Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [139]
Robert may have been freed from Libby Prison but he was still a virtual prisoner in my house. With an intense search for the escapees going on in Richmond and the surrounding countryside, it was much too dangerous for him to risk leaving. Fearing another surprise search by Major Turner, Tessie and I decided to sleep in Mother’s room for the next few days so we could continue to hide Robert in my bedroom.
After Mr. St. John left that morning, we hauled buckets of hot water upstairs, filling the copper bathtub so Robert could bathe. Luella doused his shaggy hair with turpentine and wrapped it in rags to kill the lice, then Gilbert trimmed it short after it had been scrubbed clean. Robert’s long beard and mustache also had to go because of the vermin. Gilbert, who had barbered Daddy countless times, was given the job of shaving him, too.
Meanwhile, Tessie and Ruby worked to let out all the seams and hems in one of Daddy’s old suits and altered one of his shirts so they would fit Robert. I burned his Federal uniform in the library’s fireplace. The only things we couldn’t replace were Robert’s shoes—the worn-out pair the Confederate soldier had left behind when he’d stolen Robert’s army boots. Daddy’s shoes were too small, Eli’s too large. Gilbert’s shoes fit him the best, but then Gilbert would need a new pair, and shoes in Richmond cost a small fortune these days. Robert would have to go without shoes until his leg healed.
When the transformation was complete, I hardly recognized Robert. He was much thinner and lankier than he’d ever been when we lived up north, and he was very pale from the lack of sunlight for the past year and a half. But his bearing and demeanor were what had changed the most since our days in Philadelphia.
There was an austere strength in his face from all that he’d endured, a rugged tilt to his jaw that made him look fierce for the first time in his life. The sadness in his gray poet’s eyes was gone, replaced by a hard glint like bayonet steel. Clean-shaven and dressed in Daddy’s clothes, Robert looked surprisingly handsome.
Within two weeks his leg was healing nicely—and forty-eight of the escaped prisoners had been recaptured. Two had drowned in the canal, but fifty-nine, including Robert, remained at large. “It’s time for me to go,” he repeated as he paced my bedroom floor to exercise his leg. I sat in a chair beside the fireplace, watching him.
“You can’t just walk out the door,” I told him. “For one thing, I think my house is still being watched. For another, every healthy young man your age is in the army. You’d stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, as soon as you open your mouth they’ll be able to tell you’re a Yankee. You need a plan.”
“I’ll leave at night.”
I shook my head. “That’s when they recaptured forty-eight of your fellow escapees. Listen, we still have Jonathan’s army jacket from when he was wounded. Esther has been using it for a rag and it’s in terrible shape, but we could try to patch it—”
“A Confederate uniform? I wouldn’t be caught dead in one, even to escape.”
I thought of how proud Charles was to wear his Confederate uniform and I lost my temper. “Don’t be an idiot, Robert. You might be both—caught and dead.”
He lifted his chin stubbornly. “Think of something else.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “They’ll have all the roads blocked. And the last time I traveled outside of Richmond I needed a permit. I don’t know if that’s still true or not. I’d draw too much attention to myself if I started inquiring about it. Jonathan kept the permit from when we went to his brother’s funeral. But I think I still have the travel permit Aunt Anne and I used when we went out to Hilltop. Maybe we could alter it or forge a new one.”
“Let me see it.”
I kept it in a hatbox in the bottom of my wardrobe with all of Charles’ letters. Robert crossed the room to stand behind me, peering over my shoulder as I searched among the envelopes.
“Are all those letters from him?” he asked.
“He has a name,” I said quietly. “It’s Charles. And yes,