends at Bellevue can hold out it will be an advantage, by occupying the slaves who would otherwise have been roaming through the country and devastating other estates.  You may, Jack, if you have an opportunity, warn Thompson to beware of Cudjoe when the rest of the slaves have been again brought under subjection, for the savage is not likely to forego his desire of vengeance, even should the overseer escape at this time.”

These remarks were made while Jack was preparing for his expedition.  He promised strictly to obey his father’s directions.

He and his friends, well armed, forthwith set out.  They were all spirited young men, who had been educated in England, but had been long enough in the country to be well acquainted with its ways, and had also been accustomed to field sports.  They were thus admirably suited for the task they had undertaken.  Well aware of the danger they were running, they advanced cautiously, keeping as much as possible under cover of the hedges and trees, and looking out well ahead that they might not suddenly come upon the enemy.  They had wisely agreed to keep shoulder to shoulder, or back to back, as the case might be, should they be attacked, and being stout-hearted and confident in the use of their weapons, they had little doubt that they should be able to beat back any number of assailants.

The sun struck down with tremendous force in the open places they had to pass, but they were lightly clad, with thick straw hats on their heads, and none of them cared much for the heat.  When passing across the open country they pushed on rapidly, but moved forward more leisurely in the shade.  As they avoided the villages, they met no one.  The whole country indeed had, it seemed, suddenly become a desert.  They wished to avoid falling in with any slaves who might give notice to the rebels of their whereabouts, and also had resolved not to rely on any reports they might hear, but to trust only to their own observations.

It took them nearly two hours, from the circuitous route they followed, to reach the neighbourhood of Bellevue.  They now proceeded more cautiously.  All seemed quiet.  No shots were heard, and they began to hope that they should reach their friends without difficulty.

“We must not trust to appearances, however,” observed Jack.  “The rebels may possibly be investing the house, and, judging from our own experience, they may yet not venture to attack it in the daytime.  You lie down under these bushes while I creep forward, as from the top of this rise I shall get a sight of Bellevue, and be able to ascertain more accurately the state of affairs.”

Saying this, while his companions followed his advice, Jack made his way to the top of the hill, bending low, that should any of the enemy be posted in the intermediate valley, he might run less risk of being seen.  At length the house came in view.  All seemed quiet around it, but he was still not perfectly satisfied.  He advanced a little further towards a bush, through the branches of which he could see into the valley without exposing himself.  As he bent aside the boughs with the barrel of his musket to look through them more easily, he caught sight of a number of black heads moving here and there some five or six hundred yards below him.  There could be no doubt that they were rebels, and that they were, after their fashion, laying siege to the house.

Presently he saw a party issue from the stockades, and he thought even at that distance he could recognise Archie Sandys.  The leaders were white men, and were followed by several blacks with buckets on their heads.  He at once divined their object.  For some time, apparently, they were not discovered by the rebels, but presently one of the latter, doing duty as a sentinel in advance of the rest, saw what was taking place.  He giving notice to the others, a number of them started forth, and, dashing up the hill, began firing away at the white men.  Jack witnessed the gallant way in which Archie defended his followers, and had the satisfaction of seeing them regain their fortifications without any of them apparently being wounded.

While this scene was being enacted, as the rebels’ eyes were turned toward the house, he was able, without much risk, to creep forward and get a more complete view of their position.

“We should not have the slightest chance of getting in, that’s very certain,” he said to himself; “but if we remain here, we shall run a great risk of being caught.”  And, not without some fear that he might be seen by the blacks, who now covered the opposite hill, he hurried back to his friends.

They agreed with him that the sooner they were off the better, but that if they could collect a sufficient force of white men and trustworthy mulattoes, they might without difficulty out their way through the undisciplined band of savages, with some prospect also of putting them to flight.

“In my opinion, if they are attacked in a determined way, they will very quickly take to their heels,” said Jack.

Their return occupied a shorter time than they had before taken, for, as they cared less for being seen, they were able to follow the highroad.  On their way, about a mile distant from Walton, they passed through a village which appeared to be entirely deserted.  Looking into one of the huts, however, they saw a boy of about twelve years old sitting on the ground, crying and looking very miserable.

“What is the matter?” asked Jack, who recognised him as the son of one of the Walton slaves.

“Me out in de fields, and when come back find fader gone, me not know where, but s’pose rebels take him away to kill him, for dey kill eberybody else who not get off and hide,” answered the boy, who was evidently an unusually intelligent little fellow.

“Well, Quashie,” said Jack, who was kind-hearted as well as brave, “you had better come along with us, and we will take care of you till father comes back — as I hope he will.  Where is your mother?”

“Mother lib wid Massa Twigg — she call Martha,” he answered.

“Oh, then I know her.  She nurses the children.  All right, Quashie.  Cheer up; you shall have something to eat as soon as we get back,” said Jack.

Quashie started up, and accompanied the young gentleman without further questioning.

Glad as Mr Pemberton was to get his son and young friends back again, he was made very anxious on hearing of the state of affairs at Bellevue.

“The rebels are evidently bent on taking the place, and from the desperate character I hear of Cudjoe, I fear that he will not give up the enterprise as long as he has a hope of success,” said Mr Pemberton.

The matter was talked over by himself and the other planters.  Before any desperate enterprise was undertaken to afford relief to their friends, it was important to ascertain how much they required it.

“I will try what can be done by means of Quashie, the boy Jack just now brought in,” said Mr Pemberton.  “He would make his way where a man would fail; and as his mother is a slave of the Twiggs, he can, I should think, be trusted, for I will let him understand she will be benefited as well as her master and mistress.”

“A good idea, perhaps.  Not that I fancy these slaves have any natural affection,” observed one of the party.

“I do not agree with you there, my friend,” observed Mr Pemberton.  “Both fathers and mothers are very fond of their children in their way; and I will answer for it that Quashie will manage to carry any message we may send, and bring back an answer safely.”

Quashie being called, he without hesitation undertook to do what was required of him.  He begged only that he might take his own time and mode of proceeding, and grinned when some one remarked that he might be caught by the rebels.

“Me git in and me come back, neber fear,” he answered.

The only question was how to send a note.  Mrs Pemberton proposed writing what was necessary, and, the paper being rolled up tightly and covered with black stuff, to conceal it among his thick crop of woolly hair.  “Were he caught, the rebels might search him thoroughly and not discover it in the way that I will manage,” she said.

Quashie was perfectly content with the proposal, and was evidently proud of the confidence placed in him.  He confessed that he had heard of the intended outbreak, and had given his mother the information which she had sent to her master and mistress.

Quashie, having had a good supper, declared that he should be ready to set out that night if required; but as it was hoped that during the next day a plan might be organised more effectually to help their friends than could be then done, it was agreed that it would be better to wait till the following evening.  From Jack’s report they were at present, at all events, in no distress, and were likely to hold out against any attack.

Another night went by, and the next morning Jack and his companions expressed their wish to set off again to ascertain how their friends at Bellevue were getting on; but Mr Pemberton would not allow them to go.  The risk, he said, was far too great for the advantage to be obtained.  They could render no assistance, and would run a great chance of falling into the hands of the rebels and being put to death.  In the course of the day, he hoped that Major Malcolm, with some troops, or at all events a body of militia, would appear, and that their first task would be to attack the rebels besieging Bellevue and relieve their friends.  In that case, it would not be safe to leave Walton without a garrison, as the fugitives, if they found it unguarded as they made their way to the mountains, would to a certainty in revenge destroy it.  “We must wait patiently till the evening, and then Quashie shall go and bring us word what they are about,” he added.  He spoke with more confidence perhaps than he felt, yet on one point he had made up his mind, that he would not allow his son to run the risk of losing his life.

The day drew drearily on.  The feelings of the ruined inmates of the mansion can better be imagined than described.  Their friends slaughtered, their crops and houses destroyed, and their slaves (the most valuable part of their possessions) in revolt, and, if not killed, possibly never again to be reclaimed — what the future had in store for them no one could say.  The more confident asserted that the rebellion would quickly be quelled, but others thought that the slaves, joined by the maroons and other free coloured and black people, might overrun the country, and compel all the whites who might escape slaughter to quit it for ever.

Mr Pemberton laughed at such a notion.  “Depend on it, as soon as the troops and militia can be collected, the slaves will fly from them as chaff before the wind, or will, if they resist, to a man be cut to pieces,” he observed.  “It will be a bad look-out for us, I confess, for we shall become bankrupt; but our estates will remain, and we must procure fresh labourers from other countries, Irish or Germans, who would stand the climate almost as well as blacks, and do twice as much work.”

Though the worthy planter talked and went about trying to keep up the spirits of others, he felt his own sinking when darkness came on, and no troops appeared.

Quashie was sent for, and Mrs Pemberton secured the note, done up, as proposed, in his woolly head.  She had written it at her husband’s dictation, in a small, delicate hand, so that it occupied little more space than a quill.

It mentioned Major Malcolm’s arrival, the attack and defence of the house, the flight of the rebels, the fact that the major had gone to collect troops who might be expected every hour, Jack’s visit to the neighbourhood of Bellevue, and his having witnessed Archie’s expedition to obtain water.  “We conclude,” it continued, “that you are well able to hold out; but if not, send us word, and, should the military fail to arrive, we will make an expedition to your relief, and will advise you to sally forth and cut your way through the savages.  They will not for a moment stand our united attack, and there will be but little or no danger in the undertaking.  We cannot leave Walton unprotected, but we can muster twenty well-armed men.  Be prepared, and directly you see our signal — a flag flying on the top of the hill — dash out of the house, with the women and children in your centre.  Should the rebels threaten to attack you, we will charge down upon them; if not, we will be ready to protect your retreat, and keep the savages at bay till you have got to a safe distance.  I propose this in the possibility of your not having a sufficient store of provisions, or being unable to obtain water to stand a long siege.  We have an ample supply of food for several weeks.  Our love to Fanny.  We were much pleased with Major Malcolm, who appears to be greatly struck by her.”

Quashie evidently felt the importance of the message confided to him, and was proportionately proud.

“Neber fear, massa, I git into de house and out again, and no one see me,” he said, strutting about after the note had been concealed in the top of his woolly pate.  “Look here, massa, you no see it now, or neber anybody else till moder get it.”

“Well, then, away you go, my boy, and a dollar shall be yours when you come back,” said Mr Pemberton.

“Ki! dat’s good,” exclaimed Quashie, eager to be off.

The planter took him down to a back-door, by which he let him out that he might creep away, lest any prowling foe might be watching the house; not that there was much risk of that, or Jack and his friends would not have performed their expedition so securely.

Quashie ran on along the well-accustomed road till he got near his own village, when, taking off the few clothes he wore, he did them up in a bundle and stowed them away in the hollow of a tree to be ready for his return, leaving only a piece of black stuff round his waist, with which Mrs Pemberton had supplied him at his request.  The sharpest of eyes only could have detected Quashie as he crept along under the hedges:  he felt confident there was very little risk of his being discovered.  Few of his age could outstrip Quashie, and making good use of his legs, he got over the ground in a third of the time Jack Pemberton had taken to accomplish the distance.  He now moved more cautiously, stopping to listen every now and then for the sound of voices which might warn him of the whereabouts of the rebels.

At first he began to fancy that they must have decamped.  Creeping down the hill, he suddenly found himself close to a group of men lying stretched on the ground fast asleep, while as he peered over a bush he observed others in the same position.  He stole silently back, making his way to the left at a cautious distance from the besieging force, if they could be dignified by such a title.  Presently, again he drew near, looking out for some opening in their line through which he might make his way, but they appeared to have extended themselves so as completely to encircle the house.  Again and again he got up close to the line; still he was not to be daunted.  He had undertaken to get through them, and he intended by some means or other to do so.  Suddenly he heard a shot, followed by several others.  The blacks close to him started to their feet, and hurried off in the direction from whence the shot came.

Now was his opportunity.  He darted forward down the hill, springing up the opposite declivity like a hunted hare, at the same time keeping his body almost bent to the ground; and before he was perceived, he was close to the chevaux-de-frise.  In vain, however, he endeavoured to find his way through it.  The garrison were too much occupied with what was going forward on the other side of the house to observe him; indeed, his small, black, lithe body could scarcely have been perceived.  He ran on like a mouse, looking for a hole through which to escape, and considering whether he should not cry out for assistance and ask to be taken in.  At last he got to an opening, and in he darted, just as two men rushed up from the lower ground, no one in the darkness perceiving him.  As soon as the men were in the inside, several persons filled up the gap, and he made his way undiscovered within the palisades and through the door of the house.

The first person he met was Martha, who had come out to learn what was going forward.  Their delight was mutual.  Tears streamed from the eyes of his mother as she pressed him to her heart.  The planter who had lately expressed an opposite opinion would have acknowledged that the slaves, degraded as they were, were capable of human affection.

His errand was soon told, and Martha, proud of his performance, took him to her master, who was naturally very much surprised at seeing him.

“I bring message from Massa Pemberton,” he said.

“Where is it?” asked Mr Twigg.

“Here, massa,” answered Quashie, presenting his woolly pate.  “You take it out, please.”

Martha, however, performed the operation; and the note being eagerly read, a consultation was held on its contents, which considerably raised the spirits of the besieged party, lowered as they had been by the loss of Archie Sandys.

None of them, however, were disposed to attempt cutting their way through the rebels.  Lieutenant Belt was almost disabled — for though, in spite of much suffering, he still continued the command in the fortress, he could not use his sword — while the gallant young Scotchman was lost to them.  Mr Ferris was willing to make the attempt if others wished it, but he feared the risk to which the ladies would be exposed; and it was finally determined to hold out till the arrival of the troops.

“The small quantity of yams we have secured will not last us long,” observed Mr Twigg, “and we must remember that we are threatened with starvation, as well as with another attack from the savages.”

“We have food sufficient for another day,” remarked Lieutenant Belt; “before the end of that time, relief may be sent to us.”

“But should it not come, what then are we to do?” inquired Mr Ferris.

“Act as our friend Pemberton suggests,” said Mr Twigg.  “To-morrow evening, as soon as it is dark, we will send off Quashie.  We must take care in the mean time that the rebels do not see him, or they will know that by some means or other he got in, and will be on the watch for him.  We may depend on Pemberton’s carrying out his plan, and I should advise that the attempt be made in the night-time.”

Quashie was rather disappointed at finding that he was not to set off at once, as he was eager to get his dollar.  His mother consoled him by assuring him that he would be allowed to go the following night, and Mr Twigg made him perfectly happy by at once giving him a dollar, so that he would become the possessor of two dollars, should he accomplish his return journey.

The garrison were not allowed to rest in quiet.  The blacks, growing impatient, made several attempts to surprise them, but, in consequence of the severe punishment they had received, were more wary than at first.  Each time, on finding that they were discovered, they retreated so rapidly that few, if any, of them were shot.

Morning at length arrived; the blacks had retreated to their cover, and, except that a few shots were at times wantonly fired from a distance at the house, the day went on as the previous ones had done.  Much as they wanted food, it would be evidently a dangerous undertaking to attempt procuring it from the yam ground.

The arrival of Major Malcolm was eagerly looked for, but in vain, and it was resolved to send Quashie off at dark, with an account of their now truly desperate condition.  He was confident of being able as before to get through the enemy’s lines.

In accordance with Mr Pemberton’s suggestion, it was resolved in the mean time to get up a flagstaff at the top of the house, with a flag hoisted half-mast high as a signal of their distressed condition.  This would hasten the arrival of friends to their relief, should any be in the neighbourhood.  It would not, however, prevent the necessity of sending off Quashie to urge that aid might at once be despatched.  Fortunately a long pole, which Mr Twigg had intended to put up for that purpose on a neighbouring height, had been brought to the house to be prepared by the carpenter.  It was at once carried indoors, and, the lower end being fixed in a beam of the ceiling of the upper story, was run through the trap which led to the roof.  Here, under the direction of Mr Ferris, who had some nautical knowledge, it was stayed up by ropes to the corners of the house, halliards having previously been rove through the sheave at its summit.  The difficulty was to obtain a flag.  None was to be found, till Mrs Twigg remarked that she and the young ladies had some light dresses which would answer the purpose.

“Let us have them at once, then,” exclaimed Mr Twigg eagerly; “there is no time to be lost.”

Ellen and Fanny, hurrying to their room, quickly returned with a couple of cambric dresses, such as are generally worn in that warm climate.  Before they had time to take their scissors and cut them open as they had intended, Mr Twigg seized them, and hurried with them up to the roof, where Mr Ferris was superintending the erection of the flagstaff.

“Here they are,” exclaimed Mr Twigg.  “Run them up at once; they will tell our tale better than any more perfect flag.”

Mr Ferris, with a ball of rope yarn in his hand, fastened the dresses forthwith to the halliards by the skirts, allowing the full sleeves to blow out.

“There!” he exclaimed, with a touch of his native wit.  “Faith, they will show that there are ladies in distress, and if there is any gallantry in the heart of the islanders, we shall soon have them running a race to our assistance.”

The dresses thus hoisted flew out to a brisk breeze which blew from the eastward.  Just then several shots were heard, and two or three bullets fell on the roof, which, though spent, warned those on it that should the marksmen approach somewhat nearer their position would become dangerous.  Mr Ferris, therefore, calling his assistants down, they all quickly got under shelter.

Notwithstanding the signal flying from the roof, the day passed without any one coming to their relief.  Their provisions were almost exhausted, and affairs were becoming serious.  Another consultation was held, when it was determined to beg Mr Pemberton to come as he proposed, the garrison undertaking to attempt cutting their way through the rebels, and abandoning the house to destruction.  A note to that effect was accordingly written, and secured, as the former one had been, in Quashie’s woolly head.  About an hour after sundown he crept out at the back of the house, and the instant after was lost to sight.  Even his mother felt no fear for his safety, and every one believed that he would make his way without difficulty back to Walton.

After he had gone the enemy recommenced their system of annoyance, coming up under cover and firing at the house.  Though the garrison aimed in return at the points from which the flashes of the rebels’ muskets were seen, the latter so rapidly retreated that it was supposed none of them were hit.  Nothing could be more trying.  Sometimes for several minutes together they would remain quiet, when suddenly a shower of shot would come pattering against the walls.  The enemy would then again retreat, and single shots would be fired, now from one point, now from another; then again another shower would come, as if the enemy had made a general advance.

“Let them fire away as much as they like,” observed Lieutenant Belt, laughing.  “I only wish they would fire much oftener at so safe a distance, as they must thus at last expend their powder.”

Still those unaccustomed to warfare could not fail to experience uncomfortable sensations as the bullets in rapid succession struck the walls, although as yet they had done but little damage, five of the people only, besides Lieutenant Belt, having been slightly wounded in their shoulders or faces.  At length the rebels appeared to have grown tired of that style of amusement, and perfect silence reigned around the house.

Towards morning, when most of the little garrison were lying down, worn out with constant alarms and watching, the cry was raised that the blacks were again coming on; and they were seen rushing up the hill, carrying not only faggots but ladders, evidently intending to attack the house as they had done at Walton, and to set both it and the stockades on fire.  Should they succeed, nothing could save the lives of the inmates.

The shrieks and yells uttered by the blacks for the purpose of intimidating the garrison were certainly terrific, and even the gallant lieutenant began to fear that all the efforts made to resist them would be in vain.  On inquiry, too, he found that the ammunition was running short, a large proportion having been expended during that and the previous night.  Still undaunted, he went round among the people, inspiring others with his own cool courage.

“We have more serious work than hitherto, my friends,” he said; “but if we are true to ourselves, we shall beat the enemy as before.  Never mind though they burn the chevaux-de-frise, they will not venture through the flames, depend on that; and if we fail to put out the fire, we must retreat into the house.  As I told you before, do not throw a shot away.  Here they come.”

As he spoke, the savages carrying the faggots rushed forward with the intention of casting them over the outer line against the stockades.  Many, however, were shot down before they succeeded in doing this; others were killed or wounded after they had thrown forward their loads.  A number of men now advanced, carrying candlewood torches.

“Those fellows must be picked off,” shouted the lieutenant.

In some cases the command was obeyed; but many of the blacks, now leaping on one side, now on the other, eluded the bullets aimed at them, and threw the burning brands amid the bundles of wood, which catching fire began to blaze up in all directions, the smoke almost concealing the combatants from each other.  Whenever it lifted, however, the flames exposed the shrieking mass of blacks clearly to view, and many were shot down in the moment, as they supposed, of their triumphant success.

As Lieutenant Belt had expected, none of them ventured through the burning mass; but here and there the stockades were catching fire, and it appeared too probable that they would be burnt through and afford an ultimate ingress to the foe.  The scene was indeed terrible to those standing in the narrow space within the stockades — the crackling of the burning wood, the lurid flames, the dense mass of smoke, and outside the shouting, shrieking savages eager to break through the defences and massacre all within.

Efforts were made to extinguish the fire, and had there been an ample supply of water, it might easily have been done, for it was only in spots where the flames blew against the woodwork that they produced any effect.  Still the back and sides of the house were protected, and until the stockades were destroyed the besiegers could make no use of their ladders.

“I do not think we need fear them,” said Lieutenant Belt.  “We must watch narrowly where they are placed, and shoot down the people from the windows immediately they attempt to mount.”

The blacks, as before, carried off their dead and wounded, and it was difficult to ascertain how much they had suffered.  Already a good many had retreated, but others were seen coming up with more faggots, which they attempted to throw amid the already burning mass.  By this time the whole house was surrounded by a hedge of flames, and Mr Twigg, who had exerted himself as much as any one, made his way up to the lieutenant, and advised that they should retreat into the house while the enemy were unable to follow them.

“Let us make another attempt to drive them off,” was the answer.  “They are afraid themselves of the flames they have kindled, and will not venture through them.  Now, my lads, give them one more volley,” he shouted, “and if I mistake not they will turn tail.”

As he shouted “Fire!” at the top of his voice, the order was heard by the blacks, and away they went scampering down the hill, hoping to avoid the bullets which they expected would follow.

The greater number got under cover, or escaped by falling flat on their faces.  Ignorant savages as they were, they were unable to take advantage of the success their bravery and hardihood had accomplished.  On this the ultimate safety of the hard-pressed garrison depended.  Had they pressed on through the opening which the fire had produced, they might have forced their way, not only within the stockade, but into the house itself.  Hopes were entertained that the enemy had had fighting enough for the night, and intended to allow the fire to do its work before making another assault.  Fresh efforts were made by the garrison to extinguish the fire, which had got hold of the stockades.  They had been composed chiefly of dry timber, which easily ignited and burned furiously.  At length the lieutenant saw that all attempts to save them would be futile, and that the utmost that could be done would be to prevent the doors and windows of the house itself from catching fire.  This, by constant watchfulness and great exertion, was done; and he then, complying with Mr Twigg’s earnest appeals, summoned the people to come within the house, when the door was barricaded, and they prepared to hold out, in what they had from the first called their citadel, till the moment for the intended sortie had arrived.

It was a night of terror to many and anxiety to all.  Their ammunition was running terribly short; but a few rounds only remained, and there was barely food sufficient to afford a breakfast for the weary garrison.  The water also was almost exhausted.

Daylight came, and the lieutenant went himself to the roof of the house to look out, but could see no friendly band coming to their relief.  The young ladies’ dresses were flying in the morning breeze, sadly rent by the bullets which had passed through them.  The lieutenant then turned his glance into the valley, where he saw the black besiegers still apparently as numerous as ever.  The hedge of fire had now burned itself out; large gaps existed in the stockades, but portions still remained standing, and would afford some protection to his men in case a sortie had to be made.  His chief object was to examine the ground which they would have to traverse, should Mr Pemberton carry out his intention of coming to their relief.  He at last descended, and went round to each of the windows, where he had posted a sentry to keep a look-out on the movements of the rebels; then, feeling that he had done his duty, he threw himself down on a cane sofa, to snatch for a short time the rest he so much required.

The other inmates of the house, who had been kept awake all the night, were dozing in their chairs or on their sofas; the men not on guard were lying down on the ground; the children were in their cribs, watched over by Martha.  She had reserved some food for them, and they were in that respect better off than any one else.  The young ladies and Mrs Twigg had positively refused to take more than their share.  They were happily also forgetting their troubles in sleep.

Weary as he was, Mr Ferris felt the dangerous position in which they were placed too much to rest, and continued going from room to room, looking out at each window, and occasionally mounting to the roof.  He was standing there, when he saw a single black advancing up the hill from among the savages.  He was unarmed, and carried in his hand a pole with a large white flag waving from it.  He evidently understood the use of a flag of truce, and trusted to its being respected.  He advanced till he got within hearing distance of the house.  He was a tall, strongly built man, his features unusually hideous even for a negro.  On seeing Mr Ferris, he shouted at the top of his voice, “Will you gib in?  You see what we can do.  We ask you to make friends.”

“We shall be ready to do so on condition that you lay down your arms and return to your duty,” answered Mr Ferris.

The black laughed loud and hoarsely.  “Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“No,” answered Mr Ferris.

“Den I tell you — I Cudjoe.  Some inside de house know me, and know dat I no fool.  Listen den.  We go away and leave Massa Twigg — he good man — and all de people alone on one ’dition, dat you gib up the oberseer and let us hab him to do wid him as we like.  Dat is our ’dition; ’cept it and you safe.  If not — listen, massa — you got one lily-white daughter, and Massa Twigg him got wife and piccaninnies.  You lub dem.  You see what we do dis night; we soon come again wid more faggots and fire and ladders, and we burn de house ober your heads and kill ebery one.  Cudjoe no fool — Cudjoe speak de truth.  Listen, massa, what I say — gib up de overseer or die.”

“It is useless making such a proposal,” answered Mr Ferris; “no one would consent to it.  If you have any other terms to offer we will listen to them.  We can hold out against all your attempts to take the house.  You have already lost a number of your foolish followers, and many more will be killed if you venture again to attack us.”

While Mr Ferris was speaking, he heard a person coming up the ladder, and glancing round he saw Thompson the overseer standing by his side, and on the point of lifting a musket, which he had placed on the roof.  Before Mr Ferris had time to stop him, he had raised it to his shoulder and was taking aim at the insurgent leader.  As he pulled the trigger Mr Ferris struck up the weapon, and the bullet whistled over the black’s head.

“Respect a flag of truce, even in the hands of a savage,” he exclaimed indignantly.  “If we set such an example, what can we expect in return?”

Cudjoe had observed the act.  “I tank you, massa,” he shouted, “but dat man die before de sun go down;” and, rapidly turning, he bounded down the hill.

Several shots, which went whistling after him, were fired by the men on guard in the lower story.

“You have done an ill service to the country, sir, and worse to all within this house,” exclaimed the overseer.  “That man is the mainspring of the rebellion.  Had I killed him, the blacks in this neighbourhood, without a leader, would have taken to flight, and we should have been safe.”

“I did what was right.  A flag of truce should ever be held sacred,” answered Mr Ferris.  “I do not regret refusing his request, but your act has prevented us from making other terms, which might have been done.”

“No terms can be kept with savages.  It is impossible to trust them,” exclaimed the overseer.  “However, we must now stand the consequences.”

Mr Ferris, who felt his anger rising at what he considered Thompson’s insolence, descended from the roof.

The firing had aroused the rest of the party.  The lieutenant even, although musket-shots were familiar sounds, started to his feet, believing that the house was about again to be attacked.  Mr Ferris explained what had happened, and both the lieutenant and Mr Twigg agreed that he had acted rightly, and blamed the overseer for firing.  Lieutenant Belt especially was indignant at his conduct.

“They may or may not venture again to attack us, but if they do, and succeed, we can expect no mercy at their hands,” he said.

“We could have expected none, at all events, I believe,” observed Mr Twigg.

Some of the garrison, who had a lower sense of honour than Mr Ferris, were not so well satisfied with his decision, and declared that if they had had their will they would have given up the overseer to Cudjoe, though they took care not to utter such an opinion in his hearing.

The position of the garrison was now truly critical.  The shots uselessly fired had expended several of the few rounds, now of such inestimable value.  The lieutenant, on making inquiries, found that some of the men had only a single charge apiece; none had more than two.  Should another attack be made, what hope had they of beating off the foe?  He did not conceal the state of affairs from the gentlemen.

“Then our best chance will be to sally out at once and fight our way towards Walton,” said Mr Twigg.

“Unless our friends should appear to our relief we should be surrounded and cut to pieces,” answered the lieutenant.  “When the blacks find that we have no powder, they will attack us with greater confidence.  We may still hold out for some hours in the house, and as the enemy are not as yet aware of our want of ammunition, they may possibly not again venture on an assault.”

“But if they do?” asked Mr Twigg.

“Then we must reserve each bullet for the most daring among them.  If we can shoot their leaders, the rest will probably take to flight.”

“But if we fail, and should they force their way in?” asked the planter, whose spirits were sinking as he thought of the fearful danger to which his family were exposed.

“Then, sir, we must endeavour to drive them out again with our cutlasses and bayonets; or, if the worst happens, place ourselves round the ladies and children, and fight to the last,” answered the lieutenant in a confident tone.  “Though my sword-arm cannot serve me, I can use a pike or bayonet.”

Mrs Twigg had heard of what had taken place, and began to suspect their desperate condition.  She imparted her apprehensions to Ellen and Fanny, though neither of them showed any signs of fear.

“I wish that I could use a pistol or sword,” exclaimed Fanny; “but surely we can do something.  We can hurl stones or logs of wood down on the heads of our assailants from the windows or roof.”

“I will help you,” cried Ellen, inspired by her friend’s courage.  “Let us get them carried up at once, in case they are wanted.  There are paving-stones which can be dug up and broken into fragments, or pieces of the heavy furniture will serve the purpose.  We will at once tell Mr Twigg what we are ready to do.”

They hurried into the room where the gentlemen were assembled.

“A brave idea,” cried Lieutenant Belt, looking at the young heroines with admiration; “but others can do the work you propose.  You must not be exposed to the risk of appearing on the roof.  The enemy’s bullets, as we know from experience, would reach you there.  Let me entreat you to remain below.  We shall fight with more confidence when we know that you are safe.”

Ellen’s suggestion, however, was carried out, and men were immediately sent to break up the paving-stones in the back part of the house.  The blacks, at all events, were not likely to gain an easy victory.  Hopes indeed were entertained that they would not make another attack, but those hopes were doomed to be disappointed.

“Here they come!” cried several men stationed at the windows.

Lieutenant Belt, starting to his feet, saw the whole body of blacks advancing, some in front, others on one side of the house.

“Now, my men, I charge you not to fire a shot till you can pick out the fellows leading them on, or, if you cannot distinguish them from the rest, wait till the ladders are placed against the wall; for see, they have got ladders with them, and faggots too, and they intend, if they cannot succeed by other means, to burn us out.  But do not let that alarm you; if you keep up your courage, we shall prevent them.”

As he was speaking, the insurgent slaves were drawing nearer and nearer, though advancing slowly, apparently to enable those carrying the ladders and faggots to keep up with the rest.  Just then a dense volume of smoke burst forth between the house and the sea to the north-east, flames quickly following, driven by a brisk breeze which had lately sprung up.  The blacks, retreating before the fire, had to make a circuit to avoid it.  So furious were the flames that they threatened to set the neighbouring plantations on fire.  The chief effect was to shroud the view over the sea in that direction from those in the house; another was somewhat to delay the advance of the blacks, who had evidently determined to approach the house with their whole body at once.

The lieutenant having disposed his men to the best advantage, again ascended to the roof to see if any help was coming.  He gazed eagerly round to the west and north.  He could discover neither the looked-for signal announcing the approach of Mr Pemberton’s party, nor any troops or militia.  As he was about again to go down the ladder, he discovered the overseer lying on the roof with a musket by his side.

“Why are you not at your post?” he asked.

“I am of more use where I am,” answered the overseer.  “I intend doing what was left undone just now.  Don’t interfere with me.”

The lieutenant had not time to exchange words with the man; he hastened down that he might be ready to encourage the rest.

Suddenly the savages gave forth one of those fearful yells which they are accustomed to utter as they rush forward to the fight.  As soon as they got within musket range, those in the front line began firing, showing that they evidently had abundance of ammunition.

The lieutenant distinguished a tall black, with a musket in his hand, leading them on.  He raised it to his shoulder and fired.  At that moment a fearful shriek was heard — it came from the roof — and a heavy body fell from the trap to the floor below.  The black flourished his weapon above his head without stopping to reload.

“De oberseer is dead,” cried Martha, who had rushed out of a closet in which the children had been placed for safety, “he is dead, pity he not killed dis morning.”

The event had indeed occurred too late to be of any avail to the garrison.  To attempt making a sortie would now have been madness, for, bad marksmen as were the negroes, the whole party might have been shot down even before they could have reached any available shelter.

Cudjoe’s success — for he must have seen the overseer fall by his bullet — encouraged his followers, and now, shrieking, leaping, and brandishing their weapons, they rushed forward.  In vain the lieutenant charged his men not to throw a shot away; the greater number in their eagerness fired, forgetting that they had no fresh charges, and when they felt for their cartridges to reload, they found that their ammunition was expended.  The enemy thus almost with impunity reached the walls.

Several of the remaining shots were fired at Cudjoe.  He seemed to bear a charmed life, or rather the wonderful leaps and bounds he made amid his companions prevented the defenders of the house, none of whom were over good marksmen, from taking a steady aim at him.  Like a swarm of ants about to devour some creature of the forest, the blacks surrounded the house, and began to lift the ladders and place them against the walls.

The lieutenant now ordered the party he had told off for that purpose to go up on the roof to force back the ladders, to hurl down the stones, and to defend it to the last.

Desperate, indeed, had now become the condition of the devoted inmates of Bellevue.