Rebel in Time

Chapter 29

It was just after six-thirty in the morning when Hicks and Yancy knocked on the front door of the Blue House hotel. They had to knock again, louder, before it was opened by Mrs Henley herself, arms bare, face flushed from the kitchen fire.

'Do you know what the hour is? What do you mean bothering honest people with all that hammering at this time of day?'

'Sorry, mam, but we came to find a Mr Shaw who's staying here. Got an urgent message from Colonel McCulloch for him.'

'It's too early for messages. Mr Shaw's asleep and I haven't even made the coffee yet.'

'Well, we don't want to bother him, not when he's still abed. I hear tell he's got a nigger with him. Where he at? I can go and get him and he can stir his master up.'

'Out back in the stable. And I don't have any more time for jawing.'

The door slammed in their faces. 'You stay here,' Hicks said. 'Make sure he don't try to sashay out the front door while we hanging around the back. I'll see to that fire-raising buck.'

Yancy settled down on the steps while Hicks got the big pistol from the holster on his saddle, then went quietly down the alleyway towards the rear of the house. Yancy pulled a piece of grass and chewed on it slowly until Hicks returned.

'Gone,' Hicks said, pushing the pistol into his belt and pulling his coat down to hide it. 'Didn't think he'd hang around, not after what he done. That Shaw, he's gonna tell us something about that…'

He spun about quickly as the front door opened, then smiled as he saw the young girl standing there.

'You shouldn't mind mamma,' Arabella said. 'She's always kind of short in the morning.' She reached behind her and took a tray off the table there and brought it outside; there were two steaming mugs of coffee on it. 'Any friends of Mr Shaw's are friends of mine. Thought you might like this.'

'We're friends of his, all right,' Hicks said, winking broadly at Yancy over Arabella's head. 'This is sure fine coffee. I know he wants to see us. Do you think he's up yet?'

'He is. I brought him a basin of water some time ago. Just finish your coffee and I'll show you to his room.'

It took the two men only a minute to drink the coffee, then they followed Arabella up the stairs, waiting until she had turned away before they knocked.

'It's open,' Robbie Shaw called out when he heard the knock on the door. He was just finishing shaving and he looked at the newcomers in the mirror as they came in. 'Can I help you?'

'The name is Hicks, Mr Shaw. I work for Colonel McCulloch.'

'Yes, Hicks, I recognized you. I've seen you there. Is there any reason for this early call?' He rinsed the straight-edged razor in the basin and wiped it on the towel.

'Big fire last night at the colonel's factory—'

'The fire alarm — it woke me up. Is it very bad?'

'Not for me to say, sir. But the colonel, he wants to see you at once. Sent us to bring you.'

'That's very agreeable of the colonel. Please return and tell him I'll be over later this evening, after I have taken care of some pressing matters.'

'I think he would like to see you now.'

'I'm sure he would, but it is impossible. Now if you will kindly leave…'

'Now,' Hicks said, pulling the pistol and jamming it hard into Shaw's midriff. 'I want you to pack your travelling bag and don't say another word, hear? We three are going to walk out that door sweet as pie and you're going to look like you're really enjoying it. Show him your Arkansas toothpick, Yancy.'

With a surprisingly quick movement the big man produced a long-bladed knife and thrust it forward towards Shaw.

'Old Yancy here's not too bright, but he knows how to use that thing. Wouldn't want no accidents when we walk out of here. Now where is your bag at?'

'The closet. I'll get it—'

'No, you won't. Yancy will. There might be a gun in there as well as the bag and you might make a mistake and get yourself hurt. Yancy, drag it out.'

Yancy shifted the knife to his left hand, grabbed the doorknob with his right hand and pulled.

Troy stepped out of the closet, bringing his raised hand down in an angled chop, the hard edge catching the man on the side of his neck. He grunted and folded, the knife dropping from his suddenly limp fingers.

Hicks heard the meaty thud of the blow. He spun about and raised the pistol — and screamed as Shaw's razor slashed the back of his hand. He groaned terribly and clutched hard at his wrist, the blood dripping through his fingers.

'Too much noise,' Troy said, balling his fist and leaping forward. The single blow collapsed the man into silence.

Troy bound the wounded man's hand with the towel while Shaw rinsed his razor in the bowl, then dumped the pink-frothed water out the window. 'Do you think anyone heard?' he asked.

Troy listened, then shook his head. 'Doesn't seem like it. All quiet. You're pretty fast with that blade, you know?'

'I had to be. I kept it handy since there was always the chance someone would pull a gun. You were right about McCulloch sending a war party.'

'He had to. That fire only confirmed any suspicions he already had. Now he is out to get me before I can get him. But he has too much strength in this town. It's no place to make a stand against him. We have to withdraw and regroup. But intelligently. That's why I wanted to wait until these roughnecks showed up. If we had just tried to run he would have had a posse on our trail. Now we have bought some time. Let's make the most of it.'

He pulled the rope out from under the bed where he had thrown it and cut off a length. While Shaw finished packing his bag Troy skilfully bound and gagged the two men. 'You got the story straight?' he asked.

'It's not too complicated. I grab a quick breakfast, tell them I'll be writing in my room all day and not to disturb me. Then back here and out the window and onto the barn roof, just the way you came in. Join you out back where you will have the buggy.'

'Bang on. Can you make it with that leg?'

'No trouble. I might not be able to climb up very easily, but this is just a matter of hanging and dropping.'

'Do it, then. By the time they discover these two I want to be far away from here.'

The city was just stirring to life as they went through it. 'Have you made any kind of a plan?' Shaw asked.

'Good question. If you want to know, I have been thinking about the answer to that one ever since we decided to get out from under here. I don't see any easy answers. Everything I come up with, I right away start worrying about McCulloch second guessing me. At first I had the strong temptation to head north to safety. But that's the obvious way and those roads are sure to be watched. The colonel has powerful friends — and they are all part of a conspiracy. I know that he is not doing this thing alone. It's too big.'

'Can you tell me about it?'

'I'll tell you what I can — only later. Let's save our necks first. If going north is out, it would be equally stupid to go south, too much like marching into the lion's den. Of course, we could head east for Norfolk, but we would surely be spotted if we tried to get a ship out of the port.'

'Why not a train?'

'Worst of all. The stations will be watched, and if they miss us here they can wire ahead for a reception committee.'

'Turn left at the next corner,' Shaw said.

Troy looked at him questioningly. 'Any reason why?'

'Yes, of course. Since you have run out of suggestions I thought I would make one of my own. I suggest a ride on the Underground Railroad.'

'Of course! I was dumb not to think of it. You've worked with these people, haven't you?'

'I have. And I can take you to a station that is only a half-day's ride from here, just this side of Montpelier. But we're going to have to muddy the waters a bit first. We don't want to leave a trail that points right to where we're going. The way it stands now we are pretty easy to identify.'

'You can say that again! A black man driving with a white man in a green buggy towing a one-eyed mule! We might as well advertise.'

'My feelings exactly. So we go and sell the mule to this livery stable just outside of the city. When we leave he sees us head north on the turnpike. Only once we are out of sight we use the side road west, me driving and you suffocating under the rug, on the floor in back. By the time they pick up our trail we will be gone without a trace.'

'Sounds good except for the head under the sack bit. Though maybe I can get some sleep.'

By late afternoon the buggy had left the low-lying farming country and was moving slowly along the dusty road that wound up into the foothills of the Piedmont Plateau. The day was hot, but the air was so clear that they could see the outline of the Blue Ridge Mountains far ahead. The horse was going slower and slower, almost winded, and Troy walked beside it, holding onto the reins.

'Much farther?' Troy asked. 'I'm beginning to feel like this horse looks.'

'A few miles more, as I remember it. Want to rest?'

'No. Keep going. The longer that we're on the road the more chance there is that someone will see us.'

The road twisted through a piney bit of forest, then around a sharp bend. Directly in front of them were two grim looking men standing in the centre of the road. With rifles levelled in their direction.

Troy's first spasm of fear ebbed a bit when he saw that one of the men was black. If there was one thing that he could be certain of — all of McCulloch's circle of accomplices would be lily-white.

'Keep your hands where we can see them,' the white man said, wiggling the gun in their direction. 'Now just who are you and where are you going?'

'It's none of your business,' Shaw said quietly. 'If you just stand to one side we can deliver ourselves.'

'Those are fancy words,' the man said, but he lowered his gun. 'People could talk, hear something like Stand And Deliver. But more important is, who do you know? Know Russell?'

'Of course I know Otis — because we're heading for his farm. And he knows me.'

'Does he? Almost time to tell me your name then.'

After the cryptic exchange Shaw agreed that it was too. 'My name is Robbie Shaw. I've been along this bit of track before.'

'Why, you sure have!' the man said, eagerly, holding the gun aside and stepping forward, hand extended. 'Last time through Harriet Tubman told how you and she worked together.'

'She's well — still!'

'Can't stop her. Reward on her head in every state, sent five thousand people at least down the line, still keeps going. All I can say it's a good thing you know her and Otis because strangers aren't welcome here right now. Got too many visitors up to the house, too much happening here. But some of us, we're going to march out tonight and you're just in time to see us off.'

'March where? I've heard nothing.'

'Of course not. Secret's meant to be kept — but the world will know soon. We're off to the Kennedy Farm, on the Maryland side of the Potomac.'

Shaw shook his head, puzzled. 'I'm afraid that I don't know it. Is it a house on the Railroad?'

'No, just a dilapidated old farm that we've been using. It's just a few miles outside of Harper's Ferry. It has been rented by Mr Isaac Smith himself. But that's just a name he used so they wouldn't know who he was. But you know him.

'This Isaac Smith is none other than John Brown himself. Yes he is!'

John Brown, Troy thought to himself, suddenly cold. John Brown at Harper's Ferry. And today is the fourteenth of October.

Clearly then, as clear as though he were reading it from the printed page of a history book he saw the date.

John Brown. The raid on Harper's Ferry.

October 16, 1859.