The Crossing [142]
Colonel Sevier himself stepped up on the porch, laid his hand on Temple's arm, and spoke to him in a low tone. What he said we didn't hear. The astonishing thing was that neither of them for the moment paid any attention to the infuriated man beside them. I saw Nick's expression change. He smiled,--the smile the landlord had described, the smile that made men and women willing to die for him. After that Colonel Sevier stooped down and picked up the pistol from the floor of the porch and handed it with a bow to Tipton, butt first. Tipton took it, seemingly without knowing why, and at that instant a negro boy came around the house, leading a horse. Sevier mounted it without a protest from any one.
``I am ready to go with you, gentlemen,'' he said.
Colonel Tipton slipped his pistol back into his belt, stepped down from the porch, and leaped into his saddle, and he and his men rode off into the stump-lined alley in the forest that was called a road. Nick stood beside the widow, staring after them until they had disappeared.
``My horse, boy!'' he shouted to the gaping negro, who vanished on the errand.
``What will you do, Mr. Temple?'' asked the widow.
``Rescue him, ma'am,'' cried Nick, beginning to pace up and down. ``I'll ride to Turner's. Cozby and Evans are there, and before night we shall have made Jonesboro too hot to hold Tipton and his cutthroats.''
``La, Mr. Temple,'' said the widow, with unfeigned admiration, ``I never saw the like of you. But I know John Tipton, and he'll have Colonel Sevier started for North Carolina before our boys can get to Jonesboro.''
``Then we'll follow,'' says Nick, beginning to pace again. Suddenly, at a cry from the widow, he stopped and stared at me, a light in his eye like a point of steel. His hand slipped to his waist.
``A spy,'' he said, and turned and smiled at the lady, who was watching him with a kind of fascination; ``but damnably cool,'' he continued, looking at me. ``I wonder if he thinks to outride me on that beast? Look you, sir,'' he cried, as Mrs. Brown's negro came back struggling with a deep-ribbed, high-crested chestnut that was making half circles on his hind legs, ``I'll give you to the edge of the woods, and lay you a six-forty against a pair of moccasins that you never get back to Tipton.''
``God forbid that I ever do,'' I answered fervently.
``What,'' he exclaimed, ``and you here with him on this sneak's errand!''
``I am here with him on no errand,'' said I. ``He and his crew came on me a quarter of an hour since at the edge of the clearing. Mr. Temple, I am here to find you, and to save time I will ride with you.''
``Egad, you'll have to ride like the devil then,'' said he, and he stooped and snatched the widow's hand and kissed it with a daring gallantry that I had thought to find in him. He raised his eyes to hers.
``Good-by, Mr. Temple, she said,--there was a tremor in her voice,--``and may you save our Jack!''
He snatched the bridle from the boy, and with one leap he was on the rearing, wheeling horse. ``Come on,'' he cried to me, and, waving his hat at the lady on the porch, he started off with a gallop up the trail in the opposite direction from that which Tipton's men had taken.
All that I saw of Mr. Nicholas Temple on that ride to Turner's was his back, and presently I lost sight of that. In truth, I never got to Turner's at all, for I met him coming back at the wind's pace, a huge, swarthy, determined man at his side and four others spurring after, the spume dripping from the horses' mouths. They did not so much as look at me as they passed, and there was nothing left for me to do but to turn my tired beast and follow at any pace I could make towards Jonesboro.
It was late in the afternoon before I reached the town, the town set down among the hills like a caldron boiling over with the wrath of Franklin. The news of the capture of their beloved Sevier had flown through the mountains like seeds on the autumn wind, and from north, south, east, and west the faithful were coming in, cursing
``I am ready to go with you, gentlemen,'' he said.
Colonel Tipton slipped his pistol back into his belt, stepped down from the porch, and leaped into his saddle, and he and his men rode off into the stump-lined alley in the forest that was called a road. Nick stood beside the widow, staring after them until they had disappeared.
``My horse, boy!'' he shouted to the gaping negro, who vanished on the errand.
``What will you do, Mr. Temple?'' asked the widow.
``Rescue him, ma'am,'' cried Nick, beginning to pace up and down. ``I'll ride to Turner's. Cozby and Evans are there, and before night we shall have made Jonesboro too hot to hold Tipton and his cutthroats.''
``La, Mr. Temple,'' said the widow, with unfeigned admiration, ``I never saw the like of you. But I know John Tipton, and he'll have Colonel Sevier started for North Carolina before our boys can get to Jonesboro.''
``Then we'll follow,'' says Nick, beginning to pace again. Suddenly, at a cry from the widow, he stopped and stared at me, a light in his eye like a point of steel. His hand slipped to his waist.
``A spy,'' he said, and turned and smiled at the lady, who was watching him with a kind of fascination; ``but damnably cool,'' he continued, looking at me. ``I wonder if he thinks to outride me on that beast? Look you, sir,'' he cried, as Mrs. Brown's negro came back struggling with a deep-ribbed, high-crested chestnut that was making half circles on his hind legs, ``I'll give you to the edge of the woods, and lay you a six-forty against a pair of moccasins that you never get back to Tipton.''
``God forbid that I ever do,'' I answered fervently.
``What,'' he exclaimed, ``and you here with him on this sneak's errand!''
``I am here with him on no errand,'' said I. ``He and his crew came on me a quarter of an hour since at the edge of the clearing. Mr. Temple, I am here to find you, and to save time I will ride with you.''
``Egad, you'll have to ride like the devil then,'' said he, and he stooped and snatched the widow's hand and kissed it with a daring gallantry that I had thought to find in him. He raised his eyes to hers.
``Good-by, Mr. Temple, she said,--there was a tremor in her voice,--``and may you save our Jack!''
He snatched the bridle from the boy, and with one leap he was on the rearing, wheeling horse. ``Come on,'' he cried to me, and, waving his hat at the lady on the porch, he started off with a gallop up the trail in the opposite direction from that which Tipton's men had taken.
All that I saw of Mr. Nicholas Temple on that ride to Turner's was his back, and presently I lost sight of that. In truth, I never got to Turner's at all, for I met him coming back at the wind's pace, a huge, swarthy, determined man at his side and four others spurring after, the spume dripping from the horses' mouths. They did not so much as look at me as they passed, and there was nothing left for me to do but to turn my tired beast and follow at any pace I could make towards Jonesboro.
It was late in the afternoon before I reached the town, the town set down among the hills like a caldron boiling over with the wrath of Franklin. The news of the capture of their beloved Sevier had flown through the mountains like seeds on the autumn wind, and from north, south, east, and west the faithful were coming in, cursing