diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:58:39 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:58:39 -0700 |
| commit | c7e0e362ccb1e5ef51d472cf1cfd11282473f57e (patch) | |
| tree | 832c7823e499a66d4535b793d6d23b5889b77840 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32993-8.txt | 8053 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32993-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 137644 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32993-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 151892 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32993-h/32993-h.htm | 11316 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32993.txt | 8053 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32993.zip | bin | 0 -> 137638 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
9 files changed, 27438 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32993-8.txt b/32993-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..82afca7 --- /dev/null +++ b/32993-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8053 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Daughter of the Union, by Lucy Foster +Madison + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Daughter of the Union + + +Author: Lucy Foster Madison + + + +Release Date: June 27, 2010 [eBook #32993] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.fadedpage.net) + + + +A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION + +by + +LUCY FOSTER MADISON + +Author of "A Colonial Maid," Etc. + + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers . . New York +By arrangement with The Penn Publishing Co. + +Copyright 1903 by The Penn Publishing Company + +Manufactured in the U. S. A. + + + + +Contents + + Chapter Page + I WHAT GIRLS CAN DO 5 + II A GREAT AWAKENING 20 + III STARTING FOR DIXIE 31 + IV A TIMELY RENEWAL OF ACQUAINTANCE 41 + V CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS 53 + VI IN DIXIE LAND 70 + VII THE EXAMPLE OF A GIRL 83 + VIII THROUGH SHOT AND SHELL 95 + IX JEANNE MEETS THE HERO OF NEW ORLEANS 104 + X AN UNFORESEEN RESULT 117 + XI CLEARED OF SUSPICION 128 + XII AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 137 + XIII UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT 147 + XIV A VICTIM OF DECEIT 158 + XV BEFORE GENERAL BUTLER AGAIN 168 + XVI THE VELVET GLOVE CONCEALS THE IRON HAND 178 + XVII AGAIN DECEIVED 189 + XVIII IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP 200 + XIX "BOB" 212 + XX THE ARREST OF A SPY 225 + XXI A SURPRISE AND AN ESCAPE 237 + XXII DICK TO THE FORE 250 + XXIII RECAPTURE 259 + XXIV VICKSBURG 272 + XXV MADAME AGAIN 280 + XXVI JEANNE MEETS FRIENDS 290 + XXVII A PRISONER OF WAR 302 + XXVIII THE SIEGE BEGINS 314 + XXIX MADAME FOR THE LAST TIME 324 + XXX THE END OF THE SIEGE 334 + + + + +A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WHAT GIRLS CAN DO + + +"That finishes everything," exclaimed Jeanne Vance, placing a neatly +folded handkerchief in a basket. "And oh, girls, what a little bit of a +pile it makes!" + +The five girls drew their chairs closer to the basket and gazed ruefully +at its contents. + +"How many handkerchiefs are there, Jeanne?" asked one. + +"There are fifty handkerchiefs and five pairs of socks. It seemed like a +great many when we took them to make, but what do they amount to after +all?" + +"There isn't much that girls can do anyway," spoke another. "If we were +boys we could go to the war, or, if we were women we could be nurses. I +don't like being just a girl!" + +"Well, I wouldn't mind it so much if there was anything I could do," +remarked Jeanne who seemed to be the leader. "But when Dick is in the +army, father in government service, and mother at work all day in the +Relief Association, it is pretty hard not to be able to do anything but +hem handkerchiefs and make socks." + +"A great many persons don't even do that," said Nellie Drew, the youngest +girl of the party. "And they are grown-up people, too." + +"Then the more shame to them," cried Jeanne indignantly. "In such a +war as ours every man, woman and child in the United States ought to be +interested. I don't see how any one can help being so. For my part, I +am going to do all that I can for the soldiers if it is only to hem +handkerchiefs." + +"What else could we do? We can't help being girls, and Miss Thornton was +pleased when we asked for more work. She said that our last socks were +done as well as women could do them. I am sure that that is something." + +"That is true," admitted Jeanne soberly. "I have heard mother say that +some of the things were so poorly made that the ladies were ashamed +to send them to the front, but that often the need was so urgent that +they were compelled to do it. I am willing to knit socks and to hem +handkerchiefs, but I would like to do something else too. There is so +much to be done that I don't feel as if I were doing all that I might do." + +"We don't either, Jeanne, and if you know of anything we will gladly help +to do it," cried the girls together. + +"I don't know of anything else, girls, but maybe I can think of +something," said Jeanne, looking at the earnest faces before her. + +It was a bright May afternoon in the year of 1862, and the great conflict +between the North and the South was waging fiercely. The terrible battle +of Shiloh of the month before had dispelled some of the illusions of +the North and the people were awakening to the fact that a few victories +were not sufficient to overthrow the Confederacy. + +Aid societies under the United States Sanitary Commission for the relief +of the soldiers were springing up all over the Union, and patriotism +glowed brightly inflaming the hearts of rich and poor alike. This zeal +was not confined to the old but animated the minds of the young as well. +Numerous instances are recorded of little girls who had not yet attained +their tenth year denying themselves the luxuries and toys they had long +desired and toiling with a patience and perseverance wholly foreign to +childish nature, to procure or to make something of value for their +country's defenders. + +Our group of girls was only one among many banded together for the purpose +of doing whatever they could for the relief of the boys in blue, and +their young hearts were overwhelmed with a sense of their impotence. +Jeanne Vance, a tall, slender, fair-haired girl of sixteen, serious and +thoughtful beyond her years, was the leader in every patriotic enterprise +of her associates. + +Her father since the beginning of the war had devoted himself exclusively +to furthering the interests of the government; her mother was a prominent +worker in The Woman's Central Relief Association, giving her whole time +to collecting supplies and money to be forwarded to the front and +providing work for the wives, mothers and daughters of the soldiers. +Her brother, Richard Vance, had responded to the first call of President +Lincoln to arms: thus the girl was surrounded by influences that filled +her being to the utmost with intense loyalty to the Union. + +As she looked at the eagerly waiting girls around her a sudden inspiration +came to her. + +"Let's give a fair, girls. We could make pretty things to sell and I am +willing that all my toys and games shall be sold too. Perhaps we could +get a great deal of money that way, and I am sure that even a little would +be welcome." + +"But how about the socks and handkerchiefs? Shall we give up making them?" + +"No, indeed! We must keep right on with those, but this fair will be all +our own effort. I believe that we will feel as if we were really doing +something worth while if we can manage it. What do you say?" + +"It is the very thing," cried they. "When shall we begin?" + +"This afternoon," said Jeanne energetically. "There is no time like the +present. This is May. We ought to be ready by the last of June. We can +do a great deal in that time if we work hard." + +"And we can get our mothers to help us too," suggested Nellie Drew. + +"We ought not to do that, Nellie," replied Jeanne seriously. "They are +so busy themselves, and it would not be truly ours if we have the older +ones to help. Don't you think we ought to do just the very best we can +without them?" + +"Oh, yes, yes!" chorused the girls. + +"I can make pretty pin cushions," said a girl about Jeanne's age. "I will +make as many of them as I can." + +"I can do pen wipers very nicely, mamma says," spoke Nellie modestly. + +"Mother always lets me help dress the dolls for Christmas," cried another. + +"Where will we have it, Jeanne?" + +Jeanne looked puzzled for a moment. "I'll tell you, girls. Let's have it +on our steps. We'll have a big card telling all about it printed and put +up. Then people will stop and buy things when they know it is for the +soldiers." + +"On your steps," cried Nellie. "Oh, Jeanne, will your mother let you? It +is right on Fifth Avenue." + +"Why, mother won't care!" answered Jeanne, surprised at the question. +"Fifth Avenue is the best place in New York for anything of the sort, +because so many well-to-do people pass, and they will be sure to be +generous for the soldiers' sake." + +"Mercy, Jeanne, where did you learn so much about things?" gasped Nellie +in admiration. "I wouldn't have thought of that." + +"Well," said Jeanne, flushing at the praise, "I hear mother and the ladies +talking, you know. They say that such things must always be taken into +consideration. If you have anything to sell, or you want money, you must +go where there is money to be had. I know the ladies do that in their +fairs." + +"Then of course that is the way to do," remarked a tall girl decidedly. +"Let's take our handkerchiefs and socks to the Relief rooms and begin +right away." + +The girls set to work joyfully, and labored zealously for their fair. +Their parents were amused at their earnestness, but seeing them happy and +contented encouraged them in their efforts. The days were busy ones, +but the knowledge that every boat and train was bringing hundreds of +wounded soldiers into the hospitals from the disastrous Yorktown campaign +spurred them to greater exertion, until at last they declared themselves +ready to open the sale. + +Handkerchiefs, aprons, homemade candies, dolls, with all the paraphernalia +belonging to them, pin cushions, pen wipers, and books, presented a +goodly appearance as they were spread enticingly upon the steps of the +mansion in lower Fifth Avenue. A large card, which Mr. Vance had had +printed for them with the inscription, "For the relief of our wounded +and sick soldiers. Please buy," reared its head imposingly over the +articles, and five little maids, neatly dressed, stood in expectant +attitude eagerly watching each passer-by in the hope of a customer. + +The placard caught the eyes of an elderly man, and the little girls could +scarcely conceal their delight as he paused before them. + +"Well, my little ladies, what have we here?" he asked kindly. "For the +soldiers, eh? Who put you up to this?" + +"No one, sir," answered Jeanne as the other girls shrank back abashed. +"We are doing it ourselves to help buy things for the boys." + +"But who made the articles?" queried the old gentleman. "I am a poor judge +of such things, but these handkerchiefs seem to be very neatly done. They +are not of your making, I presume." + +"Indeed they are," answered the girl earnestly. "We have done all the +sewing, and made the candies. The toys were our own, given to us by our +parents, but we would rather have the money to give to the soldiers, so +they are for sale too. We girls have made everything but the toys and +the books." + +"But why," persisted he good-naturedly. "The government provides for its +soldiers, and there are women and men to do what the government doesn't +do. Why should you interest yourselves in such things? The war doesn't +concern you!" + +"Whatever concerns our country concerns us," answered Jeanne with dignity. +"We are only girls, sir, and cannot do much, but what we can do to help +those who are fighting for us we will do." + +"Nobly said, my little maid. I was anxious to see if this was a mere whim +of the moment, or if you really were actuated by patriotic motives. You +have taught me that girls can feel for their country as well as grown +people. How much are those handkerchiefs?" + +"A dollar a dozen, sir." + +"H'm'm!" mused the old gentleman drawing forth a well filled pocketbook. +"Too cheap by far. Give me a couple of dozen." + +Jeanne obeyed with alacrity and carefully wrapped the handkerchiefs +in tissue paper. "I can't change this bill, sir," she said as the old +gentleman gave her a twenty dollar note. + +"I don't want you to, my little girl," returned he kindly. "Take it for +the cause." + +"Oh," cried Jeanne her eyes filling with glad tears. "How good you are! +How good you are!" + +"Nonsense! It's a pity if I cannot give a little money when you girls have +given so much time and work. Good-day, my little patriots. Success to you +in your undertaking. You may see me again." + +"Good-day, sir," cried the girls together. "And thank you ever so much." + +"Oh, girls," gasped Jeanne delightedly. "Isn't it fine? Twenty dollars! I +didn't think we'd make more than that altogether." + +"Here come more customers, Jeanne," cried Nellie excitedly. "Oh, but I +believe that we are going to have luck!" + +It was but the beginning. There was little leisure for the girls after +that. Their evident zeal and earnestness impressed the passers-by whose +hearts were already aglow with sympathy for the soldiers, and bills and +shinplasters poured in upon the little merchants until at dusk not an +article remained upon the steps. Then, tired but happy, they assembled +in Mrs. Vance's parlor to count the proceeds. + +"Two hundred dollars!" exclaimed Mr. Vance as the girls announced the +result in excited tones. "Why, girls, this is wonderful! The government +would better turn over its finances into your hands." + +"You blessed dears," cried Mrs. Vance, "it will do so much good! You +don't know how much that will buy, but you shall go with the committee +and see for yourselves." + +"We have done well," said Jeanne in congratulatory tones. + +"I don't believe that grown people could do any better," and Nellie Drew +gave her head a proud toss. + +"There's a little lame boy asking to see Miss Jeanne, ma'am," announced +a servant entering at this moment. "Shall I show him up?" + +"Yes, Susan. Who is it, Jeanne?" + +"It must be Eddie Farrell. He lives down on Fourth Avenue. His mother +washes for Nellie's mother, and they are awfully poor. He came by while +we were fixing our things and we told him all about what we were doing +and why we were doing it. How do you do, Eddie?" as the door opened to +admit the visitor. + +A little fellow not over ten years old, with great blue eyes that were +just now alight with eagerness, paused abruptly as he caught sight of +Mr. and Mrs. Vance. He made a pathetic looking figure as he stood in the +doorway. He was deplorably lame and leaned on a pair of rude crutches +for support, balancing in some way known only to himself, a long bundle +under his arm. + +"Have a chair, my boy," said Mr. Vance, kindly noticing his embarrassment. +"Did you wish to see Jeanne?" + +"Yes, sir." The boy sat down and then opened his bundle disclosing a pair +of well made crutches. "The girls told me what they wuz doing fer the +sogers and I've been thinking ever since what I could do. I didn't have +no money ner nuffin' ter give 'cepting these crutches. I thought mebbe +they'd do some pore feller some good what 'ud have his leg cut off." + +"But where did you get them?" queried Mr. Vance. + +"They wuz mine, sir. Bill, a sailor man I knows, he spliced on some pieces +to make 'em longer, and there they are, sir." + +"My lad," and Mr. Vance laid his hand softly on the boy's head, "it is a +great deal for you to give. You need them yourself." + +"I'll get along all right," said the boy eagerly. "'Deed I will, Mr. +Vance. See, Bill he rigged me up a pair that'll do me all right, an' +I'd like ter help some pore feller." + +Mr. Vance gazed pityingly at the rude substitutes which the boy held up, +and then looked at the crutches so deftly lengthened. His voice was husky +as he spoke: + +"It is a great gift. More than you should give." + +"It ain't nuthin'," answered the lad. "I feel fer the feller that is born +with two good legs an' then loses one of them." + +Mr. Vance nodded understandingly. Mrs. Vance's eyes were full to +overflowing as she stroked the boy's hair gently. + +"We'll write a little note and tie on the crutches," she said. "Then +whoever gets them will know who gave them." + +"That will be fine," cried the lad gleefully. "I'm so glad you'll take +them. I wuz afraid mebbe it wouldn't be enough ter give." + +"It is more than we have done," said Jeanne as soon as she was able to +speak. + +"Then good-bye," and Eddie arose. "I'll run back and tell mother." He +nodded to them and left the room, his face aglow with satisfaction. + +"We haven't done anything," said Jeanne emphatically. "We didn't give a +thing we could not do without. Oh, I feel so mean!" + +She looked at the girls tearfully, then drew a slender chain from her +throat, and detached the gold piece which was suspended from it. "There!" +she said, putting it with the bills on the table. "Uncle Joe gave me that +before he went to the army. After he was killed at Shiloh I thought I +would never part with it, but I am going to let it go for the soldiers +too." + +"It is good for us," said Nellie wiping her eyes. "We were awfully puffed +up over this fair. I was beginning to think that we had done something +great." + +Mr. Vance laughed. + +"You need not feel so bad, girls," he said. "If it had not been for you +that poor little fellow wouldn't have thought of giving his crutches." + +"I wish he had some though," remarked Jeanne wistfully. + +"Make your mind easy on that score, my dear, I'm going to look after that +boy." + +"And meantime you girls can go with me to the Association to carry the +money and the crutches, and we'll tell the ladies all about it," said Mrs. +Vance. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A GREAT UNDERTAKING + + +For a time affairs went on in their usual way, and the girls contented +themselves with hemming towels and handkerchiefs and making socks. That +is, all the girls save Jeanne Vance. With her the desire was stronger than +ever to do something more than she had done. + +"What makes you so thoughtful, Jeanne?" asked her father one evening +looking up from his paper. "You are as still as a mouse. Come, and tell me +all about it." + +"It's the country," said Jeanne settling herself comfortably on his lap +and laying her head on his shoulder. "I was thinking about our army and +how much there was to be done for it." + +"I am afraid that you think too much about the war," observed her father +soberly. "It is not good for you." + +"I can't help it, father. Dick's letters make me, and the work that you +and mother do keeps it always before me. I am the only one who doesn't do +much." + +"I am sure that you carried that fair through admirably, and have made +a number of articles for the soldiers. Best of all you are looking after +yourself so well that your mother and I can devote our whole time to the +cause. And that is a great deal, my little girl." + +"But I should like to do something else," persisted Jeanne. "It doesn't +seem as if I were helping one bit." + +"Very few of us can see the result of our labors. If you were in the +army it would be the same way. A soldier often has to obey orders for +which he can see no reason, but his disobedience might cause the loss +of a battle. We are all of us part of a great whole striving for the +same end. If each one does his part all will be well. If every little +girl in the country would do as much as you are doing, the amount of +work accomplished would be startling." + +"If I were a boy I could do more," sighed Jeanne. "It is very hard to be +'only a girl,' father." + +Mr. Vance laughed. + +"But since you are one, Jeanne, try to be contented. I am very thankful +for my daughter if she is 'only a girl.'" + +"You are troubled too," observed Jeanne presently, noting a look of +anxiety on her father's face. + +"Yes, child; I am." + +"Could you tell me about it, father? Perhaps it would help you. I feel +ever so much better since I have talked with you." + +"I am afraid that you cannot help me, child. If only Dick were here," and +he sighed. + +"Could I if I were a boy?" asked the girl, wistfully. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Vance unthinkingly. "If you were a boy, Jeanne, with +the same amount of brightness and common sense that you now have, I would +be strongly tempted to send you forth on some private business." + +"Oh, father!" Jeanne sat bolt upright. "Send me anyway. I am sure that I +could do it just as well as a boy." + +"But this would necessitate a journey into the enemy's country. A bright +boy could go through all right if he would exercise his wits, but a +tender, delicate girl like you! Why, I couldn't think of it!" + +"I could do just as well as a boy," declared Jeanne with conviction. "I +am sure that I could. Please let me try, father." + +"I am sorry that I spoke of it, child. I will tell you just what the +service is, and you will see the impossibility of any girl undertaking +it. In the cities both North and South there are men whose duty it is +to look after certain private matters for the government. In our +communications with each other we must be very guarded. We do not dare +to risk even the mails, because in almost every department of the +service there are traitors. In some mysterious manner the enemy becomes +aware of all our plans. Therefore we have tried and trusted men who are +our go betweens. On some occasions we have employed boys because they +could pass through the lines of the armies without being suspected of +carrying important information. But as it is a hazardous business we use +the boys only when there is no one else to send. Just at present our +men are all out, and even the few boys who are ordinarily available are +not on hand. That is why I spoke as I did." + +"Where would the boy have to go?" queried Jeanne, who had listened +attentively. + +"To New Orleans, dear. It is a long distance, and would be a perilous +journey. You see, Jeanne, how I am trusting you. You will be careful not +to repeat anything I say." + +"I understand perfectly, father. You need not fear when you tell me +anything. You could not be useful if others knew of your affairs." + +"That is it precisely, my daughter." + +"Is the errand important, father?" + +"Very." Mr. Vance thought she saw the impossibility of going and therefore +spoke more freely than he otherwise would have done. "I ought to send a +messenger not later than day after to-morrow with the documents, but I +fear that I shall have to let the matter rest until some of the men come +in, and then it may be too late." + +"Father, doesn't Uncle Ben live in New Orleans?" + +"Yes, Jeanne; why?" + +"Why couldn't I go down to see him, and carry these papers hidden about +me? The trains are still running, aren't they?" + +"Yes," said her father thoughtfully; "but those in the Southern States +are under Confederate control, you know." + +"Well, suppose I were to take the train from here to St. Louis," mapping +the route on her lap, "then from there I could go down the Mississippi +on a steamboat. St. Louis is for the Union, and New Orleans belongs to us +now too. I don't see much danger in that, father." + +"It sounds all right, little girl. The only flaw lies in the fact that +Vicksburg is not ours. If it were then the matter could be easily +arranged." + +"Don't you think that it will be ours soon, father?" + +"Yes, indeed," replied Mr. Vance with conviction. "With Farragut and +Porter on the river and this new man Grant who is making such a record +in charge of the land forces it will not be long before Vicksburg will +share the fate of Forts Henry and Donelson and Island No. 10. Indeed," +added he, for Mr. Vance in common with many others held the view that +the war could not be of long duration, "I feel sure that McClellan will +soon enter Richmond and that will virtually close the war. It is only a +question of days now before we shall see the end of this rebellion. The +administration is of the same opinion, because it has ceased to enlist +men for the army." + +"Then, father, it seems to me that there would be no risk in performing +this service for you. I feel sure that I could carry your papers safely +to New Orleans. It is not as if the country all belonged to the rebels. +There would be only one place to pass that is theirs: Vicksburg. I know +that our men can easily go by one place," she added confidently. + +"Your manner of taking hold of the matter almost persuades me to let you +try it, Jeanne," and Mr. Vance regarded his daughter with a new light in +his eyes. + +"Do," said Jeanne as calmly as she could, realizing that if she would +carry her point she must be very matter-of-fact. "You see, father, no +one would suspect a girl of carrying papers." + +"I don't know but that you are right, Jeanne. Still, I would not consider +the thing for an instant if my need were not so great. Should the papers +fall into the rebels' hands, not only would they secure important +information but they would also get the names of men whose death would +pay the penalty of discovery." + +"I understand," said the girl gravely. "But the rebels shall never get +them, father. I will destroy them first. They must be concealed about my +clothing in such a manner that even if I were searched they could not be +discovered. Not that I think that I shall be," she added hastily as a look +of alarm flitted over her father's face, "but it is just as well to be +prepared for emergencies." + +"What are you two plotting?" asked Mrs. Vance entering the room. "You +have been talking so earnestly that I thought that you were settling the +affairs of the nation." + +"We have been," answered Jeanne gaily. "I am going to New Orleans on +business for father." + +"Oh, Richard," came from Mrs. Vance in a wailing cry. "Not my girl too! +I have given my boy! Leave me my daughter." + +"Mother!" Jeanne sprang to her outstretched arms where she was folded +close to the mother's heart. "You don't understand. There is no danger. +Who would harm a girl like me?" + +"She shall not go, Dora, if you do not consent," spoke Mr. Vance +comfortingly. "My need for a messenger was so urgent that I spoke of +it before Jeanne, and the little witch has beguiled me into thinking that +she is the very one for the business." + +"Why of course I am," cried Jeanne in decided tones. "Let's sit down and +talk it over." + +"I don't like it," said Mrs. Vance after the matter had been explained. +"I am afraid that something will happen to you." + +"But, mother, what could happen? Even if I were to fall into the hands of +the Confederates what could they do to me? Men don't make war on girls." + +"I know that the Southern people are counted chivalrous," answered Mrs. +Vance, "but soldiers are usually rough fellows, and I would not like you +to be brought into contact with them even though they were our own boys." + +"Dick is a soldier, and he isn't a bit rough. They are all somebody's +sons, mother. I thought that you liked soldiers." + +"I do," assented Mrs. Vance wearily, "but I don't like the thought of +sending you where there is a chance of fighting. No one knows what might +happen." + +"Dick has to take a great many chances, and why should not I risk a little +for my country? Wouldn't you be willing to give your life for it, mother?" + +"Yes; but----" began the mother. + +"And I am your child," cried Jeanne, kissing her. "I can't help it, +mother. It's in the blood, and blood will tell, you know. Haven't I heard +you and father many a time relate what great things our ancestors did +in the Revolution? Well, you really can't expect anything else from +their descendants." + +"I suppose not," and Mrs. Vance stifled a sigh. "If it really would help +you, Richard." + +"It really would, Dora. If Jeanne can carry these papers to New Orleans +she is not only worth her weight in gold but she will do the government +a great service. She is energetic, resourceful and self-reliant. I +believe that she can get through without injury to herself or I should +not consider the thing a moment. As she says, why should harm come to +a girl? She would not be suspected where older people would be subjected +to the most searching scrutiny. The more that I think of it, the more +favorably does the idea strike me." + +"Then I must consent," Mrs. Vance smiled faintly though her face was very +white. "My country demands much of me, Richard." + +"It does, Dora. But please God when this rebellion is put down we shall +have such peace as the country has never enjoyed. Let us hope for the +best, dear." + +"When do I start, father?" broke in Jeanne. + +"I think to-morrow night. The sooner the better. I will see about your +transportation in the morning, and try to arrange to send you straight +through. Now, little girl, you must say good-night because we must be up +bright and early. There is a great deal to be done to-morrow." + +"Good-night," said Jeanne obediently, and kissing each tenderly she +retired to her room. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +STARTING FOR DIXIE + + +The next day passed all too quickly for the parents, but not for Jeanne. +She went about her preparations with an uplifted mien and a solemnity of +manner that at another time would have been amusing, but which under the +circumstances went to her mother's heart. + +"In this petticoat, dear, I have quilted the documents," said Mrs. Vance +as she dressed her for her departure. "It may be a little heavy, but +you need not wear so many skirts as you otherwise would, and perhaps it +will not be too warm. See how nicely it holds out your dress. It almost +answers the purpose of a pair of hoops." + +"Am I not to wear my hoops, mother?" + +"No, child. They are sometimes in the way, and as you have not yet learned +to manage them well, it would be best not. Your frock hangs out in quite +the approved style as it is." + +Jeanne glanced down at her attire complacently. + +"It does look stylish," she admitted. "I wonder if the rebel girls wear +hoops." + +"I dare say they do," answered the mother rather absently. Then overcome +by a rush of emotion she caught the girl to her. "Oh, Jeanne, I wonder +if I am doing right to let you go! What if some harm should come to you?" + +"Don't worry, mother," and Jeanne soothed her gently. "I feel sure that I +will get through safely." + +"I shall not be easy until I hold you in my arms again," said Mrs. Vance +mournfully. "But I must not make it hard for you to go, dear. You will +be careful, Jeanne." + +"Yes, mother." + +"And, child, you are loyal, I know, but you are very young. You are going +into the enemy's country, where disloyalty to the Union will be the +common utterance. Are you strong enough to bear all that you will hear and +still retain that fidelity unimpaired?" + +"Mother!" Jeanne spoke reproachfully. + +"Yes; I know that your heart is devoted to your country, but older ones +than you have been drawn from their allegiance. I only give this as a +caution because you have always been where nothing but the Union has been +talked. Now you are apt to hear just as much on the other side, and there +may be trials that will test your strength severely. I cannot but fear +that all will not go so smoothly as your father thinks. But, Jeanne, +whatever comes, bear yourself as a true American. Swerve not from the +allegiance due to your country. Let come what will, even death itself, +suffer it rather than for one moment to be false to your country. They +are my last words to you, my daughter. Be true to your country. Will you +remember?" + +"Yes," replied the girl solemnly. "Whatever comes I will be true to my +country." + +"I have made you this flag," continued Mrs. Vance, drawing a small United +States flag from the folds of her dress. "I began it some time ago as +a surprise for your birthday, but finished it last night for you to take +with you. Keep it about your person, and each night look upon it and pray +for the success of the Union." + +"And it is really my own," exclaimed Jeanne, delightedly, pressing the +silken folds to her lips. "It makes me so happy to have it, mother. I +never had one before that was all mine. See," folding it and placing it in +the bosom of her dress, "I will wear it over my heart that no disloyal +thought may find entrance there. I will bring it back to you unsullied." + +Her mother pressed her again to her breast. + +"I believe it, dear. Now kiss me, Jeanne. I hear your father coming for +you. Oh, 'tis hard to let you go!" She clasped her convulsively to her, +and caressed her repeatedly. + +"Are you ready, Jeanne?" asked Mr. Vance entering. "We have not much time +left." + +"I am all ready, father," answered Jeanne quickly catching up her satchel. +"Aren't you coming with us, mother?" + +"No, dear;" Mrs. Vance struggled bravely with her emotion. "I am going +to let your father have you for the last few moments alone. I have had you +all day, you know." + +Jeanne ran back to her for another embrace. + +"My child! My child!" whispered the mother passionately. "There! Go while +I can bear it." + +Unable to speak Jeanne followed her father to the carriage. + +"I am afraid that I have acted hastily in letting you undertake this +matter," said her father, drawing her to him. "In one way the fates are +propitious. The papers to-day announce the fall of Vicksburg. That leaves +the Mississippi entirely open and reduces the danger. Still it may be +exposing you to some risk, and it now seems to me unwise to saddle so +great a responsibility upon so young a girl. I wish there was some one +else to send." + +"Father, I am glad to be of service. I am so proud to think that you have +so trusted me. Now I am really doing something for the country. And I will +not betray your trust." + +"I know that you will be as true as steel," answered Mr. Vance tenderly. +"I do not fear that you will betray my confidence, but let me caution you +for yourself. Where have you concealed the papers?" + +"Mother quilted them in my petticoat," answered Jeanne. + +"Then try to forget where they are. I was once on the train where a girl +was traveling alone. She had evidently been warned against pickpockets, +for ever and anon she would start up and clap her hand to her pocket. Do +you see the point, daughter?" + +"It showed plainly where she kept her money," replied Jeanne promptly. + +"Exactly. If you keep fingering the petticoat it will show to every +one that there is something concealed there. Therefore forget all about +the papers if you can. Act as naturally as a little girl would going +to visit her uncle. There must of course be a reason for your going and I +have provided for that in this way. Quinine is a contraband article +and highly prized in the South. This basket has a false bottom. Above +is a lunch for your journey and underneath a quantity of quinine. You +may get through without falling into the Confederates' hands but it +is just as well to be prepared for emergencies, as you remarked last +night. Should you happen to be taken by them and they question you too +closely, finally confess about the quinine. It will be a point in your +favor that you have smuggled it through the Union lines. Should they +take it no matter. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"I have secured transportation to Memphis, Tennessee," continued Mr. +Vance. "It brings you closer to New Orleans and leaves a shorter distance +to be traversed by water. You will have to change cars twice. Once at +Washington City which you can do easily as you have been there a number +of times. The other is at Cincinnati, Ohio. Do you think you can manage +it?" + +"Why, of course I can," said Jeanne proudly. "It isn't as if I had never +been anywhere." + +"Yes, that makes a difference," assented her father. "Yet, my child, +remember that before you have been accompanied by either your mother or +me. Now you will have to rely entirely upon yourself. This is a letter +for Commodore Porter who is a friend of mine, and who is somewhere on +the Mississippi. Ask for him as soon as you reach Memphis. If he is not +there there will be others on our side who will carry you down the river +after reading the letter. If at any time you are in doubt what to do +go to the hospitals. There are always women there who will gladly give +whatever aid you may need. And here is money." + +"Mother gave me some," interrupted Jeanne who had listened with the +closest attention. + +"Yes; that is in your purse, which is in the satchel, is it not?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, take this also. I had this bag made to hold it." He put a roll of +bills into an oilskin bag and drew the cord so that the opening closed +tightly together. "Wear that about your neck, child, and keep it hidden +under your dress," he said. "Keep that always about you as a reserve fund. +So long as you have money you can get along pretty well. Take out what +you need from time to time, carrying only a small amount in your purse. +Above all beware of talking too freely to strangers. Now for the final +instructions: you are going to New Orleans to visit your Uncle Ben. When +you reach there ask him to direct you to Mr. ------," here he whispered +in her ear. "Speak that name to no person. When you have delivered the +papers into his hands your duty is done. Stay with your uncle until you +hear from me. I will write you how to come home. Now, Jeanne, I think +that this is all I have to say. If anything should happen that these +arrangements fail, don't run any danger but return home. You see that I +am leaving a great deal to your judgment. Can you remember everything +that I have said?" + +"Yes. And you may be sure that I will do just as you tell me. It seems +to me that everything has been thought of and that there is no chance of +failing." + +"Sometimes the best laid plans are thwarted," said her father gravely. "It +may not be a very wise thing to send my daughter on such an errand, but +you are such a sensible little thing that I feel as if you would succeed." + +"I will," said Jeanne determinedly. "I want to be worthy of my name, +father. Did not another Jeanne not much older than I lead the Dauphin of +France to a crown? Surely then I can do this thing which is small in +comparison." + +"I am afraid we did wrong in giving you such a name," remarked her father +smilingly. "How full of the martial spirit you are, Jeanne. I believe +that you would undertake the capture of Jeff Davis if I asked you to." + +"I would," exclaimed the girl with a look that boded ill for the rebel +president. "Perhaps we will try it yet." + +"We will get through this affair first, my dear. Here we are at the +station. We'll have to make a run for that train." + +They had taken a ferry during the conversation and by this time had +reached Jersey City. Running through the gates they boarded the train +just as the signal was given to pull out. + +"My little girl, good-bye," murmured Mr. Vance, clasping her to him for a +brief second. "God bless and keep you, Jeanne. May He bring you safely +back. Be brave," he added, as he saw Jeanne's lips quivering. + +"I will," sobbed Jeanne, breaking down completely as her father started +away. "Oh, father, kiss me just once more." + +"Is it too much for you, my little girl?" Mr. Vance held her closely. "You +need not go, Jeanne." + +"I want to. I am all right," gasped Jeanne, controlling herself by an +effort. "Now go, father, dear. See how brave I am." + +She smiled up at him through her tears. Mr. Vance regarded her anxiously. + +"Go," whispered Jeanne as the train began to move. Hastily her father +left her. Jeanne leaned from the window and waved her hand as long as she +could see him. But soon the train rounded a curve and he was lost to view. +Then leaning back in her seat she gave herself up to her tears. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A TIMELY RENEWAL OF ACQUAINTANCE + + +Jeanne sobbed unrestrainedly for some time. A sense of forlornness +oppressed her, and the magnitude of the task she had undertaken weighed +upon her spirits. As Mr. Vance had said she had never traveled alone +before, and now that she had actually started upon the journey a +thousand fears assailed her. The idea of being engaged upon a mission +that involved something of risk had seemed a noble thing, and easy of +accomplishment in her own home. Here, lacking the sustaining presence of +her parents, and the relaxation after the excitement of the day, made +the enterprise seem formidable indeed. So absorbed was she in her +meditations that she had not noticed the other occupants of the coach, +but presently there was borne in upon her senses the sound of singing. + +"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed with a nervous start. + +"Some soldiers on their way to Washington," answered a lady who sat behind +her. + +Jeanne's interest was aroused at once, and she looked about her. In the +rear of the car were a number of soldiers clad in blue. They seemed in +high spirits and were singing lustily: + + "'Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, + We'll rally once again, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom; + We will rally from the hillside, + We will rally from the plain, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'" + +"They are going to the war with a song upon their lips, perhaps to be +killed, while I am afraid because I am alone," mused Jeanne, her lip +curling in self-contempt. "I don't believe that girls amount to much after +all." + + "'We are marching to the field, boys, + Going to the fight, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom! + And we'll bear the glorious Stars + Of the Union and the Right, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'" + +"I will be brave," and the girl sat up very straight. "I will not be +afraid any more, for I, too, am battling for the right. I am just as truly +serving my country as they are, and I will be just as brave. Besides, +father would be sorry if he knew that I felt so bad." + +Drying her eyes she listened attentively to the soldiers as they sang, +one after another, the martial airs that had become so popular since the +breaking out of the war. After a little time they struck up "The Star +Spangled Banner," and then there followed a scene that the girl never +forgot. Men, women and children caught the enthusiasm and, rising to their +feet, joined in the song. Jeanne sang too, as she had never sung before. +The words held a new meaning for her. She felt once more an exaltation +of spirit and a kinship with these brave fellows who were willing to give +their lives for their country. What was danger, disease or life itself, +if she could be of service in ever so small a way? + + "''Tis the Star Spangled Banner, + O long may it wave + O'er the land of the free + And the home of the brave.'" + +A mighty shout went up as the final chorus was rendered, and three cheers +for the flag were given with a vim that mingled musically with the rush +and roar of the train. Flushed and breathless Jeanne sank back into her +seat, her eyes shining, her cheeks glowing, her whole being thrilled with +patriotic fervor. She was no longer fearful and lonely, but eager and +ready to do and dare all things needful for the success of her mission. + +And so when Washington was reached the girl took up her satchel with quite +the air of an old traveler and, accosting an official, asked about her +train with the utmost self-possession. + +She had but a short time to wait before she was once more flying across +the country en route for Cincinnati. The night passed without incident. +The journey was tiresome but so uneventful that she became imbued with +confidence in her ability to travel alone and made her change to the +Memphis and Charleston Railroad for Memphis at Cincinnati without trouble. + +The day had been very warm and as Jeanne took her seat in the coach she +heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the sun sinking to his rest. + +"It will be cooler now," she said to herself, settling comfortably back +in the cushions. "I am glad that I have the seat to myself." + +But to her dismay at the next station a rough-looking man entered the car +and took possession of the seat beside her. The girl looked intently out +of the window, after her first glance at the fellow, inwardly hoping that +his journey would not be a long one. For some time the man did not pay +any attention to her, then he turned abruptly and said: + +"Do you want that window down?" + +"No; thank you," returned Jeanne adopting the manner she had seen her +mother use towards people of whom she did not approve. + +The man eyed her narrowly, but the girl preserved her composure under his +scrutiny. + +"What's yer got in yer basket?" he demanded presently. + +A look of indignation flashed over Jeanne's face. She opened her lips to +reply. "None of your business," as some of the girls she knew would have +done, but something that her mother had once said came into her mind just +as she was about to make the retort. + +"My dear," her mother had said, "no matter how rudely others may behave, +be a lady. Because some one else has been impolite does not excuse it in +you." + +As this came to Jeanne she closed her lips resolutely and, turning her +back very decidedly, looked out of the window. + +"Yer needn't put on any of yer airs with me," growled the fellow, who was +evidently in a surly humor. "Can't yer answer a civil question?" + +Still Jeanne made no reply, and the man reached out to take hold of her +basket. But the girl was too quick for him, and lifting it into her lap +held on to it tightly while she placed her feet upon her satchel. + +"Yer needn't be so spunky," said the fellow sheepishly. "I jest wanted +to see if yer didn't have somethin' to eat." + +"If you are hungry, you should have said so," said Jeanne, relaxing +instantly, for her warm heart was always open to appeals of this nature. +She opened her basket and took out some dainty sandwiches. "You are +quite welcome to what you wish to eat," she said graciously, "but you +were not very nice about asking for it." + +"A feller don't stop fer manners," said the man nibbling at the sandwiches +gingerly, "when he's as hungry as I am. Is that all ye've got in there?" + +"I have some more lunch," said Jeanne rather indignantly, for the fellow +did not seem very ravenous for a hungry man. "I shall keep that for the +rest of my journey." + +"Whar yer goin'? Ain't yer got nobody with yer?" queried the man a gleam +coming into his eyes. + +"Don't you think that you are rather inquisitive?" questioned Jeanne +boldly. "Why should you want to know where I am going?" + +"Because folks have to be keerful in times like these," said the other +brusquely. "Haven't yer got some money too?" + +"I have none to give you," answered Jeanne. "And I would rather that you +would not sit by me any longer. Will you please go away?" + +"Not if I knows myself and I think I do," laughed the man. "See here! I'll +go away if you will give me your purse. I know that it's in that there +basket. You take too much care of it fer it only ter hold yer food. Now +give it to me quick." + +"I won't," said Jeanne determinedly clinging to the basket, for she had +put her purse there after buying some fruit. "If you touch this basket +I'll scream and the people will know what you are doing." + +"Pooh! I'll tell them that you are my crazy sister that I'm taking to an +asylum," said the fellow easily. "Now you'd better give me that money." + +"People would know that I was not your sister," exclaimed the girl +scornfully. "You don't look in the least like my brother. Now, sir, go +away." + +"Not without that money. Sit down," he commanded gruffly as the girl half +rose from her seat. + +Jeanne cast a wild, imploring look about her for help and sank back in her +seat despairingly, for the passengers seemed intent upon other concerns, +and the noise of the train prevented the conversation from being overheard. + +"Are you going to hand out that money?" + +"Ye-es," faltered Jeanne, reaching for her purse. + +"What do you mean by frightening this girl?" demanded a voice, and a hand +was laid upon the ruffian's shoulder. "Get out of my seat, you rascal, +or I'll have you thrown off the car." + +A cry of delight escaped Jeanne's lips as she saw that the man who +had come to her assistance was the old gentleman who had bought the +handkerchiefs from her during the fair. + +"I--I did not mean any harm," stammered the fellow, resigning the seat +with alacrity. "I was jest trying ter scare the girl a little." + +"Well, let me catch you 'jest trying ter scare her,' any more, and it will +be the worse for you," cried the old gentleman threateningly. "Now clear +out, and let me see no more of you." + +The fellow slunk off and her friend in need took the seat by Jeanne's side. + +"That fellow was annoying you terribly, was he not?" + +"Yes, sir; I was very much frightened, especially when he demanded my +money." + +"What! Did he do that? Why the scamp! This is worse than I thought. I'll +get the conductor after him." + +"Oh, let him go," pleaded Jeanne, who was quite a little upset by the +episode. "Please stay with me." + +"Very well." The old man saw her nervousness and acquiesced willingly. +"He can't get off the train so long as this rate of speed is kept up, and +I'll see about getting him later. Now tell me all about it." + +Jeanne gave him a succinct account of what the man had said and done. +"And I was so glad when you came up as you did," she said in finishing. +"But I did not expect to see you here, sir, and I thank you so much for +your assistance." + +"Tut, tut! It is every American's duty to look after women folks when +they travel alone. I had just come from the smoker and saw as I entered +the door that something was wrong. As the ruffian had my seat I came up +at once and demanded it of him. But you are not more surprised to see me +than I was to recognize the little patriot of the handkerchiefs. Aren't +you a long way from home?" + +"Yes, sir; I am, but I am going to visit my Uncle Ben in New Orleans." + +"Rather a troublesome time for a visit," remarked the other musingly. Then +as a deep flush suffused the girl's cheek, he added keenly, "I know that +there are sometimes reasons why visits should be made even though the +times be perilous. There! I am not going to ask any questions, so don't +look at me like that. My name is Emanuel Huntsworth, and I live near +Corinth, Mississippi. I was formerly a New Englander but settled in the +South a number of years ago. My Union sentiments having made me obnoxious +to my neighbors I feared for the safety of my family and am returning +from moving them North. I am going back now to wind up my business, +when I shall go North once more to do what I can for the government. If +you have no friends with you, perhaps you have no objections to my company +as far as our ways lie together." + +"I should be pleased to be with you," said Jeanne sweetly. "I am all +alone, Mr. Huntsworth. My name is Jeanne Vance, and I live in New York +City. I was all right until I got on this train, but now I can't help +but be a little uneasy since that man acted so." + +"The rascal! I had forgotten him. Conductor," as that individual came by. +"I think there is a man on this train that will bear watching." Thereupon +he related the incident to the official. + +"I will look after the fellow," said the conductor. + +But search failed to reveal the presence of the man on the train and soon +Mr. Huntsworth and Jeanne were convinced that, fearing the consequences +of his actions, he had jumped from the train. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS + + +"You must be very tired," remarked Mr. Huntsworth, as the train drew in +at the Memphis station. "It has been a long hard trip, and if you'll take +my advice you will stay here for a day or two before trying to go farther +on your journey." + +"Oh, I must not," exclaimed Jeanne quickly. "I must get to New Orleans +just as soon as I can. It is very necessary." + +"Necessary, eh?" The old gentleman regarded her with a quizzical +expression on his face. "Why should you be so anxious to see your +uncle? You must be very fond of him. Have you visited him often?" + +"No, sir," answered Jeanne in some confusion. "I never saw him in my life. +He went to New Orleans and engaged in business there long before I was +born. Father hasn't heard from him for a number of years." + +"Then isn't it rather queer for your father to choose such a time as this +for you to pay him a visit?" queried Mr. Huntsworth keenly. "Now don't +be alarmed, child," he added hastily as Jeanne looked up in a startled +manner while the color mounted to cheek and brow. "I do not wish you +to tell me any of your secrets if you have any. I presume that there are +just and sufficient reasons for you to go or you would not be going. I +merely wished to show you that over anxiety to reach your destination +might subject you to suspicion. Also tell no one else that you have never +seen your uncle. If you do, others beside myself will wonder why you +have been sent to him at a time like this. You don't mind my telling +you this, little girl, do you?" + +"No, indeed," returned Jeanne warmly. "I am very glad that you did so. +Father says that one way to learn things is to listen to older people. But +I will be truly glad to see Uncle Ben. Father has told me so much about +him. He was his favorite brother, and my brother, Dick, is named for him +and for father too. Richard Benjamin Vance." + +Mr. Huntsworth's eyes twinkled, and he gave a low chuckle of appreciation. + +"My dear," said he, "just answer every one who asks you questions in the +way you have me, and you'll come out all right. Of course you would +want to see your uncle under those circumstances." Again he chuckled +and looked at her approvingly. "She knows that I am her friend," he +mused, "yet she will not tell me why she is sent down here. That there is +some reason for it I am convinced. A very remarkable girl!" Aloud he +continued, "Here we are at Memphis, child. What shall you do now?" + +"It is so near night that I guess that I'd better go to a hotel," said +Jeanne. "That is what father always does first. Then to-morrow morning I +want to find Commodore Porter. I have a letter for him." + +"Porter is down the river with Farragut. I doubt if you will be able to +find him. But we'll see in the morning. The thing to do is to get a good +night's rest after this journey. Here is a cab for the Gayoso House. I +always stop there. It is a good place, and overlooks the river. Have you +ever seen the Mississippi before?" + +"No," answered Jeanne trying to look about in the gathering darkness. +"It's a great river, isn't it?" + +"None greater," answered Mr. Huntsworth enthusiastically. "Whichever side +of this struggle holds it will be the winning side. It is the backbone of +the rebellion, and the key to the whole situation." + +"But we hold it, sir," said Jeanne earnestly. "My father says that now +that Vicksburg is taken it will not be long before Richmond will fall and +then the rebellion will be over." + +"Pray God that your father may be right," said Mr. Huntsworth. "But I +fear that he is mistaken. These Southerners are not so easily whipped. +Every inch of the Confederacy will have to be conquered before they will +acknowledge themselves beaten. The North makes the same mistake as the +South does. Each forgets that both are of the same Anglo-Saxon blood that +never knows defeat. I fear the struggle will be a long and bloody one, +all the more bitter for being waged between brothers." + +"I hope that it will not be long," sighed Jeanne. "I shouldn't like for +Dick to have to be away much longer." + +"Is your brother in the army, my dear?" + +"Yes, sir. Father works for the government, mother belongs to The Woman's +Central Relief Association, and I make socks and hem handkerchiefs for +the soldiers, and----" she paused suddenly, conscious that she was about +to speak of the object of her journey. + +"And you hold fairs to tempt the shekels from the unwary, eh?" completed +Mr. Huntsworth. "Well, you are certainly a patriotic family. This is the +Gayoso House, child. It has been the resort of all the noted Southerners. +It is too dark for you to see the river, but you can hear its murmurings." + +Jeanne leaned forward eagerly. The soft lapping of the water, as it beat +against the foot of the bluff upon which the city stood, came gently to +her ears. + +"I wish I could see it," she exclaimed. + +"You can in the morning. Meantime, let's get some supper. Here, boy," to a +porter, "don't you see that we are waiting to be shown to the dining-room?" + +"Yes, sah. Right dis way, sah," responded the negro, his ivories relaxing +into a broad grin. "Glad ter see yer back, sah. We all's mighty sorry ter +heah dat you is gwine ter go norf, sah." + +"Who told you that I was going North, you black rascal?" demanded Mr. +Huntsworth. "I've been North. Have just gotten back. Here, take this, +and tell that waiter to hurry up with that supper." + +"Yes, sah. Thank ye, sah," answered the black pocketing the shinplaster +slipped into his hand, with alacrity. + +"I think I never saw so many negroes before," remarked Jeanne, looking +about the dining-room. "Where do they all come from?" + +"You'll see a great many more before you go back to New York," responded +Mr. Huntsworth. "The South literally teems with them. If the race only +knew its power it would not leave its battles to be fought by the North. +A while ago I said the Mississippi was the key to the rebellion. I was +mistaken. It is dar-key." + +Jeanne laughed merrily. + +"My dear child, did you see the point?" cried the old gentleman +delightedly. "That is indeed an accomplishment! Now my daughter, +Anne, is a good girl. An excellent girl, but she not only cannot make +a pun, but neither can she see one when it is made. I have a little +weakness that way myself." + +"We used to, Dick, father and I, to make them at home. But we did it so +much that mother stopped us. She said that it wasn't refined--I am sure +that I beg your pardon," she broke off in great distress. + +"There! Don't take it so to heart," laughed Mr. Huntsworth good-naturedly. +"I know that it isn't just the thing to pun, but + + "'A little nonsense now and then + Is relished by the best of men.' + +"Then, too, we have the example of the immortal Shakespeare. But I won't +indulge again before you, my dear." + +"Oh, but I like them," cried Jeanne. "I think mother stopped us because +we did nothing else for a time. But she used to laugh at some of them +herself. She did, truly." + +"Well, well, of course if you enjoy them that is another thing. Perhaps +you can tell when a boy is not a boy." + +"I can beat any sort of a drum but a conundrum," was Jeanne's quick reply. + +"My, my, but I shall have to look to my laurels," exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth +in mock alarm. "That was very bright." + +"It's Dick's," confessed Jeanne blushing. "He is so clever. He could +always think of something good to say." + +"You think a great deal of Dick, don't you?" + +"Yes, sir; we are very proud of him. And his Colonel has complimented him +twice for bravery," and Jeanne's eyes lighted up with pride. "He went at +the first call for troops. I'll never forget the day he asked father if he +might go. 'It's our country's need, father,' he said, standing there so +brave and handsome. 'No Vance has ever turned a deaf ear to that, sir.' +And father said, 'My son, if you feel it your duty, go, and God be with +you.' O, you should see Dick, sir," she continued, enthusiastically. +"There is no one quite like him." + +"Perhaps I may some day. I should like to very much. I do not wonder at +his bravery since every one of you are so devoted to the cause. Now, my +little girl, you had best retire. I am sure that you must be tired." + +Jeanne rose instantly and, bidding him good-night, was shown to her room. +She was up bright and early the next morning, and, dressing quickly ran +down the stairs and out on the gallery eager to take a look at the city. + +The Gayoso House fronted upon a wide esplanade which extended along +the bluff in front of the town. Blocks of large warehouses and public +buildings bordered the esplanade on the same side as the hotel. The city +was beautifully situated on the Mississippi River just below the mouth of +the Wolf River, and located upon what was known as the fourth Chickasaw +Bluff, an elevation about forty feet high. + +Below the bluff ran the river, and far to the right was what had been a +naval depot established by the United States but used until the recent +capitulation of Memphis by the Confederates for the purpose of building +vessels of their own. To Jeanne, accustomed to New York City, Memphis +seemed very small indeed. It was in reality a place of about twelve +thousand inhabitants and considered a flourishing little city, being +the port of entry for Shelby County, Tennessee. At one time it was the +most important town on the river between St. Louis and New Orleans. + +But if the girl was disappointed in the size of the place, the beauty of +the surroundings made up for it. She gave an ecstatic "Oh," at the +sight of the broad esplanade with the noble river washing the base of +the bluff which jutted out into a bed of sandstone that formed a +natural landing for boats. Several steamboats lay at anchor and Jeanne's +attention was drawn to them by the singing of the blacks as they +hurried to and from the wharf loading the steamers with freight. It was +a weird plantation refrain in the minor key. Jeanne had never heard +anything like it, and she listened intently as the song grew louder and +louder as the enthusiasm of the blacks increased: + + "Ma sistah, done you want to get religin? + Go down in de lonesum valley, + Go down in de lonesum valley, + Go down in de lonesum valley, ma Lohd, + To meet ma Jesus dar." + +Over and over they sang the refrain, and the girl was so interested that +she did not hear Mr. Huntsworth's approach. + +"Well, what do you think of the South?" he asked. + +"I like it. Mr. Huntsworth, just listen to those negroes sing. Isn't it +musical?" + +"They call them niggers here," said Mr. Huntsworth smiling. "Yes; their +singing is melodious. I have always liked to listen to it. Sometime in +the future, I fancy, more will be made of those melodies than we dream +of now. When you go down the river you will hear more of it. Some of +their songs are very quaint. Do you know that we will have to see General +Wallace to obtain a permit to go into the enemy's country?" + +"General Wallace?" repeated Jeanne. "Why?" + +"The town is under martial law with General Wallace in command. I have +been wondering what will be the best for you to do. To come with me to +Corinth, for we can go there without difficulty, or for you to stick to +the river route as you had intended. I have learned that Vicksburg is not +in our hands after all. Its capitulation was a false report. Farragut is +waiting for Halleck to send troops to occupy it and is still keeping up +the bombardment." + +"But a boat could get through, could it not?" + +"Yes; I think so. Davis guards the stream above Vicksburg while the +Commodore holds the lower part. I'll talk with General Wallace about it. +Meantime after we have had breakfast you can walk along this esplanade, +and see something of the place. You will not get lost, will you?" + +"No, indeed," laughed Jeanne. "I came from New York, you know. I should +be able to get around a little place like this." + +"Very well, then." + +Jeanne donned her hat and wandered along the wide esplanade viewing the +city, the river and the surrounding country. She walked on and on until +finally she had wandered some distance from the hotel and the buildings +were growing farther and farther apart when she was startled by a groan. + +Looking about her she beheld a young fellow of about twenty-one years clad +in the blue uniform of the United States lying upon the ground. Without +a thought but that one of the soldiers was suffering Jeanne sprang to +his side and knelt beside him. + +"What is it?" she cried. "Are you hurt?" + +"Just faint," murmured the young man in a weak voice, and the girl noted +with surprise the Southern accent. "I'll be all right in a moment." + +"Smell this." Jeanne thrust her bottle of smelling salts under his nose, +and began to chafe his forehead vigorously. "There! You're better now, +aren't you?" + +"Much better." The young fellow struggled to a sitting posture and smiled +wanly. "What a good little thing you are!" + +"Well, I like soldiers," said Jeanne. "My brother, Dick, is one, and +whenever I see a soldier suffering I always want to do something for him. +You are fighting for us, you know. Are you sick?" + +"No; but I have been. I just came out of the hospital a few days ago, and +I am not so strong as I thought." + +"You should go home and stay until you get well," said the girl with a +quaint assumption of maternal authority. + +"Home! I have none." The young man's brow darkened. "If I were to go to my +home, I would be spurned from its doors." + +"But why?" cried Jeanne. + +"Listen, and you shall hear, child. I am a native of the state of +Louisiana. I was educated at West Point, and when the war broke out had +just graduated. You know the conditions under which we are entered, do you +not?" + +Jeanne shook her head. + +"We are to serve the country four years for the education given, so when +the war came I felt it my duty to give those four years. I went to my +father and told him so briefly. 'Never darken my door again while you +wear that uniform,' he said. 'You are no son of mine if you side in with +a horde of miscreants sent to invade the sacred soil of the South.' I told +him that it was my duty. That I had but just graduated and that my honor +demanded that I should repay my debt to the government, but he would not +listen. So I left him." + +"But have you no friends?" asked Jeanne, her face aglow with compassion. + +"Friends? No; they fight on the other side," was the bitter reply. "And +what do these Yankees care for me? They don't realize what I have given +up." + +"But we do care," cried the girl. "My father and mother just love +soldiers. Oh, if you would only go to them they would care for you. Do +go. Will you?" + +A smile lighted up the young man's face as he noted her warmth. + +"I wish all your people were like you," he said. "It would not be so hard +to do my duty then." + +"We are all just alike," said Jeanne. "My father would be proud to have +you honor his house. And you are an officer, too," she added, glancing at +his epaulets. + +"Only a lieutenant." + +"Well, it doesn't matter what you are since you are a soldier. Have you +a pencil and paper?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"I want to give you my father's address. You will go there, won't you?" + +"My little girl," the young man's voice was husky. "I couldn't do that, +you know. Why, it would be monstrous to intrude upon them." + +"No; it would not," declared Jeanne. "I wish I were going home. I'd make +you go with me. But won't you go? Truly they would welcome you as if +you were Dick, my brother. And if you don't go, I'll always feel as if +something had happened to you just because you had no place to go. You +have done a great deal for our side, you know." + +"Well, I'll promise," said the soldier a little wearily, as if it were +beyond his strength to prolong the argument. "Where do they live?" + +"In New York City," and Jeanne rapidly penciled the address. + +"Then it is utterly out of the question. I can't promise you." + +"I know," said Jeanne quickly. "You haven't any money." + +A flush passed over the Lieutenant's face. + +"Soldiers never do have, Dick says," went on the girl, taking out her +purse in a matter-of-fact way. + +"No--no, I--I can't do that," groaned the soldier. "Merciful goodness, has +it come to this? That I should receive charity from a child!" + +"It isn't charity," cried Jeanne hotly. "You can pay it back to my father +if you like. I want you to get good and strong so that you can fight for +us again." + +"I'll do it," exclaimed the young fellow impulsively. "A few weeks' rest +would put new life in me. And I'll be your soldier, little girl." + +"Will you?" cried Jeanne delightedly. "That will be most as good as if I +could fight myself, won't it?" + +"Every bit," declared the Lieutenant rising. "God bless you, child. Such +warm hearts as yours make life seem worth the living after all." + +He raised her hand to his lips. Then as if afraid to trust himself to +speak further left her abruptly. Excited and happy Jeanne ran back to +the hotel where she found Mr. Huntsworth waiting for her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +IN DIXIE LAND + + +"Oh, Mr. Huntsworth," she cried, "I have something to tell you," and she +rapidly related the incident of the young Lieutenant. + +"Are you sure the fellow was telling the truth?" queried the old man +smiling at her enthusiasm. "Sometimes rascals tell all sorts of stories in +order to get money." + +"This man was a gentleman and I know he was truthful. He didn't want +to take the money at all. I had to plead with him to get him to do it. +Besides he did not speak to me until I had spoken to him first. He was +not strong enough for duty and he showed it." + +"Then, my dear, you have done a noble thing. If the young man told the +truth his position is indeed a sad one. His rebel kinsmen would turn from +him if he espoused the cause of the Union and his duty is doubly hard that +he must fight against father, home, neighbors and friends. I am afraid +that we do not appreciate all that a man gives up when, a Southerner by +birth, he throws his lot in with ours. Many high-minded men have gone +with the South because their state went that way, and it takes nobleness +indeed to rise above the call of one's own state when the government +demands the sacrifice. I should like to have seen the young fellow. Did he +give his name?" + +"Why, I did not think to ask it," exclaimed Jeanne. "But father will know +of course." + +"So you really believe that he will go to your father's." + +"Certainly I do." + +"Oh, for the faith of childhood," exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. "But whether +he does or not you seemed to have infused new life into him and that is +what a man needs most when he is discouraged. You are a true patriot, +child. But now, my little Quixote, let's go to General Wallace. I have +explained everything to him, but he desires to see you personally." + +The headquarters of Gen. Lewis Wallace who was at this time in charge of +the city of Memphis were soon reached, and Jeanne and her friend were +ushered into his presence. A man of medium height, rather slender in +build, stern of feature but whose eyes beamed with kindness, serious of +mien and visage and habited in a plain suit of blue flannel with two +stars upon his shoulders denoting a Major-General in the United States +Army, rose to greet them. Full of chivalric dash, possessing a cool head +with a capacity for large plans and the steady nerve to execute whatever +he conceived, the young General was an interesting figure and Jeanne +gazed at him with some curiosity. + +"So, my little maid," said the General. "You wish to go to New Orleans?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Jeanne returning his scrutiny modestly. + +"Do you not know that it will be a difficult matter to do so? Farragut +is still storming the batteries of Vicksburg and while a transport goes +this morning to take supplies to Captain Davis, and you could go down that +far on it, still it is scarcely the time for a girl to make a visit." + +"I must go, General," said Jeanne firmly. + +"Will you tell me why, my child?" + +"I cannot, sir." + +"But I cannot let you subject yourself to danger unless there is some +necessity for it. It seems to me that a mere visit could be postponed +until a safer season. Now unless there are urgent reasons for it I feel +compelled to forbid your going." + +"Sir," said Jeanne blushing at her temerity yet speaking boldly +notwithstanding, "there are urgent reasons for my going. I do not wish to +tell them because they concern the government. But my father would not +have let me come had there not been necessity." + +"You surely do not mean that you are an emissary of the government?" +exclaimed the General in surprise. "Why, you are but a little girl." + +"But exceedingly patriotic, General," interrupted Mr. Huntsworth. "She +has given a fair to raise money for the soldiers, made I don't know +how many shirts, socks and handkerchiefs and just now emptied her purse +to send a soldier home to her parents to be taken care of. Best of all +she can relish a pun when she hears one which you will agree is a rare +accomplishment for a girl or even a woman. Oh, she is capable of anything." + +"I believe it," laughed the General. "I fear that I shall have to give +up before such a formidable array of accomplishments. Have you really done +all those things?" + +"All but the shirts," answered Jeanne shyly, "mother makes those. You +see father works for the government, mother is in the Women's Relief +Association and Dick is in the army, so I just had to do something to +help too." + +"I see," said the General. "What is your father's name?" + +"Richard Vance, sir." + +"Richard Vance!" exclaimed the General. "Oh! I understand everything now. +You shall go to New Orleans, child, if our boats can get you there. The +transport will start in an hour. Can you be ready to go by that time?" + +"I am ready now, sir." + +"That is the bearing of a true soldier," approved the General. "I will +give you a letter to Farragut----" + +"I have one to Commodore Porter, sir," interrupted Jeanne, producing the +missive. "He is my father's friend." + +"That is all right," General Wallace hastily scanned the letter. "But I +will add a few lines to Farragut. Success to you, my child." + +"Thank you, sir," answered Jeanne gratefully. + +"Now we will amuse ourselves by walking about a little until the transport +starts," said Mr. Huntsworth as they left the room. "My train goes this +afternoon." + +"Then I shall have to tell you good-bye soon," said the girl regretfully. +"I am sorry, Mr. Huntsworth. You have been very kind to me. My journey +would not have been so easy had it not been for you." + +"Tut, tut, I have done nothing," said the old gentleman. "I have pleased +myself in helping you. I was glad to have such a bright little companion. +And we shall meet again, my dear. I promise you that. I am not going to +lose sight of my little comrade easily. I want to bring my daughter, Anne, +to see you when you get home." + +"I wish you would," replied Jeanne. "I should like to know her. Mr. +Huntsworth, don't you think I might send a telegram to my father from +here to let him know that I am all right and about to start for New +Orleans?" + +"Why, bless my soul, child! That is the very thing to do! What a head you +have! There is the office on the other side of the street." + +"Yes; that was what made me think of it." + +The telegram dispatched, the two wended their way to Jackson Park. + +The statue of the old hero of New Orleans stood in the centre of the +green. It was inclosed by a circular iron fence and ornamented by +carefully trained shrubbery. The bust of the hero was placed on the +top of a plain shaft of marble about eight feet high. On the north side +of the shaft was an inscription. + +"Look!" exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. "Some rampant rebel has marred that +inscription." + +Jeanne looked and saw the writing which read "The Federal Union: It +Must be Preserved"--the words Federal and Union had been chipped out, +presenting an appearance as if a small hammer had been struck across them. + +"The villain!" continued the old gentleman irascibly. "He ought to be hung +who ever he is!" + +"It is a pity," said Jeanne. "Isn't this a cruel war, Mr. Huntsworth, +that the things both the North and South have been so proud of now become +hateful to one part of the country? I never thought so much about it until +since I met that young man this morning." + +"It is a terrible thing for brothers to be arrayed against each other as +we are," assented Mr. Huntsworth. "But don't think about it too much. It +is a pity that your young life should be clouded by the knowledge. You +think too much for your age." + +"I am better for it," said Jeanne. "Wouldn't it be dreadful for me to +laugh and play and be glad all day when the country is in peril? Every +one ought to think." + +"Perhaps you are right. But sometimes I have heard you say things that +made me think you a bit uncanny, as the Scotch say. I am going to advise +your father to turn you out to grass when the war is over. I suppose it +would be useless to urge such a thing so long as the war continues." + +"'To turn me out to grass,'" laughed Jeanne. "What a funny expression. +Do you mean for me to live in the fields like the cows and the horses?" + +"Well, something on that order," smiled Mr. Huntsworth. "Your father will +understand what I mean. See, there is your steamer, child. I will see you +aboard and then I must say good-bye." + +The steamer which had been a passenger packet plying her trade between +St. Louis and New Orleans before the war had been converted into a +transport for carrying men and supplies for the government. As Mr. +Huntsworth and Jeanne ascended the gangplank they were met by the Captain. + +"Is this the young lady who is to be our guest down the river?" he asked +in such a hearty way that Jeanne's heart warmed to him immediately. +"General Wallace advised me that I was to expect one." + +"This is the girl, Captain," replied Mr. Huntsworth. "And I hope for your +sake that you and your crew are thoroughly Union, otherwise it would be +better for you to meet with a rebel ram. I don't believe that the Johnnies +could make it any warmer for you than she could." + +"This is just the place for her then," declared the Captain smilingly. +"We are Union to the core, Miss Vance. I believe that is your name." + +"Yes, sir; my name is Jeanne Vance, but please do not call me 'Miss +Vance.' It makes me feel so strange." + +"All right, my little girl. I will do as you say. I am glad that you have +no grown-up notions about you. I foresee that we shall get along famously. +This is the way to the cabin, and that room is where you will bunk. It +is next to mine. You can call on me or Tennessee for anything you need." + +"Tennessee!" ejaculated Jeanne with a puzzled look. + +"Yes; our cook. We call her Tenny for short, and she is about the jolliest +old darky that ever trod a deck. A good motherly woman with a white soul +if she is black. Now make yourself comfortable. I will send Tenny to you +to help you. I have some things to attend to on deck." + +"Isn't he kind?" exclaimed Jeanne. "How good people are to girls traveling +alone!" + +"It is because they are Americans," said Mr. Huntsworth. "You should +be proud of such a country. I am glad that you have fallen into such +pleasant hands. I will tell your father if I see him before you do. Will +you stay in New Orleans long?" + +"I don't know. I will have to hear from my father about that. But how easy +it has been to get there!" + +"The most difficult part is to come," said the old gentleman gravely. +"Once the Vicksburg batteries are passed you will be safe. I do not think +that this boat will try to make the run. She is hardly in fighting shape. +Of course you will be transferred to a gun boat. Well, well, I hope that +you will get through all right and that we will soon meet again. Good-bye, +little girl." + +"Good-bye, sir," and Jeanne shook hands with him cordially. "Thank you so +much for all your kindness. I hope that I will see you again. Good-bye." + +Another hand shake and the old gentleman left the cabin slowly, and went +on shore. + +"Done you feel bad, honey," and a fat negress came up to her as she sat +down on the side of her berth feeling rather forlorn. "Wus dat yer par?" + +"No," and Jeanne looked up quickly with a smile. "Are you Tennessee? I am +glad to see you. The Captain told me about you." + +"Yes; I'se Tennessee, honey, but lawsie! Dey doesn't call me nuffin but +Tenny. But ef yer want ter see the las' ob de ole gem'muns jest foller +yer aunty ter de deck." + +Jeanne followed the negress, and stood on the deck watching the +preparations for departure. Mr. Huntsworth saw her and waved his +hand. Jeanne waved hers in response, and as the transport backed out into +the river and steamed southward, she gazed at him until his figure grew +to be a tiny speck and then disappeared in the distance. + +"Now, missy, I'se got ter ten' ter de dinner, but you can kum wid me ef +yer likes, elsen you can stay hyar and watch de ribber. Most folks likes +ter do dat. I 'spect mebbe dats de best thing fer yer." + +"Well, then I will stay, Mrs. Tenny," smiled Jeanne. + +"Mrs. Tenny! Huh! Who is yer talkin' to, honey? I'se jest Tenny or aunty +jest as yer likes. But done go ter puttin' no missis on to it. White folks +done do dat down hyar." + +"Then I will call you Tenny," said Jeanne, recoiling just a little from +calling the woman aunty. "But it doesn't seem right not to say Mrs." + +"Yes, missy, it's all right. Now I'll get up a good dinner. 'Specks you +is powerful hungry, ain't yer? Ole Tenny gwine ter do her bes' fer de +little missy," and the good creature hurried below. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE EXAMPLE OF A GIRL + + +Slowly the transport, which was called The Gem, steamed down the river +and Jeanne stayed on deck long hours to watch the scenery, which was +new and strange to her. The river was full of devious windings and the +girl was amazed at its great bends and loops, and sometimes it seemed to +her that the turns must bring them back to Memphis. The eastern shore +bounded by the lofty plains of Tennessee and Mississippi terminating +at times in precipitous bluffs afforded a great contrast to the flat +lands of the western bank. The dense forests of cottonwood, sweet gum, +magnolia, sycamore and tulip trees festooned with long gray streamers of +moss were interspersed with cypress swamps and a network of bayous. + +"Whar you bin dat you ain't nebber seed no 'nolias befo'?" queried +Tennessee as she listened to Jeanne's expressions of admiration as a +particularly handsome clump of magnolias came into view on the western +bank. The channel of the river at this point ran so close to the shore +that the perfume of the creamy blossoms was very perceptible. + +"I've always lived in New York City," replied Jeanne. "I saw some magnolia +trees once in Maryland, but I never saw them in blossom. Aren't they +beautiful?" + +"Yes, honey. Dey is purty fer a fac'," replied the negress. "I allers +laked de 'nolias myself, and dat wuz de reason dat I named my darter so, +but we called her Snowball fer short." + +"You did?" laughed Jeanne. "Why, Tenny, Snowball isn't any shorter than +Magnolia. Why didn't you call her 'Nolia,' if you wished to shorten the +name?" + +"My ole marster, he done it," was the reply. "Ole marster say, 'Tenny, dat +li'l pickaninny too white ter be named anything so yaller as a magnolia. +Better call her Snowball.' Ole marster allers would hab his joke, and +dat gal of mine wuz jist as brack as de nex' one. I didn't want my chile +called Snowball. It wuzn't stylish nohow, but would you b'lebe me, chile? +De fust thing I knowed, white and culled wuz a callin' her Snowball, an' +den I did, too." + +"Where is she now, Tenny? I should think you would want her with you on +these trips." + +"Chile, chile, dat's de thing dat tears dis hyar old heart ob mine," +said the woman, her eyes filling with tears. "Ole marster say she was a +'likely gal' an' she wuz, ef she wuz mine. Dey made much ob her and would +hab her roun' dem all de time. Seem laik nobody could do for 'em laik +Snowball. Den ole marster tuk sick and died an' ole missus she say she hab +ter sell us all, kase she didn't hab no money any mo'. An' Massa Cap'n he +bought me but 'nother man bought Snowball an' tuk her down to Loosyanny." + +"Why, that is awful!" cried Jeanne, her eyes overflowing, her heart full +of sympathy for the darky. She had often heard tales of this kind but this +was the first time that this phase of slavery had been brought home to +her. A child torn from its mother appealed to her, so many miles from +her own dear mother, as nothing else could have done. "Why didn't Captain +Leathers buy her too?" she asked. "He seems like a kind man." + +"He is, honey. 'Deed he is," replied Tenny wiping her eyes, "an' he did +try, but the yudder man had bought her fust an' he wouldn't gib her up. +I can't blame him fer she wuz a likely gal. Lawsie, chile, dat gal wuz +smarter'n a whip!" + +"How long has she been gone, Tenny?" + +"'Twas befo' de wah broke out. Massa Cap'n he wanted a good cook, an' I +sutinly am dat, so he tuk me. He say dat I'se ter hab my freedum too, but +shucks! what's freedum ter me? I'd rudder hab my gal dan all de freedum in +de world." + +"Yes; I suppose so," said Jeanne dreamily. "Still, Tenny, if you had your +freedom you could go to look for Snowball." + +"Now, missy, what could Tenny do? A pore ole nigger can't do nuffin nohow. +S'pose I did fin' her, what's I gwine ter do 'bout it? I couldn't buy +her. 'Sides, ef dey cot an ole 'ooman a foolin' roun' dat didn't seem +ter 'long ter nobody dey lock me up, suah. Mebbe dey'd whip me. An', +chile, once you had de whip ter yer back you doesn't want it no mo'. No; +I'se gwine ter stay right with Massa Cap'n. He's a good marster, an' +he'll take good keer ob Tenny." + +Jeanne sat silently thinking over what she had heard. Her heart ached +for the helpless mother and she chafed at her inability to aid her. The +darkness of the great slavery evil fell upon her spirit. Was this the +land of the free and the home of the brave? she mused. How could she ever +sing "The Star Spangled Banner" again so long as it waved over a country +a portion of whose inhabitants groaned under a yoke of bondage! + +"'Spect I ortern't ter hab tole yer dis, chile," said Tenny, becoming +alarmed at her silence. "A nigga's trubbles nuffin nohow. Done you bodder +yer purty haid ober it. I'se sorry I tole yer." + +"I am glad, Tenny, but I do feel so sorry for you. I wish I could help +you. If I knew where the man was that bought your child I'd buy her back +and give her to you. Then if Captain Leathers would set you free you could +both go North and nobody could ever separate you again." + +"Bress yer good haht, honey!" exclaimed Tenny, clapping her hands. "I wish +I knowed his name. He wus an horsifer. I heerd dem call him Kuhnel." + +"And don't you remember his name?" + +"No, missy; I doesn't. Nebber heerd him called nuffin but Kuhnel nohow. +Wait a minnit! Chile, chile, 'pears ter me I did hyar it. Lemme think. My +ole haid no 'count no mo'." She placed her hands to her head and looked +with troubled eyes at Jeanne. "Why can't I 'member? 'Twuzn't Massa Benson? +No; 'twuzn't. Think, nigga! Why done yer 'zert yersef? Nebber did hab no +sense nohow." + +Thus she rambled on, muttering to herself until presently she sprang to +her feet exclaiming: + +"I'se got it, missy. 'Twuz Kuhnel Peyton. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! I 'members +it now 'zactly. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! Dat's it. Dat's it." + +"Colonel Peyton!" said Jeanne. "I'll remember that name, Tenny. How much +do you suppose the Colonel would want for her?" + +"'Bout a tousand dollahs, I reckon," answered Tenny. + +"A thousand dollars," echoed Jeanne in dismay. "Oh, Tenny, I haven't near +that much. I didn't suppose that it would be so much as that." + +"Niggas wuth heaps ob money," said Tenny proudly. "My gal wuz smaht, I +tell yer. Dat's why she brung so much. Can't you buy her, missy? Tenny'll +lub yer all yer life ef yer will." + +"I'll write to my father," decided Jeanne. "I'll get him to buy her for +me. He will know just what to do, and you shall have your child again, +Tenny, I'll promise you that." + +"Ef yer'll jest do that, missy, ole Tenny'll do anything in de wohld fer +yer," sobbing in her eagerness. "To think ob habin' my babby ergain. She +wuz my babby, missy. I had ten befo' her but 'peared laik none ob dem +tuk sich a hole on ma haht de way she did. Ef I kin hab her ergain I'll +brack yer shoes, an' scrub yer floors er do anything all de res' ob ma +life. Yer won't need ter lift yer purty white han's ter do er a lick er +wuk nebber no mo'." + +"I'll do it if it is possible," said Jeanne. "It may take some time to +find the Colonel, Tenny. You know that the war has disturbed everything +so, but my father will know just what to do. If anybody can find him I +know that he can. Just hope and pray that it will all come right yet." + +"I'll do dat, honey. I'se been prayin' fer dis long time, but I didn't do +no hopin' kase it didn't seem no use. But bress yer! De Lohd seems 'bout +ter lead me outen de valley ob de shadder. Massa Cap'n say sumtime we all +be free, but dat's too much ter hope fer." + +"No; it isn't, Tenny. The people up North are talking about it all the +time and working for it. I should not be surprised if it were to happen +any time." + +"Glory!" shouted the old woman rapturously. "Den dere wouldn't be no mo' +whippin's, ner chilluns sold frum der mammies, ner hidin's in de swamp +wid de dogs arter yer, ner put in jail ef yer does run away. Oh, chile, +it'll be de bressed day ef it do happen! But it can't be true." + +"Hope for it, Tenny. That is what we are doing, but it grows late and I +believe that I am tired. Would you mind going with me to the cabin while I +go to bed? Someway I feel lonesome to-night." + +"'Course yer lonesum. Way offen yer folks laik dis. Suttinly I'll go an' +only too glad. Ole Tenny'll put yer ter bed laik she wuz yer own mammy." +She bustled about the girl when they reached the latter's stateroom and +soon had Jeanne snugly in bed. "Dis hyar winda'll gib yer air," she said +opening it. "Yer needn't be afeerd kase it opens on de ribba, and nobody +can't git in. Now shet dem eyes ob yourn, and go ter sleep." + +She sat by the girl's side and began crooning weirdly. The wild barbaric +melody rising and falling in a sort of rhythm with the motion of the boat. +Jeanne listened fascinated by the music and presently her eyes became +heavy and soon she was fast asleep. + +On and on down the tortuous curves of the river The Gem wended her way +until at last she came in sight of the flotilla under the command of +Commodore Davis. A shout went up from the fleet as the men caught sight +of the transport, and there was a scramble for her sides as she hove +to alongside of the flagship of the Commodore. + +Jeanne kept herself in readiness to be transferred to one of the gunboats, +for Captain Leathers had told her that he did not expect to go farther. +Soon he returned from a visit to the flagship. + +"Commodore Davis says that it will not be advisable for you to come aboard +any one of his ships as there are many cases of fever among the men," he +said, coming at once to the waiting girl. "Both Commodore Farragut's force +and his own are down with it. They intend withdrawing from the assault on +Vicksburg as they have received orders to that effect from Washington. +Therefore Davis will retire to Helena and Farragut to New Orleans until +they can have the coöperation of the army." + +"But----" began Jeanne. + +"You see the thing is to get you to Farragut," interrupted the Captain. +"Davis and I have decided that some of these supplies ought to be carried +to the Commodore directly. He knows his need; so that I am going to him +with the transport. Davis will send a gunboat with me for protection. It +is fair to tell you that there will be great danger. The ram Arkansas is +anchored just below the city and will do all she can to injure us. Now +the question is, what will you do? The best thing to my way of thinking +would be for you to stay right here with old Tenny either on one of the +gunboats, fever stricken though they be, or to land somewhere until my +return." + +"There is no question at all about it," said Jeanne decidedly. "I will +go with you." + +"But you understand that there is danger, child? Great danger! We may all +of us be killed." + +"Yes; I know," replied Jeanne quietly, "but I started for New Orleans, +Captain, and I am going if I can get there." + +"Then there is nothing more to be said," and the Captain heaved a sigh. +"I will not attempt to combat your decision, child, but I wish you would +not go. However I must see the men now, and place the matter before them. +You may go with me if you like." + +Jeanne followed him and stood by his side as he called all hands aft. + +"My men," said the captain in clear tones, "I have called you together +to put a plain statement of facts before you. You know that we were sent +here with supplies for the two fleets of Commodores Farragut and Davis. +Both squadrons have many cases of fever which has seriously depleted +their strength. Farragut needs the drugs that we have immediately. Of +course he can get supplies by the outside route, but that takes too +long. The poor fellows are in urgent want of what we have. Now, men, +it was not the intention to go farther when we started than Davis's +flotilla, but my heart bleeds for those suffering sailors. I want to run +by Vicksburg to-night in the darkness. I will not disguise the danger. +The ram Arkansas lies at anchor under the city as a further menace +besides the batteries. I want no man to accompany the expedition who does +not go willingly. All who wish to remain with the fleet may do so without +the least stigma of cowardice attaching to them. Who will go with me?" + +There was dead silence. Jeanne looked with surprise at the grave faces +before her. She had thought that men were always ready to lay down their +lives in a good cause. She had not dreamed that any one would hesitate for +a moment. Her amazed look gave place to one of scorn as the time passed +and no one spoke. Stepping close to the Captain's side she slipped her +little hand into his and said clearly: + +"I will go with you, Captain." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THROUGH SHOT AND SHELL + + +A ringing cheer went up from the men and they stepped forward with one +accord. + +"I'll go with you, Captain," cried one. "With you and the little girl to +the death." + +"Ay! to the death," shouted the others in chorus. + +The Captain smiled down into Jeanne's face. + +"You see what you have done," he said. "They did not care to follow me, +but will go anywhere with you. I believe that we shall have to turn over +the boat to your charge." + +"I think they would have gone," said Jeanne, rather abashed at so much +notice. "Perhaps they were just thinking it over." + +"True for you, my beauty," cried the first mate. "That's what we were +doing, Captain. We'd a gone all right." + +"Now, men," said the Captain seriously, still retaining Jeanne's hand, +"you fully realize what you are doing, do you? Think well, because there +can be no backing out when we have started. Any one who does not wish +to join us may go forward. We have no means of fighting and must take +whatever the 'rebs' choose to give us. You see that I am not mincing +matters with you, boys. Move forward any of you who do not wish to go." + +He paused and waited for a few moments, but not a man stirred from his +place. + +"Then listen," he went on briskly. "We'll finish giving the Commodore +his supplies, and then barricade the boat with bales of cotton. Under +the protection of one of Davis's gunboats we will try to run the batteries +under cover of the darkness. Now fall to, my hearties. There is much to +be done." + +There was another cheer and the men sprang to their tasks. The Captain +looked down at the girl by his side. Jeanne's eyes were like stars, and +her cheeks were red as roses. The blood of her Revolutionary ancestors was +up and she showed no sign of fear. + +"What will your father say if I do not bring you safely through this?" +asked the Captain. + +"It is a risk that we must run," said Jeanne. "There is no more danger +for me than for you and the men." + +"True, child; yet we are men, and you are only a girl. I don't know just +where you ought to stay through this affair. One part of the boat will +be just as safe as another." + +"Don't mind me, Captain. You will have your duties to attend to, and I +will not bother if I am 'only a girl.'" + +"Ah! that touched you, did it?" laughed the Captain. "But I do mind you, +child. I don't half like this idea of your going. You are sure that you +won't stay here?" + +"Sure, Captain. Indeed, I must get to New Orleans, and there is no other +way, is there?" + +"No; to try to make it by land on either side the river would be through +the enemy's country with every chance in favor of capture. This is a +desperate risk but sometimes desperate chances stand the best show of +success. Once past Vicksburg and the rest is easy." + +"Then please don't say anything more about my staying," pleaded Jeanne. "I +will try not to be the least bit in the way." + +And so it came about that the transport made ready to run the batteries +of Vicksburg with Jeanne on board. The girl watched the men as they +worked, and waited impatiently for the time to come for them to start. At +last night fell. There was no moon, and a little before midnight a gunboat +drifted out of Miliken's Bend where the fleet lay, and, showing no light +from its chimney, moved like some great bird down the noiseless current, +while the transport, hugging the western shore under the cover of the +friendly darkness, followed close in the rear. + +No sound could be heard from the heights of Vicksburg, nor could any +lights be seen. The city lay in the brooding darkness as calmly quiet +as though no dread batteries lay at her feet waiting but the word of +command to belch forth their terrible fire. An hour passed, and Jeanne, +sitting in the darkness of the cabin listening with strained ears to +catch the least sound, began to believe that they would get safely past +the city undiscovered. + +Suddenly there came a flash followed by a crash that shook the shores. +Lights danced along the heights. Thunder answered thunder and the +roar of batteries from land and water rent the air. Presently a blaze +flickered, flashed and then sprang up in a great sheet of flame upon the +heights throwing the gunboat and the transport into a strong light, +and turning the gloom of the black midnight into the brilliancy of day. +The Confederates had fired a mass of combustibles with which to spy +out the whereabouts of their enemies. + +With the first burst of the artillery Jeanne ran up on deck. + +"Back to the cabin, girl," shouted the Captain hoarsely. "This is no place +for you." + +But as Jeanne turned to obey him a shot tore through the cabin and fell +hissing into the water beyond. The girl paused. Captain Leathers caught +her arm and drew her behind a bale of cotton. + +"Stay there!" he panted. "You will be as safe as anywhere." + +At this moment a terrible shape loomed out of the darkness making straight +for the gunboat. A shout went up from the crews of the gunboat and the +transport as the rebel ram Arkansas was recognized. Determined to make a +grand effort to escape, Captain Leathers ordered all steam to be crowded +on, thinking to run down the river while the gunboat engaged the ram. + +The Gem responded nobly to the appeal and her prow cut the waters until +they rolled from her in one mass of foam. But the Captain's design was +penetrated instantly by the enemy, and shot and shell sizzed through the +air like hail. It seemed miraculous that the transport escaped being +riddled. + +Meantime the gunboat saw that the ram designed to run her down, and +swinging round, welcomed the visitor with a full broadside. As the sound +of the guns and their tremendous reverberations ran along the shore, the +answer came in a terrific onslaught from the batteries above. Pandemonium +seemed to have broken loose. Shot and shell whistled and sang through +the air carrying death and desolation in their wake. Shouts and cries +added to the confusion of the moment. + +The ram, foiled in her first attempt to run down the Yankee, withdrew a +short distance and turned again upon the boat. This time she got her sharp +bow full in upon the heavy iron sides of the gunboat but her headway was +not sufficient to cause any very serious damage. Before she could get +away the Captain of the Yankee vessel rushed upon the hurricane deck and +seizing a pistol shot the rebel pilot dead. The rebel crew retaliated +by shooting him down. In the meantime the ram prepared for another blow, +withdrawing for a terrific onslaught. + +Just at this moment a shell struck the magazine of the plucky gunboat. +There was an instantaneous explosion and the boat was blown to atoms, her +gallant crew perishing with her. + +"We are doomed," groaned Captain Leathers. "Nothing can save us now. Are +you ready to die, little girl?" + +"Ready, Captain," came from Jeanne's pale lips, and she arose from her +place behind the cotton. "But I want to die standing. I wish we could +shoot, Captain." + +"So do I. But we are at their mercy. It would be a relief to do something, +but to die without a chance for a shot. Ah!" + +The exclamation was caused by the fact that the light of the bonfires +was dying down, and the transport was nearing the turn of the lower bend. +The shadows grew deeper and longer, and soon only a pale flickering +flame remained of the brilliant light of a short time before. Then the +blackness of night settled once more upon the river and a cheer broke +from the crew as the transport rounded the lower bend of the great loop +upon which Vicksburg stood, and passed out from under the batteries of +the modern Gibraltar. + +"Will that terrible vessel come after us?" asked Jeanne hardly realizing +that the danger was over. + +"No, child. We are safe. The ram knows that Farragut is somewhere near +here, and she will not venture out to-night. We are safe; thank God!" + +"Thank God!" echoed the girl faintly. "Safe! Oh, Captain, Captain!" and +she burst into a passion of weeping. + +"Why, my little heroine, what does this mean?" cried Captain Leathers +dismayed. "You were cool enough through that fire of grape and canister. +'Ready to die,' you said; 'just so that you could die standing.' It was +enough to frighten the bravest man, yet you were not afraid. And now you +break down?" + +"Leab her ter me, massa," said old Tenny coming up on deck. "Jest you +leab dat chile ter ole Tenny. Ef dis night ain't been enuff ter make an +angel weep den I dunno nuffin. Lawsie, massa! I'se been suah dat I wuz +daid fer de las' hour. Fiah an' brimstone nebber scare me no mo'. De bad +man ain't got no wuss ter gib dan dis has been, an' I knows it. Come, +chile! Come, honey! Ole Tenny'll put yer ter bed now." + +"Yes; that is the best place for her," said the Captain as the girl +continued to sob uncontrollably. "I'll carry her down, Tenny, and you +see to her." + +He lifted Jeanne up bodily in his arms, and bore her into the cabin +picking his way carefully through the débris scattered about. + +"I--I can't help but cry," sobbed Jeanne with an effort at self-control. + +"It's all right, my little girl. Cry all you want to. You are nervous +and overwrought. I feel as if I'd like to do the same if I wasn't a man. +Sleep well because you are safe now, and you won't have any more of this +to go through. Good-night." + +"Good-night," murmured Jeanne and presently she grew calm under Tenny's +soothing ministrations. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JEANNE MEETS THE HERO OF NEW ORLEANS + + +It was late before Jeanne awoke the next morning. The sun was shining +brightly and she lay idly watching the dancing of the sunbeams upon the +wall scarcely realizing where she was. Presently it all came back to her, +and a convulsive shudder shook her frame as she seemed to hear again the +whistle of shot and shell, the cries of the wounded and the shrieks of +the unhappy crew of the gunboat as it blew to atoms. + +"How can the sun shine after all that has happened?" asked the girl with +that wonder that comes to all of us when, after some great calamity, +nature presents the same undisturbed aspect. "Oh, how can I ever laugh +again!" + +"Is you 'wake, honey?" queried old Tenny peering in at the door. "Massa +Cap'n say when it's 'venient fer yer he laik ter hab yer kum ter see +'Miral Farragut." + +"What! have we reached Commodore Farragut? He said 'Commodore' didn't he, +Tenny?" inquired Jeanne, who did not know that Farragut had been recently +made a rear admiral. + +"No, honey; he said 'Miral, I'se suah," returned the negress. + +Jeanne dressed quickly and then hastened to Captain Leathers. + +"How are you this morning, Jeanne?" was the Captain's salutation. "Pretty +thankful to be on earth, aren't you? Admiral," turning to a slight, modest +looking middle aged man with gray hair, "this is the girl I was telling +you about. She stood fire last night like a veteran." + +"You have shown yourself to be a true heroine," said Admiral Farragut +taking her hand. "It is not often that we meet such courage in one so +young." + +"I never heard that you were deficient in this quality," said the Captain. +"Seems to me that I've heard of a number of your exploits when you were a +lad." + +"I was a boy, Captain. One expects such things from a lad but a tender, +delicate little girl,"--and he smiled such a winning smile at Jeanne that +she involuntarily drew closer to him,--"that is decidedly different. Boys +take to such things naturally unless they are molly coddles. Were you not +afraid, little girl?" + +"Not until it was over," answered Jeanne shyly. "But it was a dreadful +time. I can't help thinking of those poor men on the gunboat----" Her +voice faltered and her eyes filled with tears. + +"Yes, child." The Admiral pressed her hand warmly. "That is the worst part +of it. To lose such gallant fellows is one of the hard things of war. And +yet--there is no nobler death than to fall in defense of one's country. +But the Captain tells me that you have a message for me." + +"Yes, sir. I have a letter from my father to Commodore Porter, and General +Wallace added a few lines for you. I will get it." + +She ran to her stateroom and soon returned with the letter. "It is for any +one on our side to read," she said, as Farragut hesitated slightly. + +"In that case," smiled the Admiral. "I will read it. So, my little one, +it is very necessary for you to get to New Orleans? You are young to be +sent on business for the government. Tell me what led you to undertake +such a thing." + +"Because I love my country and wished to do something for her," replied +Jeanne so fervently that Farragut's face kindled in response. + +"Well said," he exclaimed enthusiastically. "That's the stuff I wish that +all Americans were made of. But have you no mother?" + +"I have a dear mother," answered Jeanne quickly. "She was quite willing +for me to come as it was necessary. She made me this flag," drawing it +from her bosom, "and told me that not even for life itself must I betray +it. I have kissed it every night," continued the girl caressing its folds +fondly, "and I keep it right over my heart that no traitorous thought +may enter there." + +"My dear child," a tear glistened in the Admiral's eye, "you are a brave +girl and have a noble mother. So long as America can produce such women +there will be no fear for the Union. You shall get to New Orleans as +quickly as possible. If it were needful I would clear a passage with +my guns. But that will not be necessary. You will soon see the end of +your journey. Would that all messengers were as brave as you have shown +yourself." + +"Perhaps they would be if they could meet with such treatment as I have, +sir. Some of them are very bold and daring, and run fearful risks. I have +heard my father tell of their narrow escapes. And some of them," and her +eyes grew sorrowful, "never get back. I have done nothing compared with +what many of them have done." + +"It is a great deal," said Farragut kindly. "More than most girls could +do." + +And so petted and made much of by officers and men the girl made the +rest of her journey down the river without incident. The entire fleet of +Farragut was brought to New Orleans because the Admiral realized the +futility of taking Vicksburg without troops to hold it. General Butler +at New Orleans had none to send him, and Halleck dawdled at Corinth most +inexplicably. Many of the men were prostrated by fever and rest was a +necessity. + +Into the crescent shaped harbor upon which the city stood the fleet came +to anchor, and Jeanne, full of anticipation at the thought of seeing her +uncle and the successful termination of her mission, stood ready to go +ashore. Captain Leathers came to her side. + +"You are to go with Admiral Farragut," he said. "He will take you to +General Butler who will know just where to find your uncle." + +"Thank you," said Jeanne gratefully. "How kind you have been to me, +Captain Leathers. I will never forget you." + +"And I will never forget you," said the Captain heartily. "When people +brave death together it always makes them feel a sort of kinship, don't +you think? And at any time you want to go back I'll carry you if I am +here." + +"Thank you," said the girl again. They shook hands and the Captain started +to lead her ashore when Tenny ran after them. + +"Shorely you ain't gwine ter leab without tellin' ole Tenny good-bye, is +yer?" she panted. + +"No, no, Tenny. I hope to see you soon again," said Jeanne warmly for she +had conceived a real regard for the faithful creature. "And I won't forget +about Snowball." + +"Bress yer haht, I knows yer won't. Ole Tenny nebber cease ter gib thanks +dat she hab met yer. Good-bye, honey." + +"Good-bye," said Jeanne again and then she followed the Captain down the +cotton platform, which was raised above the levee for the convenient +loading of cotton, to the levee itself, and along the banks to DeLord +Street where they were joined by Admiral Farragut. Jeanne bade the Captain +adieu and then walked slowly by the Admiral's side through the busy +streets en route for the St. Charles Hotel where General Butler had +his headquarters. The city had recovered something of its former activity, +and wore its accustomed garb of careless gaiety and business bustle. + +The markets were bright once more with red bandannas and noisy with the +many-tongued chatter of the hucksters: Creole, Spanish, French, German +and English. A perfect babel of tongues, and louder, more obstreperous +and broader mouthed than all others rose the gleeful negro laughter. + +The day was warm and bright, and the mulatto women with baskets of cakes, +figs, pomegranates, bananas, crape myrtles and oleanders, filled the +air with their musical negro cries as they vended their wares. Nurses +with children wearing Madras kerchiefs of bright colors, wrinkled negro +mammies, Creoles with French or Spanish descent plainly delineated upon +their features and soldiers, clad in the United States uniform, thronged +the banquettes and streets. + +Jeanne looked about her with curiosity, for the quaint old city presented +a thoroughly different aspect to the cities of the North. Many of the +people were of sullen countenance, some of them taking no pains to +conceal their dislike to their conquerors. The stars and stripes hung +everywhere. Hundreds of flags hung over the banquettes and in some +places ropes of them were stretched across the streets. To her amazement +Jeanne saw a well dressed woman go out into the street to avoid walking +under a flag which hung over the banquette. A soldier seized her +unceremoniously and forced her to pass under the emblem. With freezing +hauteur the woman raised her parasol and interposed its shelter between +her and the offending flag. + +"Verily, Butler hath his hands full," quoth the Admiral, and then he +added: "You wished to find your uncle, did you not?" + +"Yes, sir," replied Jeanne, trying to overcome her astonishment at what +she saw. "And yet I don't know whether I should find him first or not." + +"Why?" asked the Admiral in surprise. + +"You know, sir, that I came down here on business," and as he nodded +assent she continued. "My father sent some papers to be given to a man +here in the service of the government. I have always said that I was +going to Uncle Ben, but he is not the man. Father told me not to mention +the name until I reached New Orleans and then only to some one I could +trust. The man's name is John Archer. Now do you think I should go to +him or to Uncle Ben first? I suppose Uncle Ben would help me find him." + +"I should find the man, child. In every case when performing a duty finish +that first before doing anything else. You have shown great prudence in +not mentioning the name before. General Butler will of course know this +Archer, and will see that you see him. Then I know that he will gladly +find your uncle for you." + +"I will do just as you say for you know best. How glad father will be when +he learns how you have helped me." + +"Ought you not to send him some word?" + +"I will just as soon as I can say that I have delivered the papers to Mr. +Archer. He will be so pleased. Then I will visit Uncle Ben until father +says for me to come home. Isn't it queer, Admiral, I have never seen my +uncle?" + +"You have not? But you have heard from him?" + +"No, sir; he came South years ago. Long before I was born, but my father +always thought so much of him that I will be glad to see him." + +"In that case the very wisest thing to do is to find John Archer," said +Farragut emphatically. "This is the St. Charles, child." + +They paused before the famous structure. A broad piazza supported by +pillars overarched with stone ran along the front, making an imposing +entrance. The building was a handsome one, and famed at one time as the +finest hotel in the States. + +Admiral Farragut and his charge were soon admitted to General Butler's +presence. The General had chosen the ladies' parlor as his official +headquarters. The room was filled with orderlies and sergeants each intent +upon the performance of some duty. In the midst of them sat General +Butler. He received his visitors courteously. His name familiar to every +American, spoken of by some in terms of highest praise, and by others +with opprobrium, made Jeanne shrink a little closer to Farragut's side +as the General greeted them. He was of imposing presence. Not tall, but of +well-developed form and fine massive head; not graceful in movement but +of firm solid aspect; self-possessed and slow of speech. + +"This is a great pleasure, Admiral," he exclaimed with heartiness. +"Welcome back to New Orleans." + +"Thank you, General," returned Farragut. "I should be glad to be here +could I feel that I have not left unfinished my work behind me." + +"Vicksburg then is still untaken?" + +"I regret to answer, yes. But you are making progress here. You have begun +a good work. I notice that the streets are being cleaned." + +"The condition of things demanded it," returned Butler. "The quality of +the climate is pernicious and wasting enough without having to brave the +terror of yellow fever. It has been in self-defense." + +"It takes a strong hand to rule the city, does it not?" + +"A strong hand? Yes. I am subjected to all sorts of abuse for my tyranny, +as they call it; but this one measure the strongest rebel among them must +approve. In time perhaps they will see the need of all. My administration +may be vigorous, but of one thing rest assured: So long as Benjamin F. +Butler stays in New Orleans the city shall acknowledge the absolute and +unquestioned supremacy of the United States." + +"There is no doubt but that she will with you at the helm," said the +Admiral. "General, do you know a man by the name of Archer?" + +"John Archer?" asked the General, giving a quick glance at him. "Well, +to any one else, Admiral, I should dissemble; but to you I will say, yes. +Why?" + +"This girl," pushing Jeanne forward, "has brought messages, papers, or +something of that nature for him from New York City: I thought that +perhaps you could arrange a meeting with him for her. After that she has +an uncle in the city whom she wishes to find." + +"This girl?" General Butler eyed Jeanne keenly. "Rather young for a +messenger, isn't she?" + +"In years, perhaps; but she ran the fire of the Vicksburg batteries in +order to reach here." + +"Indeed!" General Butler looked at her more closely. "Do you know John +Archer, child?" + +"No, sir." + +"Orderly, bring in the man Archer," commanded the General. + +A look of surprise passed over Farragut's face, but he made no remark. +Presently the orderly returned with a man. + +"Archer," said the General quietly, "this girl has brought some papers +for you." + +There was a startled expression on the man's face, and he looked at Jeanne +with something like apprehension. General Butler turned his attention to +Admiral Farragut, and Jeanne was left face to face with the man whom she +had come so far to see. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +AN UNFORESEEN RESULT + + +He was not an agreeable looking man and Jeanne felt an instinctive +distrust of him instantly. For a few moments she hesitated, and the +thought came to her that she would not give him the papers. But was it +not for this very thing that she had come to New Orleans? What would her +father say if she did not fulfil her trust? + +"You wished to see me?" said John Archer, and it seemed to Jeanne that +he was trying to make signs to her. + +"If you are Mr. John Archer?" and Jeanne looked at him steadily. "I came +from Mr. Richard Vance." + +"Vance? Richard Vance?" repeated the other as if the name conveyed nothing +of importance to his mind. "What Vance?" + +"Why Richard Vance of New York City," answered Jeanne in astonishment. +She had inferred from what her father had said that John Archer would be +well acquainted with the name. "He is my father, and he has sent me to you +with some papers. If you are Mr. John Archer?" + +"I am he," answered the man, "but I know nothing about any papers." + +"I thought that you would," murmured Jeanne. There seemed something +strange to her in the way the man was acting. "My mother sewed them into +my petticoat," she continued with a growing reluctance against parting +with them. "If there is any place where I could go I would get them. It +seemed the best way to carry them." + +"Orderly," interposed General Butler turning to them, "take the young lady +to Mrs. Butler. My wife will gladly assist you," he added to Jeanne. + +"Thank you," said Jeanne, gratefully hurrying after the Orderly. They soon +reached the apartments set aside for the use of General Butler's wife, and +she herself opened the door in answer to the Orderly's knock. + +"Come right in," she said cordially in response to Jeanne's rapid +explanation. "You are young to be sent on such an errand, my dear. But +the times are such that we cannot always choose our messengers. Very +often the young prove more reliable than older persons. You say that +they are in your petticoat, my child?" + +"Yes, ma'am," returned Jeanne. "You see it made my frock stand out like +crinoline and no one would think it was anything else." + +"And a good place it is too," replied the lady busy with her scissors. +"You have a thoughtful mother." + +"Mrs. Butler," said the little girl suddenly after she and the lady had +finished their task and the papers lay before them, "do you know John +Archer?" + +"No, child. Why?" + +"He is the man to whom my father sent these papers," said the girl +thoughtfully. "Someway I do not like him. I wish he were not the man." + +"My dear," reproved the lady gently, "we ought not to let our fancies +dominate us. If the man came to the General's rooms and was received +there, rest assured that he is all right. The General has means of knowing +whether a man is to be trusted or not." + +"True," replied Jeanne, and feeling that it would be ungracious to give +further expression to her distrust she went slowly back to the parlor. +Why should she, a mere child, presume to doubt a man whom the General and +even her own father trusted? "But I do wish," sighed she as she opened the +door of the apartment. "I do wish that he were not the man." + +"Here are the papers," she said, going straight to Mr. Archer. + +"Thank you." Archer took the papers mechanically and without another word +or look at her turned to the Orderly, and was conducted from the room. + +Jeanne stood looking after him somewhat dismayed. Was this all? Some way +she had thought, had expected it to be so different. Mr. Huntsworth, +Captain Leathers, even the great Farragut had seemed to consider that +she had done wonders in carrying the papers but this man thought nothing +of her action. Tears of disappointment welled to her eyes. + +"Never mind, child," said Farragut seeing her distress. "Some people are +so matter of fact that they suppose the whole world is of the same way of +thinking. Besides, the consciousness of a good action is its own reward." + +"Ye-es," said Jeanne, "I know that it ought to be. It says so in my +copy-book. But I thought that it would be so different." + +"It would be a fine thing if all our acts would receive approbation," +remarked General Butler. "Brass bands and calcium lights are things that +human nature craves for deeds well done, but they are seldom given. That +is, until one dies." + +"Don't be cynical, General," laughed Farragut. "The child will find it +out soon enough." + +"Yes; I suppose so," replied Butler. "Didn't you say something about an +uncle, Admiral?" + +"Yes; that is the next thing in order. She is to stay with him until her +father tells her to return. Her uncle is Benjamin Vance." + +"Whe-ew," whistled the General an expression of blank amazement on his +face. "Did you say Benjamin Vance?" + +"Certainly. Do you know him?" + +"I do," replied the General emphatically. "And this girl is his niece, +and she brings papers down here to Archer? It is about the boldest thing +I ever heard of!" + +"Why! What do you mean?" + +"I'll tell you presently. Come here, girl. Do you hear often from your +uncle?" he asked as Jeanne approached. + +"No, sir. Father has not heard from him in years. He came South long +before I was born, but I remembered that he lived here when I was getting +father to let me bring the papers." + +"Isn't it strange that you should have remembered it just at that time?" +questioned Butler sharply. + +"Why, no," answered the girl regarding him with wide open eyes. "I have +heard my father speak of Uncle Ben all my life, and when New Orleans was +mentioned I always thought of him. So I said that I was coming to see +Uncle Ben when I was truly bringing the papers to Mr. Archer. Father +thought it was best." + +"I see. What is in the papers?" + +"I don't know, sir." Jeanne looked at him so innocently that he was +compelled to believe her. + +"Well, you at least, are innocent, I do believe. Now, child, what else +did you bring? Anything for your uncle?" + +"I brought him some quinine," answered Jeanne half laughing. "Father had +it fixed for me in my lunch basket. He said if I should fall in with the +rebels and they questioned me too closely I was to own up about it. See! +here is the basket. The quinine is right down in this place." + +"I don't understand about the thing," said the General in a low tone to +the Admiral. "The girl is either the most innocent person in the world +and everything is exactly as she says, or she is a consummate actress, +young as she is." + +"General, what in the world do you mean?" queried Farragut. + +"I mean," said General Butler sternly, "that it looks very much to me as +if some mischief were afloat. John Archer is under arrest for disloyalty +to the government. Naturally this makes it bad for the girl." + +"Then," said Farragut gravely, "why did you permit him to have those +papers?" + +"He will not have them long. Did you not notice an Orderly go out after +him?" + +"I saw a man go out, but I thought nothing of it," was the response. + +"That man has his orders. Archer was relieved of the papers as soon as +he left the room. I wanted to get all the evidence against him that I +could hence I did not tell you about the matter at first. I thought that +he might recognize the girl or she him." + +"I believe that you are wrong," said Farragut earnestly. "I know nothing +of course about Archer, but I would stake my life that what the girl says +is true. It would be bold indeed to deliver documents serviceable to the +enemy under our very noses." + +"The very boldness of the scheme would make it successful. Besides, +the fellow's arrest is recent. His accomplices in the North cannot +possibly have heard of it as yet. He has been in the service of the Union +until suspected of furnishing information to the enemy. You can see why +the girl would deliver the papers before us. Another thing, her uncle, +Benjamin Vance, is one of the worst rebels in the city." + +"What!" cried Farragut. + +"Yes." + +"But she is too young to enter into any such scheme." + +"Ah! you do not know these people as I do. They are perfectly unscrupulous +as regards ways and means when it comes to carrying a point. Do you know +the girl's father? I judged not from what you told me of meeting with her." + +"No," admitted Farragut. "But she carried a letter to Commodore Porter +with a few lines from Wallace at Memphis to me. Really you must be +mistaken." + +"Letters can be forged," said Butler sententiously. "And sometimes +wheedled from officers, as we know to our sorrow. She may be but a tool of +persons who hope that her youth will protect her from the consequences. +You must confess that it looks bad. Ah, Johnson," as his Orderly made +his appearance, "did you get them?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Jeanne started forward with a cry of amazement as the Orderly laid upon +the table the very papers which she had given John Archer but a short time +before. + +General Butler spread them before him for inspection. + +"You can see for yourself that they contain important information," he +said to Farragut. "This thing would be all right if Archer were loyal; +otherwise it may show how it happens that the enemy obtains so much +information that it should not. The girl is certainly an emissary of +the Confederates." + +"A what?" cried Jeanne starting forward indignantly, for the General had +raised his voice and she had overheard the last words. "What did you say, +sir?" + +"I said," and the General turned to her abruptly and spoke sternly, "that +unless you can prove otherwise, that you are sent with these papers to +Archer for the rebels." + +"Why, my father sent me," cried the girl blankly. "He is in the employ +of the government and so is Mr. Archer." + +"Archer was until quite recently, but he is now under arrest on strong +suspicion of giving information to the enemy. You see everything is known, +child. Tell the truth. Who sent you here?" + +"My father," said Jeanne again, looking piteously from one to the other. +"Oh, what does he mean, Admiral? What does he mean?" + +"Child," Farragut took her hand kindly. "Tell me truly. What is your +father?" + +"He is in the employ of the government," reiterated Jeanne vehemently. "He +sends communications all over the states, because he told me so. He said +that telegraphs were not to be trusted, nor the mails either. For that +reason people were sent to the different cities with information about +the government." + +"That proves nothing," said the General, "unless it can be substantiated. +Why then do you want to visit your uncle--if you are loyal--when he is +such a rebel?" + +"A rebel?" cried Jeanne recoiling in horror. "Is my uncle a rebel?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CLEARED OF SUSPICION + + +The girl stared at them as if unable to believe the evidence of her senses. + +"A rebel!" she repeated wildly. "My uncle a rebel? It cannot be!" + +Her consternation was so apparent that General Butler almost believed in +her. Farragut's clouded face cleared instantly, and he turned to the other +quickly. + +"Whatever scheme is afoot that girl knows nothing of it," he said. "Why, +Butler, she carries a United States flag in her breast, and you should +hear her talk. I am sure that she is as loyal to the Union as either you +or I." + +"It may be, Admiral. One thing in her favor is the fact that you believe +in her. Let me see! How was it that you said she came from Vicksburg?" + +"Did I not tell you? She came with Captain Leathers from Memphis. The +transport, The Gem, joined us just below Vicksburg. He brought us +supplies, and there is absolutely no question with regard to his +sentiments. They have been proved over and over again." + +"Of course the girl may be all right and everything be just as she says," +said General Butler again. "As I say the thing in her favor is that she +came here to ask for Archer. I suppose it was because she knew no one. +Had she sought her uncle first----" + +"I advised her to come here," said Farragut in a low tone. "I told her +to find Archer first, and then to seek for her uncle, and she acquiesced +without hesitation." + +"I am afraid that she is deep. Of course the whole thing was concocted +in New York City. They could not know that Archer had been arrested, and +this information would have been sent to the Confederates as other plans +have been. I tremble to think of the consequences had these papers fallen +into their hands. Really, traitors are everywhere. I had hoped that the +government had gotten rid of them by this time." + +Meantime Jeanne was just recovering from the shock of learning that her +uncle was a rebel. She had not heard the conversation of the two officers, +and now she came to Admiral Farragut turning to him instinctively in her +distress. + +"What shall I do?" she asked. "I can't go to Uncle Ben if he is a rebel. +Oh, what will father say!" + +"I don't know, child. What shall be done, General? You command here." + +"The girl must go to her uncle," said the General decidedly. "There to +remain until I sift this thing to the bottom. Meantime she must take the +oath of allegiance to the United States." + +"The oath?" cried Jeanne. "Why should I take the oath, General Butler? I +thought that it was only for those whose loyalty to the Union was doubted." + +"That is it precisely," returned General Butler coldly. "If you are +sincere in your avowed devotion to your country, the oath won't hurt you. +If you are not then you will either perjure yourself or else be registered +as an open enemy to the United States." + +Jeanne was dumb with anguish. She, Jeanne Vance, an open enemy of the +United States! Of the country for which she was ready to give her life! +She gave one stricken glance at the austere man before her, and burst +into tears. + +"Come, come, General," said Farragut laying a kindly hand on the girl's +bowed head, "you are too severe, aren't you?" + +"Not at all. Every man, woman and child in this city must take this oath, +or be known as an enemy of the Union. It works no hardship if one is +loyal, and acts as a restraining power on those who are not. The authority +of the Union must be recognized while the city is under my charge." + +"Take the oath, child. That is, if you can do so conscientiously. But +whatever be the consequences accept them as a brave girl, and perjure +yourself for no man," advised Farragut. + +"I will," said Jeanne chokingly. "It isn't because of the oath that I +feel bad, Admiral. It is because my loyalty to the Union has been doubted. +Do you think that I would carry this," and she drew the flag from the +bosom of her dress, "if I were not for the Union? I kiss its folds each +night, and with it before me, I pray for the success of my country." She +kissed it passionately as she spoke. + +"That action speaks for itself," remarked General Butler with such a +change of tone that Jeanne looked up hastily. "No rebel woman or girl +that I have ever known would kiss that flag. I have hard work to make them +even walk under it. Forgive me, child, for doubting you, but treachery +lurks under so many different forms that I am forced to suspect even +children." + +"Suppose," suggested the Admiral, relieved that the General had come to +his way of thinking, "suppose you begin at the beginning and tell us all +about this business. How many have you in the family?" + +"Four," answered Jeanne promptly, a little comfort creeping into her +heart at the change in the General's manner. "Father who works for the +government, mother who is in the Monarch Relief Association, and Dick who +is in the army." + +"Your brother is in the Union army?" queried the General. + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is easily verified," said the General, making a note of the fact. +"Now how did you come to be sent down here?" + +Jeanne recounted the circumstances of the affair rapidly not even omitting +her mother's parting words of counsel. Both men listened with close +attention. + +"And you knew nothing whatever of your Uncle Ben?" asked Butler when she +had finished. + +"No, sir; father has not heard from him in many years. He will be grieved +to learn that he is a rebel," and her eyes filled with tears. + +"I have no doubt of it. Now, my little girl, I am going to send you to +your uncle until I can look up the truth of your story." + +"Couldn't you send me home?" asked the girl wistfully, a sudden yearning +possessing her for the refuge of her mother's arms. + +"I will soon. There are dangers by land and by sea, and, as your father +told you to wait until you heard from him, I think that it would be wise +to do so. It will be best for you to see for yourself what manner of man +your uncle is so that you can tell your father. Good-bye," and he held +out his hand. "Come in to see me sometimes while you are here." + +"Good-bye," said Jeanne, shaking hands with him as in duty bound. She gave +him a look of reproach and then turned to Farragut. + +"This has been a hard trial for you, child," said the Admiral. "You have +come through with colors flying though. I believe that you always will." + +"It has taught me," said the girl with quivering lips, "that there are +worse things than cannon balls and grape shot. I would rather face +Vicksburg a dozen times than to go through this again." + +"Don't take it too much to heart." Farragut patted her hand with great +gentleness. "It was a severe ordeal, but truth will always prevail. Just +think what it would have been had you really been guilty. Your conscience +at least was clear." + +"I did not like Mr. Archer," said Jeanne musingly, loth to leave this +friend. "I told Mrs. Butler so. I did not want to give him the papers." + +"Why didn't you say so?" cried the General. + +"Because you had received him here and I thought that of course he was all +right. It would have been presumption on my part to have spoken against +him when my father sent me to him, and I did not know anything against him +really. Besides, I did not dream that any one could doubt my loyalty." + +"You must forgive me," said the General humbly, seeing how deeply the girl +was hurt. "You don't know what I have to put up with or you would. When +you have been here a short time you will realize the situation better than +you do now. When you do, will you come to me and be friends?" + +"Yes;" and Jeanne smiled a little for the first time. + +"Good-bye," and the Admiral extended his hand as the girl prepared to +accompany the Orderly detailed by the General to conduct her to her +uncle's house. "I hope to see you again soon." + +"I hope so too," answered Jeanne. Then as she clasped his hand she cried +half hysterically. "Oh, Admiral, I am afraid to go. I am afraid!" + +"No, you're not, child. You are tired and nervous. Be brave. Meet your +uncle as if nothing had happened. I dare say that you will find him kind +and good." + +"But he is a rebel," sobbed Jeanne in such heartrending tones that both +men smiled involuntarily. + +"Well, some of them are very good men," said Farragut. "They are mistaken +in their views and need teaching a great many things, but otherwise they +are a warm-hearted people. I am from the South myself, you know." + +"Are you?" asked the girl surprised, yet she had wondered at his soft +Southern voice. + +"Yes; a Tennesseean. You seem to think that I am all right." + +"You are," replied Jeanne so heartily that Farragut laughed outright. "But +Uncle Ben didn't take New Orleans." + +"Perhaps you can get his services for us yet, and he may do something +better than to take New Orleans. That may be your work here." + +"I doubt it," spoke General Butler emphatically. "There is no rebel so +unregenerate as a renegade Yankee. There may be some excuse for those +born in this section of the country, but for a Yankee who embraces the +pernicious doctrine of secession there is none. The Orderly waits, my +child." + +Farewells were again exchanged, and Jeanne followed reluctantly after her +guide. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN UNEXPECTED GREETING + + +The Orderly called a cab and assisted Jeanne into it, putting her satchel +and basket beside her. Then springing in he gave the order and they were +off. + +Past Lafayette Square with its city hall, churches and Odd Fellows Hall +which were grouped round it with fine effect they went, and on into +that portion of the city that was known as the Faubourg Marigny whose +residences were built with more architectural generosity, broader spaces, +longer vistas, ampler gardens and with more sacrifices to the picturesque +than the part of the city through which they had just passed. + +At last the cab turned into the courtyard of a massive brick building. +It was a true Spanish building with broad doorways and windows, the +roof of which was a solid terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade. The +establishment had all the privacy of isolation and seclusion and was a +charming spot. The gardens were very large and spacious, and fragrant +with the blossoms from the magnolia groves. The avenue to the house was +shaded with orange trees that later would be redolent with perfume and +beautiful beyond description. Fruit trees were everywhere. Pomegranate, +peach, banana, fig, pear interspersed with rose trees and jasmine whose +odors ravished the senses. + +The cab swept in an extensive circle round the courtyard to the carriage +step before the broad doorway. A tall gentleman, elegantly appareled, +stood leaning in an easy attitude against one of the pillars of the broad +piazza smoking a cigar. He advanced to meet the arrivals as the Orderly +threw open the door of the cab and handed out the girl. + +"General Butler presents his compliments to Mr. and Madame Vance," he +said, with a deep bow, "and begs to introduce to them their niece, Miss +Vance of New York." + +"My niece!" exclaimed the gentleman giving Jeanne a look of astonishment. +"I have none unless my brother has a daughter. Are you Dick's child?" + +"Yes," replied Jeanne, her heart beating quickly. "You are Uncle Ben, +aren't you?" with a trace of wistfulness in her voice. + +"I am Benjamin Vance at least," was the answer. "Come in. I don't know +your name, but you are welcome if you are Dick's daughter." + +"I am Richard Vance's daughter," replied Jeanne with some dignity. + +"Then you are certainly my niece, though what in the world you are doing +here is more than I can see. Dick is well, is he? But come in. You shall +tell me all about it later." + +He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and without a glance or word +for the Orderly drew her up the brick stairs and through the hall, whose +stairway was beautiful enough for a palace with its elaborate, fantastic, +hand-wrought iron railing, and on to the door of a salon. A beautiful +woman swept graciously forward to meet them. She was very dark with +brilliant black eyes and silky hair of raven hue. Her manner was easy, +graceful and rather impassioned, and her features showed unmistakably her +French descent. + +"Clarisse," said the gentleman, "this is my niece who has honored us with +a visit. I think that I have told you of my brother, Richard. She is his +daughter and is from New York City." + +"Mais!" exclaimed the lady, with a laugh and speaking with a decidedly +French accent. "You surprise me! I knew not that you had a niece. Why did +you not tell me? It is one bad husband you are not to tell me of the dear +demoiselle. You are welcome, child. She resembles you, mon ami," taking +Jeanne's face between her hands and giving her a long look. "We shall be +great friends, my dear. Is it not so?" + +"Yes;" Jeanne's lips quivered and her eyes filled suddenly with tears +at this unexpected greeting. Her mission had ended so differently from +the way she had anticipated;--the doubt of her loyalty and the knowledge +that her uncle was a rebel had filled her heart with misgivings so that +this welcome was almost more than she could bear. But as this gleam of +sunshine comforted her, she steeled herself against its influence and +drew herself up bravely. + +"I must tell you something," she said, "before you welcome me too warmly. +I am for the Union." + +She did not dare to look at them as she spoke. Her thought was that +they must know her principles before going further. She was homesick +and longing for love and tenderness, but not for one moment would she +receive them under false pretenses. A glance flashed from husband to +wife and then a clear, silvery laugh rang out as the lady caught her +to her. + +"You dear little Yankee! you are too ridiculous for anything! Did you +think we would turn you out because you were not a rebel? Well, we are +rebels, my dear, but as we have to stand that odious, uncouth General +Butler of yours I think we won't mind a little thing like you. Come now, +and I will take you to your room and you shall rest. Then you shall tell +us why you have come all this way to see us at such a time." + +Jeanne returned her caresses with fervor, and abandoned herself to the +delight of being fondled and petted again as only children can do who have +been deprived of endearments after being accustomed to them. + +"They are nice people," she whispered as the lady left her in a cool quiet +room. "I wonder if it is wrong to like them? But it is father's brother, +and I ought to love them. Oh, I do wish they were not rebels! How can they +be traitors when they are so good!" + +After she had rested her uncle's wife came for her. + +"You are not weary now, are you?" she asked in her soft, caressing voice. +"You looked so fatigued, child. Tell me, what is your name?" + +"Jeanne." + +"Jeanne? Oh, you darling! That is French, isn't it? I did not know that +the Americans ever named their children so. Jeanne! It is delightful." + +"And you are Aunt Clarisse?" + +"Ma foi, Jeanne! Do not call me anything so prim. Call me 'Cherie.' Aunt +Clarisse indeed!" She laughed gaily. + +"Cherie! what does it mean?" asked the girl wonderingly, gazing at the +bright face above her with delight. "It should be something brilliant +and sweet to suit you, I think. Something like rich red roses heavy with +perfume and sweetness." + +"You little flatterer! And you call yourself a Yankee? No, no; Yankees +do not make speeches like that. You are French as your name is." + +"But I like to be a Yankee," cried Jeanne. + +"Be what you like, little one, so long as you are as sweet as you are. +But now let us go down to your uncle, after you take one little cup of +coffee. So! Now we are ready." + +The two descended to the drawing-room arm in arm, and there Jeanne related +all the circumstances that led to her coming to New Orleans, concealing +nothing. Her deep love and attachment to her country glowed through the +narrative like a golden thread. The lady and gentleman listened in silence +until she related General Butler's doubt of herself, when her uncle +sprang to his feet with an exclamation. + +"The scoundrel!" he cried. "To subject you to such treatment. And we are +helpless. Yes; we are helpless. Day after day some new act of injustice +comes to our ears and we must submit. But our time is coming, and I fancy +that Butler won't relish what his high handed proceedings will bring him." + +"He is truly a beast without the instincts of a gentleman," cried Madame +Vance, excitedly. "That is our name for him, Jeanne. 'Beast' Butler, and +well he deserves it." + +Jeanne moved uneasily. + +"It wasn't pleasant," she said, "and it was a new thing to me to have my +loyalty questioned, but I think he must have to do that way. You are so +against him, you know, that if he were not careful you might rise up and +drive him out. And the Union must have New Orleans. Father says that the +rebellion can never be put down unless the Mississippi River is in our +possession." + +"True for you, my little Yankee. And that is just where the Union will +fail. They did take New Orleans through the cowardice of its defenders, +but they'll never get Vicksburg. And so long as we can hold that the +Confederacy is safe. But you say that you ran past the Vicksburg +batteries. Tell that again." + +Jeanne retold that portion of her story to please him. + +"I am glad that you are here, child," remarked Mr. Vance when she had +finished. "But I am surprised at Brother Dick's sending you to face such +dangers. He always was an enthusiast in anything that he undertook, and +undervalued life if it stood in the way of accomplishing his object." + +"Father did not know that it was so risky," said Jeanne unwilling to hear +aught against her father. "He would not have sent me if he had. Besides I +wanted to come, and I am glad that I did come, now that I have met you +and Cherie." + +"Yes; I am glad for you to know her too," said Uncle Ben, his Yankee +tones sounding in flat contrast with his wife's sibilant ones. "I always +intended taking her North to see Dick's folks, but just as we were ready +to go this war came on and here we are now at the mercy of that Yankee." + +"But you are a Yankee too, Uncle Ben," said Jeanne bluntly. + +"Ages ago, little one. He has gotten over all that now," said Madame +Vance softly. "After you have been with us awhile you will get over your +rank Unionism too." + +Jeanne shook her head decidedly. + +"Dear Cherie," she said, "nothing could ever make me disloyal to my flag. +See! I always carry it with me." + +She drew the flag from her bosom and waved it proudly before her. Madame +Vance gasped, and her husband's face darkened perceptibly. + +"Little one, you will not carry it while here, will you? To please me, +dear, never take it out again." + +"Oh, but I must," said Jeanne. "I promised my own dear mother that I would +look at it every night and I must keep my promise. I wish I could please +you, Cherie, but I cannot. But I will do this much. I will not take it out +before you any more. I ought to respect your feelings, I know." + +"So much gained," murmured the lady aside to her husband. To Jeanne she +only said quietly: + +"Thank you, dear. You are an amiable little thing, and you shall have my +favorite darky for your maid while you are here. I will call Snowball and +she will help you to dress for dinner." + +"Snowball," echoed Jeanne. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT + + +"Yes; Snowball," repeated Madame. "A quaint name, is it not? She is so +black that I fancy that was the reason it was given her. She bore it when +your uncle bought her. She is very bright, and a master hand at waiting +upon one." + +Jeanne made no further remark but eagerly scanned the face of the darky +as she entered. She was indeed very black, and her shining ivories +were always visible in a smile. Good nature was written all over her +countenance, but Jeanne could see no resemblance to Tenny. + +"She may not be the one after all," she mused. + +"Snowball," said Madame. "Miss Jeanne will be your young lady now. Your +duty will be to attend to her and to look after her clothes while she is +here." + +"Yes'm;" Snowball dropped a curtsy. "Does yer want me ter do anything now, +little missy?" + +"Yes; help her to dress for dinner," replied Madame Vance speaking for +Jeanne. "We dine at eight, my dear." + +Jeanne followed the black to the room which had been given her, and +Snowball proceeded to brush her hair. + +"Snowball," said the girl suddenly, "was your mother named Tennessee? And +did they call her Tenny for short?" + +"Bress yer soul, honey, yes," cried Snowball letting the brush fall in +her astonishment. "How kum yer ter know dat?" + +"She was on the boat with me when I came from Memphis," replied Jeanne. +"She told me all about losing you and how much she thought of you, but +she thought that Colonel Peyton bought you." + +"Yes'm, he did. But de Kuhnel went to de wah an' he say he hab too many +darkies, so he sell off all but de ones he hab de longes', an' Massa Vance +bought me. What my ole mammy say?" + +"She loves you very much, and she misses you greatly, Snowball. I wish +I could buy you and set you free. Then you could go North to live with +her." + +"Wish yer could. I'd laik dat. An' I'd laik de bes' in de wohld ter see +my ole mammy ergain. How'd she look, missy?" + +Jeanne told the girl all that she could recall about Tenny. How she looked +and what she had said. Snowball's eyes glistened as she talked. + +"Yer got a good heart, little missy," she said as Jeanne paused for +breath. "You is de bestest lill' lady dat I eber seed. Snowball'll lub +ter wait on yer." + +And Jeanne soon found that it was really a labor of love to the girl, +and they grew to be fast friends despite the difference in color and +condition. In fact she soon found that she felt more at home with the +colored girl than she did with her aunt in spite of the caresses which +the latter lavished upon her. + +The days passed into weeks, and the weeks into months until two had rolled +by and Jeanne was still in New Orleans. She had grown pale and thin and +worn. She had no illness but suffered the bad effects of the wasting +climate. In all the time she had been there no word had come to her from +her parents, and a great longing for home possessed her. + +"Why does not my father write for me?" she murmured one morning as she sat +listlessly before the window. "What can have happened? Something is wrong +I know, or he would have sent for me." + +"Why so triste, my love?" asked her aunt entering the room. + +"Cherie," and Jeanne returned the caress that Madame bestowed upon her. +"I am wishing for my mother and home. I wonder why I have not heard from +my father." + +"It is strange," admitted the lady. "And yet, child, when one considers +the state of the country and how the Yankees seize mails and telegrams, +and exercise such a rigorous espionage over them one cannot wonder after +all. I have no doubt that he has written, but that his letters are being +detained for some reason by 'Beast' Butler." + +Jeanne made no reply. She had ceased for some time saying anything when +her aunt launched forth in a tirade against the Yankees. She was as +staunch a patriot as ever, but, without words, it had been borne in +upon her mind that her sentiments were unwelcome to her uncle and aunt, +and that it would be better for her not to give utterance to them. + +"Where is Snowball?" asked Madame Vance presently. "I wish to take you for +a drive, and you are not dressed. That darky gets more shiftless every +day. Where is she?" + +"Hyar I is, missus." Snowball started up from behind a huge brocaded chair +so quickly that she overturned a low table upon which stood a ewer that +had contained orangeade. A crash followed, and the culprit stood looking +at the fragments of the pitcher with consternation written over her face. + +"Come here," and Madame's tone was so stern that Jeanne looked at her +startled. "Forty lashes you shall have for this." + +"Please'm, missus, lemme off dis time. Clar ter goodness I didn't go ter +do it." + +"Please, please," said Jeanne tearfully. She had heard the sound of +whippings once or twice, but her aunt had always taken her away from the +sound immediately, and her soul sickened at the thought of them. "I could +not bear to have Snowball whipped, Cherie." + +"She must be punished," said the lady harshly. "Such carelessness cannot +be tolerated for a moment." + +"But isn't there some other way?" cried Jeanne. "Do, do, dear Cherie, use +some other way of punishment." + +"Jeanne, I beg you to say no more. Am I not capable of administering +the affairs of my own household? I want no Yankee notions down here. +I understand what she needs." + +Jeanne did not dare to reply. She had never before seen her aunt angry +although she knew that the blacks were very much afraid of her. Snowball +was taken down into the yard, and soon Jeanne heard the most fearful +screams as if a human being was suffering the utmost that a mortal could +endure of agony. + +She could not bear the cries. She ran down the stairs and out into the +yard where she beheld the girl stretched upon the ground on her face, her +feet tied to a stake, her hands held by a black man, her back uncovered +from her head to her heels. Her aunt was standing by directing a burly +negro in his task of applying the lash. + +The girl's back was covered with blood. Every stroke of the instrument +of torture tore up the flesh in long dark ridges. With a cry of horror +Jeanne caught the man's arm as it was about to descend for another stroke. + +"Stop," she cried. "For the love of mercy, stop!" + +"Go into the house, girl," commanded Madame Vance in terrible tones. "Who +are you that you should interfere with my bidding? Have I not the right +to do with my own slave as I wish? I want none of your abolitionism here." + +"But she has been whipped enough," cried Jeanne. "Surely it is enough. I +cannot bear it." + +She burst into tears. For a moment Madame's face was convulsed with fury, +and then a wonderful change came over it. She was once again the smiling, +affectionate lady that had greeted the girl on her arrival. + +"There!" she said going to Jeanne and putting her arms about her. "You +shall have your way. You see that 'Cherie' can refuse you nothing. Put up +your strap, Jeff. I will let the girl off this time because Miss Jeanne +wishes it. But see that you are more careful next time, Snowball. You +might not get off so easily." + +"Yes, missus," responded the sobbing creature as she was helped upon her +feet. + +"Now come, Jeanne, and we will go for our drive. You have no idea how +troublesome these blacks are, my dear. One has to keep an iron hand upon +them to hold them in subjection. But of course you are not used to them." + +"No," said Jeanne shrinking a little from her caresses. "We don't have +slavery at the North. I never felt so thankful of it before. Poor things! +Poor things!" + +Madame Vance's brow darkened, but she smoothed the girl's hair softly. + +"And aren't you going to forgive your poor 'Cherie'? Are you going to +turn against her because of a little whipping? You are unjust, Jeanne. +We who have the blacks to deal with know more of this matter than you +do. Besides did I not give it up when you asked me?" + +"Forgive me," answered Jeanne trying to feel the same toward the beautiful +woman as she had before, but too full of the recent horror to do so. "I am +not used to such things, Cherie, and it will take some time for me to get +over them." + +"We will say no more about it, you quaint one, but go for our drive." + +And soon they were out in the bright sunshine, the lady pointing out +places of interest as she had often done before, but it seemed to the +girl that she was trying to impress upon her mind the location of some +of the streets particularly. + +"Now," said Madame after they had returned to the villa and were partaking +of refreshments, "now you shall show me again the lunch basket with +its curious hiding-place. How clever your father must be, child! I long to +know him." + +"I wish we could go to him," sighed Jeanne as she obediently brought the +basket and showed once more the place where the quinine had been concealed. + +"Perhaps we may soon, who knows?" said the lady gaily, examining the +basket closely notwithstanding her liveliness. "I would tell you a +secret--but no; not now." + +"What, Cherie?" cried the girl with eagerness. "Is it about my father?" + +"Now, now, curious one!" madame shook her finger playfully at her. "Well +then, I will tell. I can refuse you nothing, petite. You wind yourself +about my heart so. Listen, and you shall hear the grand news. Your uncle +and I wonder too why your father does not write. We know that you have +a great desire for your home, and so we are going to take you there." + +"Home! Oh, Cherie!" Jeanne sprang to the lady and embraced her +rapturously, "Home! I am so glad! so glad!" + +"Is it not grand, little one? And we go together to see your clever +father and your beautiful mother. But your uncle has much to do first. +I will tell you more. He has deeded you all his property. His houses, +his carriages, his slaves, his horses, his money, in fact everything +which he possesses. Is he not kind?" + +"To me?" and Jeanne looked at her in bewilderment. "But why, Cherie?" + +"Because he thinks so much of you, and then too you are for the Union, and +the 'Beast' will not take them from you as he would from us." + +"But why should General Butler wish to take your property from you?" asked +the girl, who knew nothing of the Confiscation Act. In fact knowledge of +any kind had been carefully kept from her except such as reflected upon +the North. + +"I do not know, child. Who does?" shrugging her shoulders. "The vagaries +of the 'Beast' are not to be kept up with. But it does not matter. You +will have them and we will be pleased. We have no children, you know." + +"I know," said Jeanne kissing her. She could not understand the matter. +Her uncle had never shown any particular fondness for her, and in fact +seemed to shun her. "You are very kind to me, Cherie." + +"So kind that you would do one little thing for 'Cherie'?" asked the lady, +flashing a quick glance at her. + +"Certainly, I would," replied the girl unwarily. + +"Then listen, petite, and you shall hear how you can do a great service +for your uncle and me. Draw closer, my pet. None must hear what I would +tell you." + +Jeanne came close to her side and waited to hear what her aunt had to say. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A VICTIM OF DECEIT + + +"I do not know," began Madame in her soft voice, "whether I have told you +that I have a brother. Have I?" + +"No, Cherie." + +"I have, petite, in the Confederate Army. He is very dear to me. A few +days ago I learned that he was wounded and ill. He is not far from +the city, and he lies in a rude hospital tent without clothing or the +necessary food and medicine. Is it not hard, little one, to think of being +in the midst of plenty while my only brother is destitute?" + +"Yes," answered Jeanne with ready sympathy, "it is." + +"I thought that you would think so," and the lady smoothed her hair +gently. "Suppose that it were your own brother, Dick. I know that you +would do almost anything to help him, and I feel the same about Auguste. I +tried vainly to get a pass to go to him to take him some necessities, +but ma foi! That beast of a Yankee General will not give me one. I am +distressed. I suffer, but of what avail is it? I come to you, my little +one, for aid." + +"To me?" Jeanne looked her surprise. "What can I do, Cherie?" + +"You are so brave. You have so much cleverness. Could I do it I would not +ask it of you. But what would you! I am a coward. I faint at the least +noise. I lose my wits; and so, child, I want you to take some medicine +and food to my Auguste." + +"I to take it? Why how could I do it?" + +"'Tis easy to one who has the courage, petite. I would send Feliciane +with you. 'Tis only to elude the sentinels some dark night and once beyond +them the rest is nothing. Feliciane knows where a boat is hidden on Lake +Ponchartrain, and she would row you to the other side where you would +be met by one of my brother's comrades who would receive the things. +Then you step once more into the boat, and Mais! there you are safe and +sound in the city again." + +"Why could not Feliciane go alone?" questioned Jeanne. + +"My child, she has not the intelligence. One must demand nothing of these +creatures that calls for the exercise of reason. Will you go, my pet?" + +"Would it be wrong, Cherie?" + +"Wrong to carry food to a wounded soldier? Why should you think so, child?" + +"Then it is nothing against the government?" + +"No; I would not ask it of you if it were. Will you please me, Jeanne? +Your uncle would like it too." + +"Yes, Cherie, I will," said Jeanne after a moment's thought. "If it is +only to take some food to a poor soldier it cannot be wrong. When do you +wish me to go?" + +"Dearest, to-night. There is no moon and it will be easier to elude the +guards. I may use your basket, may I not? It will not be so heavy to +carry." + +"If you wish," assented Jeanne. "But it will not hold much." + +"I only want to send a few, a very few things. Just what he needs most +to put heart into him, poor fellow! And then when you come back, we will +plan our journey to your home. Oh, we will have the grand time!" + +The day wore away. Madame Vance talked volubly about the girl's home and +asked her so many questions concerning it that Jeanne was wrought up to +the highest pitch. At last the darkness fell. With it came a drizzling +rain and to the tenderly nurtured girl it seemed that this would put a +stop to the enterprise; but no. + +"Could anything be more fortunate," cried Madame who was in the highest +spirits. "Nothing could be better for our purpose. Ah, petite, you will +outwit the Yankee soldiers yet." + +Jeanne looked troubled. The matter had not presented itself in that light +before. + +"I am not doing wrong, am I, Cherie?" she asked dubiously. "It is nothing +against the government, is it?" + +"To be sure not. How quaint you are to ask that again! Would I have you +to do wrong?" + +The preparations were finally completed. Robed in dark waterproof garments +Jeanne took the basket given her by her father and, accompanied by +Feliciane, a mulatto woman, set forth, again upon a mission. But this +time the girl was downcast in spirit, and had not the lofty exaltation of +an approving conscience. + +The two walked in silence through the dark streets of the city. The +woman glided swiftly along as if accustomed to the journey, making many +devious windings and turnings. Jeanne's progress was slower and the +mulatto often had to pause to wait until she could catch up with her. + +"Missy be keerful hyar," whispered the woman, when at length the outskirts +of the city were reached. "Keep close ter de trees." + +Jeanne obeyed. The sentinel's lonely figure could scarcely be discerned +in the darkness. Unconscious of their proximity the man was singing +softly to himself as he patrolled his post steadily. To the girl it +seemed as though her heart beats must betray their presence. The black +touched her hand gently and, as the guard turned to retrace his steps, +they glided silently past him, and were lost in the darkness. The skiff +was found, and the strong steady strokes of the woman soon pulled them +out upon the waters of Lake Ponchartrain. + +"We got by all right, lill' missy, didn't we?" chuckled she. + +"Yes," assented Jeanne. "Is it far, Feliciane?" + +"A long way," was the response. "We won't git back 'tel de mohnin'." + +"Until morning?" echoed Jeanne in dismay. "Will we have to be out in this +rain all that time?" + +"Yes, honey. It's bes' fer it ter rain. De Yanks can't see yer den. Missus +she laikes fer it ter rain when she go." + +"Does she ever go?" asked Jeanne sitting up very straight. "I thought that +she was afraid to go." + +"De Madame ain't 'fraid ob nuffin," was the emphatic reply. "She usen ter +go often. She done carried heaps ob things ter de rebs." + +"But it has been because of her brother, Feliciane," said Jeanne, gently +trying not to condemn her aunt too severely. + +"Huh brudder? What brudder? She ain't got no brudder. What you talkin' +'bout?" + +"Oh, Feliciane, aren't we carrying food and medicine to her poor wounded +brother, Auguste?" + +"What makes you think dat, chile? Massa Auguste killed long time ago when +de wah fust beginned. 'Couhse we ain't takin' things ter huh brudder. +We's carryin' news ter de Massa Gin'ral dat de Yanks gwine ter 'tack him." + +"Then," said Jeanne bitterly. "I have been fooled. I will give no aid to +the enemy. Turn this boat back, Feliciane." + +"Not ef I knows myself, honey. I done want no whoppin'. Madame Vance sent +me, an' I'se gwine ter do what she say. What'd yer kum fer ef yer didn't +want ter holpe dem?" + +"Because I did not know what I was doing. Madame told me it was to take +food to her wounded brother." + +"She's a great one fer pullin' de wool ober de eyes," chuckled the +negress. "Missus kum nigh gittin' ketched de las' time she kummed, so +den she sent you." + +"Oh!" Jeanne sat very still, her heart heavy with what she had heard. +Truthful herself, the knowledge that her aunt could stoop to such +duplicity filled her with anguish. Her eyes were fast opening to the +fact that the sweetness of the lady and her honeyed words masked a cruel, +treacherous nature, and unaccustomed as she was to deceit of any sort +she was weighed down by the discovery. + +"Feliciane," she said coaxingly. "I will give you more money than you ever +had in all your life before if you will turn this boat back." + +"No, missy. Yer can't hiah me ter do nuffin ob dat kine," came the +relentless tones of the darky. "Feliciane knows what's good fer huh, an' +she's gwine ter do it." + +"Well, my basket shall not go at any rate," cried Jeanne and she caught it +up to throw it overboard. But the darky seized her arm in a strong grip +and took the basket from her. + +"Be quiet, missy," she said, "er I'll hab ter settle yer. An' missus won't +keer nuther. She done laik yer nohow." + +Jeanne could do nothing in the woman's powerful clasp, and was compelled +to relinquish her hold on the basket. Placing it behind her the negress +took the oars again and resumed her rowing. Silence fell between the two +and steadily they drew nearer to the farther shore. At last after what +seemed hours to Jeanne the keel of the boat grated upon the sand and the +woman sprang out and drew the skiff upon the bank. + +"Come," she said to Jeanne and the girl mechanically followed her. + +"Halt! who goes there?" came the challenge. + +"A frien'," responded Feliciane. "Done yer know me, sah?" + +"Feliciane," exclaimed a voice joyfully. "You are a jewel. Have you +anything for us? Who is with you?" + +"Yes, sah; heah in dis basket missus sent. It's all erbout a 'tack what +de Yanks is a-gwine ter make on you folks. Missus kum moughty nigh bein' +kotched de las' time, an' so she sent de lill' missy with me." + +"Well, here are some letters. You won't be more than able to get back by +daylight. Are you too tired to make it to-night, Feliciane?" + +"No, sah. Missus 'spects me ter do it." + +"Well, good-bye. Thank your mistress for us, and tell her the boys in gray +will soon drive the Yankees out of the city, and she won't have this to +do much longer." + +"I'll tell huh, sah." + +Jeanne still silent went back to the boat. Every hope that she had held +that there was really a wounded brother of Madame's had died during the +interview, and the lady was meeting with that fierce arraignment in the +mind of the girl that youth always gives when for the first time the mask +of hypocrisy is torn from a loved face. + +The dawn was streaking the gray sky with crimson when they reached the +city again. The rain had ceased and the stormy night was to be succeeded +by a fair day. Jeanne's face showed white and stern in the gray of the +morning as she walked slowly by the black's side. Her lips were compressed +together in a straight line for she had determined that Madame Vance +should render an account of her duplicity to her. + +Presently Feliciane uttered an exclamation of alarm, and thrust the +package that the rebel had given her into Jeanne's hands. + +"Run, missy, run," she cried. "De Yanks am a-kumin'." + +Involuntarily the girl quickened her steps, but she had gone but a short +distance when she was caught by the shoulder, and brought to a standstill. + +"You are under arrest," said the gruff voice of a soldier. "Give me that +package you have." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BEFORE GENERAL BUTLER AGAIN + + +Jeanne handed the package to the soldier without a word. The man took it +and then said in a harsh manner: + +"Follow me. It seems to me that you are beginning mighty young." + +Still silent the girl trudged wearily along beside him. She was very tired +and the way to the Custom-House was long. But she uttered no complaint. +Far bitterer to bear than fatigue was the thought that she, Jeanne Vance, +had carried information to the enemies of her country. + +The Custom-House where General Butler had established his permanent +official headquarters was finally reached, and she was conducted through +the court-room where Major Bell was dispensing justice to a smaller room +adjoining the office of the Commander. A number of persons were in the +apartment awaiting the coming of the General. + +"Has the General come in yet?" asked her captor of an Orderly. + +"No; but we expect him every moment. Is it anything of importance?" + +"I think so. I captured a young girl who has been beyond the lines, and +has returned with a package of letters from the Johnnies. The other boys +gave chase to the negro woman who was with her, but this is the main one, +I guess. I think the General ought to see the letters immediately." + +"By all means. I will tell him as soon as he comes, so that he will attend +to you at once. There are a number waiting this morning." + +Faint and weary Jeanne sank into the seat assigned her, and waited +apathetically the summons which were to lead her to the General's +presence. It came soon and she was led into the office where the General +sat behind a long table on which lay a pistol. + +This was the man's sole precaution against assassination, and was used +only after the discovery of one or two plots to kill him. There were +several of his staff with him in the room, but the girl saw only the +stern face of the Commander. He gave a start of surprise as his eyes +fell upon her. + +"You?" he exclaimed. "Are you the girl who has been caught bringing +contraband letters into the city? Child, child, I am surprised." + +Jeanne's lips quivered and she turned very pale, but she only said: + +"Yes, sir; I did it." + +"And you are the girl who professed such devotion to the cause of your +country? You, who carried the flag upon your person, and kissed it to show +your patriotism? I am more than surprised! I am grieved!" + +"Don't," exclaimed Jeanne, her utterance choked with sobs. "Oh, sir, I +do love my country, but I am not worthy to carry its flag any longer. Take +it." She drew the flag from her dress and laid it before him. + +Her distress was so evident, so real that General Butler's glance softened. + +"If you feel like that," he said not unkindly, "perhaps you will tell me +the truth about the matter." + +"Gladly," cried Jeanne eagerly. "I will tell you anything that you ask." + +"These letters prove that there has been communication exchanged before. +Have you ever been on a like expedition?" + +"No, sir; I do not know that you will believe me when I say that I did not +know what I was doing when I went on this errand. But I did not. I would +rather have died than to have given aid to the enemies of the Union; and +yet I did it." + +"Suppose you tell me just how it happened," suggested the General. "I will +gladly hear any extenuating circumstances that you may give, for I am loth +to believe that you are guilty of treachery." + +With many tears Jeanne related her story. "I can never forgive myself," +she concluded mournfully. "I deserve to be punished." + +"What was in the basket that you carried over?" + +"There was some medicine, quinine, I think, jellies, and other delicacies." + +"There were no documents of any kind? Think well, child." + +"I did not see any, but Feliciane told me, and the rebel soldier also, +that there was news of an attack to be made upon General Thompson. I am +convinced that the intelligence was concealed in the false bottom of my +basket. You remember where I carried the quinine, sir?" Then she told how +her aunt had examined the basket and suggested its use. + +"Beyond doubt it carried the information," remarked Butler. "General +Thompson with his men is just beyond our lines. I have known for some +time that communication had been going on between the citizens and the +soldiers, and have been keeping a sharp lookout. Still they managed to +elude my vigilance some way. The Vances are among the ring leaders. Why +have you remained here so long?" he asked, suddenly. "Why have you not +returned to your father?" + +"I have not heard from him," said Jeanne, her tears flowing afresh. "In +all this long time I have not heard one word." + +"That is very strange!" The General looked thoughtful. "Of course in +the vicinity surrounding us, and in all the country between here and +Richmond the telegraphs and mails are in the hands of the Confederates. +But a letter could come safely by the sea route. I am in communication +with Washington continually. There must be something wrong. Have you +written to him?" + +"Often and often. Uncle Ben mailed the letters for me. My aunt told me +yesterday that they were going to take me home soon." + +"After hoodwinking you the way she has, do you believe it? There is +something here that I do not understand. I believe that you are truthful, +child, and have been victimized for some purpose. I will have to watch +those people more closely." + +"But how could I consent to do what I have?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, I will +never forgive myself." + +"Older ones than you might have been deceived," comforted the General. "I +have read that 'under every flower there lurks a serpent'; and where there +is so much sweetness and amiability there is ground for the suspicion +that the reptile will sooner or later make his appearance. You must +guard against such seductive measures, my child. They are more to be +feared than the most violent opposition. Your uncle has a great deal of +property, has he not?" + +"Why, yes," said Jeanne. "But do you know, General, that the queer part +of it is that he has given it all to me?" + +"Ha, ha!" roared the General. "Another attempt to evade the Confiscation +Act, eh? And you did not know the reason?" + +"My aunt said that you would take it from them because they were rebels, +and that as I was a Unionist you would not touch it if it were mine." + +"I think that I'll make that a boomerang that shall rebound on their own +heads," remarked the General with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, child, what +are you going to do?" + +"I do not know, sir. I wish I could go home." + +"Would you feel very badly if I sent you back to your uncle's?" + +"Must I go there?" Jeanne uttered a cry of dismay. "I don't believe that +I can, General Butler. I don't feel as if I ever wanted to see either of +them again." + +"But if you could help me?" suggested the General. "You might, Jeanne." + +"If I could be of any service," said Jeanne bravely though every feature +showed her dislike to the suggestion. "I will go." + +"You are a brave little girl," said the Commander with appreciation. "I +believe in you thoroughly, child, else I would not ask this of you." + +"I am glad that you trust me," said Jeanne gratefully, her last fear of +him vanishing. "I had begun to believe that I could never trust myself +again." + +"Our truest strength lies in knowing our weaknesses," said the General +sententiously. "Truth is written on your face, and you are earnest and +thoughtful beyond your years. The thing I wish you to do is this: go +back to your uncle's and conduct yourself as far as possible as you have +done. I am convinced that another attempt will soon be made to carry +information to Thompson. I want you to let me know when the time will +be. You can find out by keeping your eyes and ears open. Show that you +are indignant at the part you have been made to play for that will be +expected. Send me word the moment you suspect that the attempt will be +made. Can you do this?" + +"I will try, General. I will do it if only to redeem myself in your eyes. +If I can find out the time I will." + +"Then you may go now. I think you can understand why it is that I am so +suspicious of every one, do you not, child? By the way, I found that +everything was just as you said it was when you were here before. That +has made it easy for you this time. Am I forgiven for the way I treated +you then?" + +"I forgave you long ago," said the girl sweetly. "I had been here but a +short time when I realized that you must have hard work to hold these +people down. And you have been good to believe me, General Butler. You +are not nearly so bad as people think you are. They don't know how kind +you are." + +The General laughed and then sighed. + +"I am afraid that there are not many who will agree with you," he said. +"But there, child! I must attend to business. I will write to your father +myself and just as soon as I hear from him you shall know it." + +"Will you?" cried Jeanne. "And oh, do tell him to send for me soon." + +"Yes, you poor child! Or if I see an opportunity to send you safely home +you shall go. I think that I can send you by one of the steamers. If I +had known of this you should have returned with Mrs. Butler." + +"I wish I could have done so," said the girl wistfully. + +"Well, you shall go soon, I promise you. Keep a brave heart, and remember +that it will not be long before you shall go. Good-bye." + +He shook hands with her warmly, and then stopped her as she was leaving +the room. + +"Your flag, my little girl. We had forgotten your flag." + +"I am not worthy," whispered the girl looking longingly at it. + +"My dear, so long as your heart is as loyal as it is there is no one more +worthy. Take it and keep it unsullied as you have done." + +Jeanne took it joyfully and then departed. Full of misgiving she +reluctantly wended her way toward her uncle's house. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE VELVET GLOVE CONCEALS THE IRON HAND + + +There was an unusual stir in the villa when Jeanne arrived. Madame Vance +greeted her with some eagerness. + +"What has become of the letters?" she cried. "Surely you did not permit +the Yankees to take them?" + +"I could not help it, Cherie," answered Jeanne noting with her newly +acquired insight into the lady's character that her own well-being was +of no importance. "I did not know that the soldiers were near until +Feliciane gave the alarm and thrust the papers into my hand. She should +have kept them. Did she escape?" + +"She did. Of course she thought that you would make an effort to do the +same. What did the 'Beast' say when he found that a Yankee girl was +working against him? It is very droll." And she laughed maliciously. "I +am surprised that you got away from him at all." + +"I would not have done so had he not believed that I was but a tool in +your hands," answered the girl bluntly. "I will never forgive you, Cherie, +for the way you deceived me. You told me that your brother was wounded, +and that it was only to take him some medicine and food, and you have +no brother at all. Was the information that you sent concealed in my +basket?" + +"Certainly it was," returned Madame lightly. "Was it not for that purpose +that you showed me the hiding-place yesterday? Thanks to your cleverness +General Thompson is aware of an attack by which Butler meant to surprise +him. That basket of yours is a jewel for hiding contraband articles. It +will be used again." + +"It shall never again be so used if I can help it," cried Jeanne goaded +beyond endurance by the knowledge of how she had been tricked. "I would +not have believed that you would have been guilty of telling an untruth. +You ought to be ashamed of yourself." + +"Everything is fair in love and war," said the other mockingly. "It is +not wrong to falsify to Yankees." + +"I will never forgive you. Never!" cried the girl passionately. "I told +General Butler just how you deceived me, and I never can trust you again. +To think that such a woman is the wife of my uncle!" + +"Be careful of your words, my little Yankee," and the black eyes of the +lady glittered balefully. "I have treated you well heretofore, but I may +repent of my soft usage. If gentle means will not convince you of the +error of your ways we will try other means." + +"What do you mean? You dare not use me otherwise than well. I would not +submit to anything else, and Uncle Ben would not allow you to ill treat +me." + +"Your uncle will permit anything that I choose to do," retorted Madame +angrily, and the girl knew that she spoke truly. Mr. Vance yielded to +his wife in everything. "And listen, girl! I dare anything that I choose +to do. I am sick of your puritanical ways, and I have resolved to change +them. Why did you return if you were not of our way of thinking? Why did +you not stay with 'Beast' Butler since you agree so well? Speak, girl! why +did you come back?" + +"I--I--because----" Jeanne was unable to proceed. The question was so +unexpected that she was not prepared to answer it. + +"Aha!" and Madame regarded her keenly. "I see. You came back to spy upon +us. Deny it if you can." + +Then as the girl made no reply she called: + +"Feliciane, Feliciane!" The woman entered the room. "Take this girl to +the strong room," she commanded. + +"Don't dare to touch me," cried Jeanne springing away from the woman. "I +will tell General Butler of this." + +"So?" and Madame's face became purple with rage. "You admit it. I thought +as much. You have returned as a spy. Oh, he boasts of having his creatures +in every household, but he has a de la Chaise to deal with in me. Away +with her, Feliciane!" + +In vain Jeanne struggled and cried out against the indignity. She was +helpless in the hands of the muscular negress, and was soon carried +struggling and screaming to the top floor of the house, and pushed +unceremoniously into a room, the door closed and locked upon her. + +"Foh de land sake, lill' missy, what you doin' heah?" came in a hoarse +whisper and Jeanne turned to see the face of Snowball peering at her. + +"Snowball, are you here?" she cried stifling her sobs and trying to +penetrate the gloom of the darkened chamber. + +"Yes, missy, I is. Dey allers puts us in heah aftah we's whipped. But how +kum you heah? You wuzn't whipped, wuz yer?" + +"No;" and Jeanne seated herself by the prostrate form of the girl and took +her hand. "I would rather have been than to do what I did yesterday." She +told the darky how Madame had beguiled her into taking the trip to the +Confederates, and of her subsequent arrest and discharge. + +"I hopes dis Butler will help yer ef de missus got a grudge agin yer," +muttered Snowball. "An' she sut'n'ly hab got one elsen she wouldn't put +yer in dis place whar we niggas is put. Why, missy, dis ain't no place +foh yer." + +"But you have to stay here, Snowball. I ought to stand it if you do. I +wish there was some way to get word to General Butler. He would take me +from here I know." + +"Dere won't be no way, missy," said Snowball with melancholy conviction +as Jeanne sprang to her feet and began a hurried inspection of the room. +"Missus wouldn't leab a mouse hole ef she thought it could be used." + +And Jeanne found her words true. It was a small low room without furniture +of any kind. A pile of straw upon which the darky lay was the only thing +in it. There were iron shutters at the windows so strong that it would +require the strength of a man to open them. The door was bolted and +Jeanne resumed her seat by the girl in a hopeless manner. + +"What can we do, Snowball?" + +"Nuffin. Can't do a bressed thing tell de missus ready ter let us out. +'Tain't so bad when yer gits usen ter de dahk." + +"Does your back hurt much?" + +"Not now, honey. It did huht awful when dey pouhed de brine on tho'." + +"The brine! Not salt water, Snowball?" + +"Yes'm. It did huht shore nuff when dey pouhed dat on. Dey does it kase +dey think de whip won't make no scahs when dey heal. But it do huht awful." + +This new horror held Jeanne silent, and her tears fell fast. A fierce +indignation foreign to her usually gentle nature shook her from head to +foot. "And father used to say that abolitionists were extremists," she +thought. "Oh, if ever I get home again I'll cry out on the streets against +slavery." + +"Is yer cryin', lill' missy?" exclaimed Snowball, as the warm drops fell +upon her hands. "Done yer do it. It done mattah 'bout a pore nigga laik +me. Heah you is tiahed mos' ter def, I reckon. Can't yer sleep?" + +"I'll try, Snowball," and Jeanne crept beside the girl on her straw. "I +am tired. I almost wish I could die." + +"Done yer be downhahted, missy. Dey'll take me outen heah soon. Jes' as +soon as ma back gits well, kase dey can't 'ford ter lose a val'able nigga +laik me, and ef dey doesn't take you outen dis 'fore den I'll run away +ter de Gin'ral. Heaps of de cullah folks go ter him." + +"Will you, Snowball?" A gleam of hope stole into Jeanne's heart. She +snuggled down into the straw and soon fell into a deep sleep. + +When she awakened she was alone in the room. During her slumber Snowball +had been taken away, and Jeanne missed her companionship sorely. A +pitcher of water and some bread had been placed by her side, and the +girl ate ravenously for she had taken no food since the day before. +Then once more she wandered about the room trying to find some means +of escape. Realizing that her efforts were useless she sank back on the +straw and gave herself up to thoughts of home and her dear parents. + +How little any of them thought that her journey would turn out as it had. +She pictured her father's indignation when she should tell him of the +treatment she had received and her mother's anxiety concerning her. Well, +even if Snowball did not get to see General Butler he would seek her just +as soon as he heard from her father. Perhaps when he found that he did +not hear from her he would come to see what the matter was. And so the +hours passed drearily by. + +No one came to the room and no sound reached her from below. By the +deepening of the gloom she knew that it was drawing near night, and she +looked forward with some dread to spending the long hours of darkness +in that cheerless place. But summoning all her fortitude she composed +herself for slumber. + +"I have the flag," she said to herself and took it from her bosom. "I +am so glad that the General gave it back to me. How is our side doing, I +wonder? Why didn't I think to ask him? It has been so long since I heard. +So long!" + +With the flag clasped to her breast she fell asleep once more. As before, +while she slept food and drink were placed beside her, and it began to +look as if she was to be condemned to solitude. In this manner two days +passed. On the morning of the third day she was rudely awakened by some +one shaking her. + +"Get up," cried Madame, who stood by her side. "Get up! We are going." + +"Going? Going where?" cried Jeanne, dazedly. + +"We are going to your home," answered Madame Vance. "Get up and come with +me if you care to go too." + +"Home!" repeated Jeanne thinking that she still slept. "Home!" + +"Yes; don't sit there like a silly, but come at once. That Yankee beast +has ordered that all of the registered enemies of the United States shall +leave the city. And we must go." + +"Are you really going to take me home?" asked the girl now thoroughly +awake. "Oh, if you will, I will forgive everything!" + +"Then get ready quickly," said Madame, a cruel light in her eyes which the +girl unfortunately did not see. "We must go at once. The 'Beast' will only +permit us to take what we can carry with us. The rest of the property +must go to enrich him and his brother. Oh, they are a nice pair, but ma +foi! what can one expect of Yankees?" + +Jeanne made no reply, but followed her to her own room where Snowball was +waiting to dress her. + +"Mus' you go, lill' missy?" whispered the girl as Madame left them for the +moment alone. "I'se 'feerd foh yer ter go." + +"Are you going too, Snowball?" + +"Missus say I is, an', ob couhse, I long ter huh I'se got ter ef she say +so. But I done want ter." + +An hour later Mr. and Madame Vance, Jeanne, Feliciane, Snowball and Jeff +left the city in company with a number of others. General Butler, wearied +with the intrigues of these avowed enemies of the government, had ordered +that they should leave his lines for the Confederacy, and imposed the +condition that they should not return. + +In all the throng that waited to see the Confederates depart Jeanne saw +no sign of the General. There were plenty of aids and members of his +staff who looked closely after the articles carried away by the departing +people, but of the General himself she saw nothing. And so the girl was +allowed to depart with the refugees without a word from the Unionists. +Blinded by her desire to get home, she left freedom and the protection +of the flag and went without question into the heart of Secessia. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +AGAIN DECEIVED + + +The party of Secessionists of which Mr. and Madame Vance were members +embarked on board the boat, Ceres, which steamed up the narrow winding +river, Tangipaho, to Manchac bridge, the terminus of a railroad that +led to Ponchatoula ten miles distant from which was the headquarters of +General Thompson; the main body of Confederates being nine miles further +on. + +The shores of the river presented to view nothing but desolation. Many of +the houses were deserted and every garden and field lay waste. Gaunt, +yellow, silent figures stood looking at the disembarking refugees, images +of despair. The people there had been small farmers, market gardeners, +fishermen and shell diggers; all of them absolutely dependent upon the +market of New Orleans from which they had been cut off for more than five +months. Roving bands of Guerillas and the march of the regiments had +robbed them of the last pig, the last chicken, the last egg and even +of their half grown vegetables. In all that region there was nothing +to eat but corn on the cob, and of that only a few pecks in each house. + +A locomotive with a train of platform cars stood on the track and the +party soon were gliding swiftly to the village. + +Jeanne's eyes brightened when she saw that the place contained a post and +telegraph office. + +"Uncle Ben," she said timidly for none of the party were in good spirits. +The men were sullen and the women bewailing their fate at being obliged to +leave their belongings behind them. + +"Uncle Ben," said Jeanne again as her uncle did not answer her. + +"Well, what is it?" he asked ungraciously. + +"Could I not telegraph to my father that we are coming? There is a +telegraph office here." + +"What made you think that we were going to Dick's?" he asked after a broad +stare of amazement. + +"Cherie told me," answered Jeanne her heart sinking at his expression. +"Aren't we going, dear uncle?" + +"Well, I rather guess not," said Mr. Vance emphatically. "I think we've +had enough of the Yankees without going where they are. Enough to last +us a lifetime." + +"Why did you tell me such a thing?" burst from Jeanne turning upon her +aunt with indignation. + +"Because, my dear little Yankee, I wanted the pleasure of your company, +of course," replied Madame mockingly. + +"That is not true," said Jeanne boldly. "You do not like me, Aunt +Clarisse," dropping the Cherie which she seldom afterward used. + +"No? you want the truth then?" said the woman suddenly. "Because I hate +you for being a Yankee." + +"But you did like me at first and I was a Yankee then," and the girl +shrank from the light in the other's eyes. + +"Yes; for a time, but I soon tired of you. You were too independent, and +had views that were tiresome to me. I might have loved you had you yielded +your will to mine. But you would not. You, a mere girl, set your judgment +up against mine, although I granted your lightest wish. Then you told +that Yankee General that your uncle had given you all the property and he +seized it in your name. Think you that I would let you stay to enjoy +our property when we were driven from the city? Oh, I saw through your +artfulness! But you shall not have the property if that Beast does!" + +"I did not want your property," replied Jeanne, her face becoming very +pale as she heard her aunt's words. "Why should I care for it? I want +only to go to my home. Please let me go back, Aunt Clarisse. I will beg +General Butler to let you have your property again and to send me home. +Truly, I do not want anything of yours. Let me go back." + +"Never," cried the other angrily. "Who would think that a puny faced thing +like you could be so sly!" + +Jeanne made no reply but sank into bitter thought. The rebel general, +Jefferson Thompson, received the refugees courteously and promised to +help them to reach friends and relatives in other parts of the South. +Meantime he gave them such refreshment as was at his disposal, resigning +to the Vances his own headquarters. For a few days they stayed here, being +joined by others from the city. Then they broke up into small parties +and scattered, each bent upon reaching his own objective point. + +To her consternation Jeanne was told that her uncle and aunt were bound +for Alabama, the very midst of Secession. The girl's heart died within her +when she found that this was their destination. With no friends near how +could she, a mere girl, hope to reach her own people surrounded as she +would be on all sides by rebels? She was almost in despair. + +At Waynesboro, they left the train and Mr. Vance, securing a carriage with +two good horses, announced his intention of driving through the rest of +the way. Madame Vance received the intelligence with demonstrations of joy +but Jeanne said nothing. In spite of her depression, however, she could +not but feel a sense of pleasure as they bowled along over the public road. + +It was a pleasing ride, ennobling to the soul as a series of beautiful +scenes were unrolled to the view. Far in the azure blue the great banks +of white clouds seemed to lie at anchor, so slow of sail were they. The +gloom of the dense forest gently waving its boughs to the breeze greeted +the eye. Ever and anon the dulcet murmur of gurgling streams broke gently +on the ear. Quiet cottages surrounded by flowers and fruits, the abodes +of peace and content, were passed; grass green marshes with here and +there a tall pine or sombre cypress standing as sentinels of the rich +mead; song birds caroling their sweet lays as they flitted from bough +to bough, or lightly soared in space; fields of deadened trees, all +draped with the long gray Spanish moss, were silhouetted against the +sky; groups of great oaks, with clusters of the mistletoe pendent. On +past plantations, busy with slaves whose merry songs floated far on +the gentle zephyrs. + +But as the day wore away proofs that grim-visaged war was raging in the +land came more and more into evidence. + +Want and desolation mark the track of soldiers. Armies must be fed and +hungry men respect neither friend nor foe when it comes to satisfying +their wants, and ravaged plantations and desolated homes marred the beauty +of the peaceful landscape. + +It was a long hard day's ride and Jeanne was glad when at last just as +the brief twilight was deepening, Mr. Vance descried a large house in the +distance and directed Jeff to drive them there so that they might have +shelter for the night. + +"Dar's nobody ter hum," was Jeff's announcement after knocking at all the +doors. + +"Go to the quarters and find out where the people are," commanded his +master, but the darky soon returned with the information that the cabins +were empty also. + +"Strange," said the gentleman. "What do you think we would better do, +Clarisse?" + +"Can you not open the doors in some way?" asked the lady pettishly. "I +am tired, mon ami, and if no one is there we might just as well take +possession. Private property doesn't seem to be respected these times." + +Without another word Mr. Vance gave the order, and the two men soon +succeeded in forcing an entrance. The fast falling darkness gave weird +glimpses of the interior of the residence. + +"Remain without," said her husband hastily, "until I get a light." + +Presently the cheering flash of a fire dispelled the gloom of the dwelling +and after being assured that everything was all right within, the lady +entered followed by Jeanne and the blacks. The October air was chilly and +the warmth of the pine knots was very acceptable. + +Jeanne crept into a corner where she could enjoy the blaze and fell into +a reverie. The poor child was very miserable. Her aunt and uncle scarcely +noticed her or when they did speak to her it was in such great contrast +to their former affectionate address that her heart was heavy indeed. + +The brightness of the pine knots in the vast fireplace lighted up the +room vividly. The apartment seemed to have been the living-room of the +family, and its disarrangement showed that the inmates had left its +sheltering walls hurriedly. At one end of the room were great spinning +wheels with the thread still hanging. + +Mr. Vance had drawn up an easy chair to one side of the odorous fire and +leaned silently back in its depths apparently lost in thought. His wife +was seated near him, the firelight glancing almost caressing on the rich +sheen of her hair and the vivid crimson of her cheek and lip. Snowball's +dusky figure flitted back and forth supplying the fire with the rich +pine knots as they were required while Jeff and Feliciane were busied +in the kitchen trying to get up something for a meal. + +Jeanne fell to studying the fair face of the woman before her wondering +over and over how one so beautiful could be so cruel. + +"Well! Have you finished staring at me?" demanded Madame suddenly. "Have +done with your impudence, girl. You make me nervous." + +"I beg your pardon," murmured Jeanne shrinking from the light in her +aunt's eyes. "I do not wish to make you nervous. I was just thinking----" + +"I don't care what you are doing," said the other sharply. "I do not wish +to be stared at." She sat back in her chair, and relapsed into silence. +Jeanne withdrew her gaze, but it wandered unconsciously to her uncle's +face. He moved uneasily, but made no comment. + +Presently Madame gave utterance to a harsh laugh, and looked at the girl +strangely. + +"How would you like this for a home?" she asked abruptly. + +"What do you mean?" cried Jeanne. + +"Just what I say. How would you like to live here?" + +"I would not like it," replied the girl decidedly. "I like my own home +best. There is no place like New York." + +"Perhaps you may change your mind," and Madame gave vent to a peal of +unpleasant laughter. "I believe that you will have the opportunity." + +"What do you mean?" asked Jeanne again, but the lady's only answer was +a shrug of her shoulders. + +A vague uneasiness filled Jeanne's mind at her strange demeanor. She kept +looking at the girl with a curious, half triumphant expression, while +ever and anon she laughed in that strange way that made the girl's blood +chill with apprehension. She was glad when at last Mr. Vance ordered them +all to retire. + +"There are plenty of rooms and good beds," he said. "Very likely the +people left hurriedly else they would have taken them with them, or +perhaps they left them because they will soon return. However it may +be, we must get a good night's rest for to-morrow we have a long day's +ride before us." + +Jeanne chose a room at the end of the upstairs hall and entering it closed +the door securely. Tired as she was from her long ride she could not +sleep but lay thinking deeply about her aunt's strange behavior. She had +become so accustomed to the lady's vagaries that she knew that some new +idea had suggested itself to her and she felt that it related to herself. + +At last her eyes grew heavy, and soon she fell into the deep untroubled +sleep of youth. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP + + +It was late when Jeanne awoke, and springing up she dressed hastily and +went downstairs. There was no one in the living-room. The fire had died +down and a few glowing coals gleamed red in the ashes. Full of a vague +alarm and fearing she knew not what, Jeanne ran into the kitchen but there +was no one there. Quickly she ran from one room to another but all were +empty. The apartments appeared larger and more desolate than ever in +their emptiness. Again and again the now frightened girl ran through the +rooms and out upon the galleries, but the echo of her own voice was all +the answer that came to her cries. At last the truth dawned upon her. +She had been abandoned by her uncle and aunt. + +This then was the meaning of Madame's laughter. She, Jeanne, a Union +girl, had been left to get along as best she could on a lonely, deserted +plantation in the very midst of rebeldom; to live or die as the case +might be. + +With a cry the girl flung herself upon the floor and let the flood of +her anguish sweep over her. A great fear was upon her. The fear of the +unknown. Never before had she been so utterly, so entirely alone. It was +long before she could control herself, and when at last she sat up, and +tried to think calmly, she seemed to have grown older. + +"I must be brave," she thought. "Perhaps it is better so after all. I am +no worse off than I was with them. May be I can make my way back to New +Orleans and General Butler will send me home. But where am I? I don't know +whether it is Alabama or Mississippi, but whichever it is, I must try to +get back to Louisiana. Oh, my money!" + +Hastily she searched for it and, to her great joy, found the bills safely +hidden in the lining of her dress. Long ago her aunt had complained of the +thieving of the blacks, and cautioned Jeanne to hide securely whatever +she had of value. + +"Aunt Clarisse must have forgotten it," she exulted, "or she would have +taken it from me. 'One can always get along if one has money,' father +said. This will help me to get home. I wonder if my flag is safe!" + +Full of anxiety lest the beloved emblem might have been taken she thrust +her hand into the folds of her dress, and to her great delight, found it +still there. Drawing it forth she gazed at it lovingly, and then shook it +out straight. As she did so her eye was caught by a piece of paper pinned +to one corner of it. With an exclamation Jeanne caught at it eagerly. + +"My dear little Yankee," it ran. "We leave you in possession. There is +not much to eat in the house, but ma foi! what care you? Have you not your +flag? Knowing your penchant for appropriating other people's property we +have given you an opportunity to acquire more belongings. Are we not kind? + +"Should you see your honored parents again (which I very much doubt) +present my truest affection to them. Hoping that your solitude will give +you time to repent of your past misdeeds, believe me, + + "As ever, + "Cherie." + + +Jeanne's eyes blazed in sudden anger, and she clenched her hands +determinedly. + +"I will see my parents again," she cried, passionately. "I will, I will! +All the rebels in the world shall not keep me from it! I'll start right +back for New Orleans." + +Full of this resolution she arose and went into the house in search of +something to eat! As Madame Vance had written there was very little food +in the dwelling. A thin slice of bacon and a small hoe cake was all that +Jeanne could find, but she ate them, then started forth on her journey +back to New Orleans. + +Taking what she believed was the road over which they had come the girl +trudged bravely along although it wound through a deep forest. On and on +through the dark green gloom of the woodland she walked, knowing nothing +of the vegetation of the South, and afraid to touch herbs or the wild +fruit. + +"I did not think the forest went so far," she murmured, as the day wore +away and the shadowy vista of woods still opened before her. "And there +was a house just beyond the trees. I ought to get to it soon. Then I will +ask to stay for the night." + +But the woods grew denser, and the road became but a narrow bridle path. +The afternoon drew to a close, and the brief twilight came suddenly upon +her in the depths of the forest. + +Jeanne stopped dismayed, and then sank down at the foot of a tall pine. +A feeling of homesick desolation crept over her, filling her with vague, +undefined forebodings. The tall long-leaved pines and funereal cypress +trees rose on either side. The twilight deepened into night and the hum +of Nature's wildwood insects came to her ear. From the deeper forest +came the plaintive cry of the whippoorwill. As the darkness deepened the +hooting of the owls could be heard and the croaking of some frogs from +a near-by swamp. + +Jeanne felt cold chills creep up and down her back as the tall trees +festooned with gray moss, almost reaching to the ground, swayed to and +fro as a shiver of moaning wind stirred the air. + +"I cannot stay here," she exclaimed springing to her feet. "It is better +to keep on walking. Surely there must be a house somewhere near!" + +And so, though she was faint from hunger and weary from walking, she +trudged on. Presently the moon came up and deluged the forest with a +shining flood of light. The dark pines, half in shadow, half in sheen, +loomed vast and giant-like on either side of the gleaming path beneath. + +Afraid to stop and rest, Jeanne walked on and on. All at once she heard +singing. The sound filled her with new life and she hastened eagerly +in its direction. Louder and louder came the melody to her ears until +presently she was able to distinguish the words: + + "'Do they miss me at home, + Do they miss me? + 'Twould be an assurance most dear, + To know at this moment some lov'd one + Were saying, "I wish he were here"; + To feel that the group at the fireside + Were thinking of me as I roam; + Oh, yes, 'twould be joy beyond measure + To know that they miss me at home, + To know that they miss me at home.'" + +Tears rushed into the girl's eyes and a sob broke from her lips. "Do they +miss me, I wonder?" she said brokenly. "Oh, mother, mother! How little +do you think that I am wandering about in the woods without a place to +lay my head. Mother, mother!" + + "'Do they set me a chair near the table, + When evening's home pleasures are nigh, + When the candles are lit in the parlor, + And the stars in the calm, azure sky? + And when the good-nights are repeated, + And all lay them down to their sleep, + Do they think of the absent and waft me + A whisper'd "good-night" while they weep? + A whisper'd "good-night" while they weep?'" + +Jeanne looked up as the singer came toward her. The bright moonlight fell +full upon him as he paused for a moment to examine the lock of his gun, +and she saw that he was a Confederate soldier on picket duty. He resumed +the song as he swung the gun back to his shoulder. + +"He is like Dick," thought the lonely girl. "I am sure that he has a kind +heart, or he would not sing that song. Maybe he has a sister too." + +Summoning all her courage she spoke timidly. "Sir," she said. + +"Who goes there?" cried the startled picket with an ominous click of his +weapon. + +"Just a little girl," answered Jeanne, coming forward into the moonlight. +"I'm lost, and I don't know where to go." + +"A girl! It's true I do declare!" burst from the sentinel's lips as he +lowered his gun. "How do you come to be here in the woods at this time +of night?" + +"I am trying to get back to New Orleans, and I must have taken the wrong +road." Jeanne was trembling but she tried to control herself. "Oh, could +you tell me where I could get something to eat and a place to sleep? I--I +am afraid." + +Her voice broke and despite her efforts at self-command she burst into +tears. + +"There! Never mind! I'll take you to Miss Bob," said the soldier with +rough kindness. "The woods ain't no place fur a girl at night. Just come +with me." + +Jeanne followed him gladly. A brisk walk of fifteen minutes brought them +to a camp. The tents gleamed white among the trees and it seemed to the +girl as though she had never seen so many in all her life before. Some +men lounged lazily about one of the many fires that dotted the place, +talking in subdued tones. They stared at the girl as the sentinel came +in with her but made no remark. The soldier paused before a small tent +and called softly: + +"Miss Bob! Miss Bob! are you asleep?" + +"What is it, Johnson?" came the reply in the soft sleepy tones of a girl. + +"Here is a girl out here who is lost. She is hungry and wants a place to +sleep. Will you see to her? I am on duty." + +"Certainly. Go back to your post, Johnson. I will be out in a minute." + +"All right." The soldier saluted and walked off leaving Jeanne a prey to +conflicting emotions. + +In a few moments the flap of the tent was pushed aside, and the slight +figure of a girl about Jeanne's own age emerged from it. + +"You are lost?" she asked advancing toward Jeanne and speaking quickly. +"And hungry, I think Johnson said. Come, we'll have something to eat, and +then go to bed. Are you tired?" + +Jeanne nodded, unable to speak. + +"Sit here by the fire while I fix things. Jim," to one of the men, "this +girl is hungry. Will you help me get something for her to eat?" + +"'Course I will, Miss Bob." The man sprang to his feet and walked briskly +away disappearing into what Jeanne afterward learned was the commissary +department. + +"We'll have something in a jiffy," remarked the girl encouragingly, +beginning to poke up the fire. + +"See here, Miss Bob, let me do that," and another of the men ran to her +side. "I reckon Jim and me can fix things. 'Tain't no work for you." + +Soon cold chicken, bread, and hot coffee were placed before the hungry +girl and she ate ravenously. + +"I didn't know that soldiers had chickens to eat," she remarked with a +sigh of satisfaction as she finished the last morsel. + +The girl called Bob laughed merrily, the men joining in heartily. + +"We don't usually," and Bob controlled her risibles with difficulty, "but +you see a whole heap of them walked right into camp, and so of course we +ate them." + +"Wasn't it queer that they should come right into camp?" said serious +Jeanne. "I always thought that you had to run after them to catch them." + +Again the girl and the men laughed. + +"Of course they didn't exactly come here," said Bob comfortably, "but +we've got the smartest regiment in the whole Confederate army. I verily +believe that it could catch and skin a hog without a man leaving the +ranks. Oh, they are fine foragers!" + +"Forager?" Jeanne looked mystified. "I wonder if Dick is a forager!" + +"Who is Dick?" + +"Dick is my brother in the army," said Jeanne proudly. + +"Well, if he is a soldier you can depend upon it that he is a forager," +said Bob with decision. "Which side is your brother on?" + +"The Union." + +The smile died away from the girl's lips at the reply, and she looked at +Jeanne with coldness. + +"I did not think that you were a Southerner when you spoke," she said. +"What are you doing here? We are Confederates." + +"Yes, I know," answered Jeanne. "My aunt and uncle left me on a deserted +plantation because I was a Yankee, and I started back to New Orleans +hoping that General Butler would send me home. I must have taken the +wrong road, and so gotten lost. You won't turn me away, will you, just +because I am a Yankee?" + +"No; not for to-night anyway. I just hate Yankees, but I reckon you don't +count as you are a girl. Come on to bed now, and we'll talk it over in +the morning." + +And Jeanne went into the tent content to let the morrow take care of +itself now that she was sheltered for the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +"BOB" + + +At daybreak the roll of martial drums startled Jeanne into wakefulness. + +"What is it?" she cried, springing from the couch. + +"The drummers are beating the reveille," answered the calm voice of Bob +who was already up. "That means that it is time to get up. You needn't +be in a hurry, however. There are two hours yet until breakfast." + +"But you are dressing," said Jeanne. "I will too." + +"I always get up when the regiment does," answered Bob. "But you are +different. You are a guest." + +"What are you?" asked Jeanne curiously. + +"The Colonel's daughter, and the child of the regiment. What is your name?" + +"Jeanne Vance. I live in New York city." + +"That is a long way from here," said Bob. "Do you mind telling me why you +came down here?" + +"I think I should like to," replied Jeanne gazing at the trim figure of +the girl admiringly. She was clad in a suit of gray cloth consisting +of a skirt and close fitting jacket with epaulets upon the shoulders. +A cap of the same material was perched jauntily upon her raven black +hair. Her face, piquant and sparkling, was tanned a healthy brown through +which the red of her cheeks glowed brightly. Jeanne thought that she +had never seen a more charming girl, and, rebel though she knew she was, +she felt her heart drawn toward her. + +"Yes, I think that I should like to tell you," she repeated, and then +as rapidly as possible she told of her mission and the events that had +followed its execution. + +Bob listened attentively. + +"It was awfully mean in your aunt to treat you the way she did," she +commented as Jeanne finished her story. "You are a brave girl even if you +are a Yankee, and I like you. Father says there are some nice ones, but +I reckon that they haven't so awfully many brave ones among them, or we +wouldn't be whipping them so." + +"Whipping them?" cried Jeanne aghast. "What do you mean by whipping them? +We were doing all the whipping the last I knew anything about it." + +"Well, you certainly haven't heard the news lately then," rejoined Bob. +"If you had, you would have learned that General Bragg had invaded +Tennessee and Kentucky and that the Confederates have both those states +back again. I tell you the Yankees are just 'skedaddling' before him." + +"It can't be true," wailed Jeanne. "Kentucky and Tennessee both taken from +us when we fought so hard to get them? Surely it is not true!" + +"But it is," asserted Bob positively. "And that is not the greatest news: +General Lee has not only driven McClellan from in front of Richmond, but +he has invaded Maryland and we expect to hear at any time that Washington +has fallen into our hands." + +"Is it true?" asked Jeanne again turning so pale that Bob thought she was +going to faint. + +"Here, drink this!" Bob tipped up her canteen of water to Jeanne's lips. +"I did not know that Yankees cared so much for such things." + +"Cared for such things," echoed Jeanne indignantly. "Of course we care. +How could any one hear that the Capital is menaced and not care? But the +traitors will never succeed in taking it. Never! I know our people. They +will defend it with their lives, and drive the treacherous miscreants, +who would dare profane by their touch, back to where they belong." + +"We are not traitors," flashed Bob. "We have a right to secede if we want +to. The Capital belongs as much to us as it does to you, anyway." + +"It doesn't," cried Jeanne angrily. "It belongs to the North because the +North is trying to uphold the Government left to us by our great and good +Washington." + +"Your great and good Washington," sneered Bob. "Washington belonged to +us, I'd have you know. He was a Virginian, and let me tell you, that if it +hadn't been for Southerners there never would have been any United States +anyway." + +"There would too," flashed back Jeanne. "My great-grandfather fought +in the Revolution, and there were plenty who fought that were not +Southerners." + +"And who led them, pray?" demanded Bob. "Why, George Washington, a +Southerner. Who wrote the Declaration of Independence? Thomas Jefferson, a +Southerner. Who got up the Constitution? Why James Madison, a Southerner. +And mind you, Jeanne Vance, this country couldn't be run at first +except by Southerners. Out of the first five presidents, four were +Southerners." + +"Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe," and Jeanne counted them +on her fingers. "John Adams was a Massachusetts man." + +"Phew!" and Bob's lips curled scornfully. "And the people were so sick +of him that they only let him stay in four years. They were glad enough +to get back to us. I am sure that I don't wonder. I don't see how they +could stand a New Englander." + +"I'm afraid that you'll have to," said Jeanne, wrathfully. "They are the +best people in the world. One of them is worth a dozen Southerners." + +"He isn't," blazed Bob. "He----" + +"Why, what does this mean?" cried a voice from without the tent. "Bob, +is that the way you treat a guest? I am surprised." + +"It's dad!" exclaimed Bob, rapidly untying the flap of the tent. "Come in." + +To Jeanne's surprise she saluted her father military fashion instead of +kissing him. The gentleman entered--a tall, black-haired, black-eyed man +of splendid military bearing and courtly mien. His eyes were twinkling, +but he spoke to his daughter in rather a stern tone. + +"Is this the way to entertain a guest, my child? I suppose that this is +the young lady that Johnson brought in last night." + +"Yes," answered Bob, in a shamefaced way. "She is a Yankee, and we were +quarreling. I don't know how it began. Do you?" to Jeanne. + +"No," answered Jeanne. "I don't." + +"I am ashamed of myself," said Bob, impulsively. "I ought to have +remembered that you were my guest. If you will forgive me this time I +won't do it any more." + +"I was wrong too," said Jeanne, humbly. "We'll forgive each other." + +Bob hesitated a moment and then leaned toward her. + +"There!" said the Colonel, as the girls kissed. "That's better. Leave it +to the men to settle the differences of the country. It is not pleasant +to see girls quarrel. Introduce the little lady to me, Bob." + +"Jeanne, this is my father, Colonel Peyton," said Bob. "Dad, this is +Jeanne Vance, from New York city. And she is a brave girl, if she is a +Yankee. You must get her to tell you all about her adventures." + +"I am sure that I shall be pleased to hear them," said the Colonel, +affecting not to notice Jeanne's start of surprise as she heard his name. +"Do you girls know that it is breakfast time?" + +"Mercy!" cried Bob. "Have the drums beaten the call? I did not hear them. +Did you ever! We've been two hours talking and--quarreling," she added, +in a lower tone. + +"Yes; there was a time when I thought that it would be coffee and pistols +for two," laughed the father. "Come, let us have breakfast. I will hear +the little lady's story while we eat." + +Jeanne looked about her with curious eyes as they emerged from the tent. +Everywhere there were tents that were arranged with military precision +back of a parade-ground which formed the front. First were the tents of +the men arranged by companies. Next after the tents of the men came those +of the commissioned officers of the companies. These faced on streets +which ran at right angles with the company streets. Still back of these +were the tents of the Colonel and his staff. The flag-staff at the edge +of the parade-ground, and immediately in front of the Colonel's tent, +sported a Confederate flag that waved gaily in the breeze. In the rear +of all were found the Quartermaster's and Sutler's departments. Dick had +often written about the soldiers doing their own cooking but here the +camp seemed filled with negroes who bustled about cooking and waiting +upon the soldiers as if they had been in their own dining-rooms. + +"We are here awaiting orders," said the Colonel, when Jeanne had told +him her story, "but we expect to leave soon for Jackson. There are a +number of Federals in that vicinity. It seems to me that your best plan +would be to remain with us until we reach Jackson where I will try to get +you to your own side. They will assist you to get home. That is where you +ought to be." + +"And where I wish to be," said Jeanne. "You are very kind, Colonel Peyton. +Kinder than my own people were, and yet you know that I am a Yankee." + +"I am treating you as I would wish my own daughter treated under like +circumstances," replied the Colonel gravely. "I don't war on girls, and +it seems to me that you have had rather a hard time of it. Well, we'll +get you out of it as soon as possible unless you and Bob destroy each +other in your quarrels." And he looked at them with a humorous twinkle +in his eye. + +"We won't quarrel any more," decided Bob. "We have had our say and we feel +better. Don't we, Jeanne?" + +"Ye-es," said Jeanne hesitatingly. "Only I didn't say all I wanted to." + +"Never mind," laughed Colonel Peyton. "I've no doubt but that you will +have the opportunity yet. Did Bob tell you how she came to be with me?" + +"No; how was it?" + +"I ran away," said Bob, her mouth full of chicken. "I have no mother. +Nobody but dad. So when the war broke out, and he went into it I made up +my mind that I would go too. Dad sold off our darkies and sent me to stay +with Aunt Betty in Mobile. I stood it just as long as I could, then I +took Jack, my horse, and struck out for dad. I found him finally, and +now I've been with him for six months. And I am going to stay too. Am I +not, dad?" + +"Until we get to Jackson," answered her father, regarding her fondly. +"Then I shall send you on to Vicksburg to stay with sister Sally. That +is the safest place in the Confederacy. Once there my mind will be easy +about you. A camp is no place for a girl." + +The breakfast was finished and Colonel Peyton was about to leave them when +he turned to Bob abruptly. + +"By the way," he said, "wasn't it Mr. Vance who bought Snowball?" + +"Yes; it was, dad. I wonder how Madame treats her! It seems to me that +I've heard some awful stories about the way she uses her darkies." + +"When she whips them she does whip dreadfully," said Jeanne. "But I only +know of once that she had Snowball whipped. And you are the Colonel Peyton +who bought her?" Then she told them of Tenny, Snowball's mother. + +"That was why you started when you heard my name, was it not?" asked the +Colonel. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I wondered just a little at the cause of it," remarked the officer as +he left them. "Now, girls, be good." + +"I don't want to go to Vicksburg a bit," confided Bob to Jeanne as they +reëntered the former's tent. "I just love soldiering. Besides I want to +be near dad. Suppose he should be wounded. He'd die if I was not right +there to look after him. I'm not going to say anything, but it will take +a regular guard to keep me with Aunt Sally." + +"But if he wishes it," said Jeanne to whom her father's lightest wish was +law. "You will have to stay then. He knows best." + +"It won't be best for me to be away from him," said Bob, rebelliously. +"I should imagine all sorts of things were happening to him." + +"Everybody who has a father or a brother in the army does that," said +Jeanne sadly as she thought of Dick. "But we have to stand it, Bob, +when the men and the boys will go to the war. I could not if I didn't +think it was right. If Dick should be killed----" her voice faltered a +little--"it would be a noble death. Admiral Farragut said that there was +no nobler one than to die for one's country, and I should try not to +grieve too much if he were to fall doing his duty." + +"I do wish you were a Southerner," said Bob impulsively. "You feel just +like we do about those things. But, Jeanne, what if your brother had +thought that we were right and had gone to our side? What would you do +then?" + +"Dick couldn't do that," cried Jeanne. "Why the place where he was born +and the way he was brought up would be against it. No; Dick couldn't be a +rebel." + +"That's what I thought about Frank," said Bob, with bitterness. "That's +one reason that I stick so close to dad. I have, or rather had, a brother +too, Jeanne. But he broke dad's heart and mine by going to fight with the +Yankees. Yet his place of birth and his raising were both against it. I +will never forgive him," and the tears rolled down her cheeks. "And dad +never will either." + +"But he is your brother," said Jeanne, pressing her hand. "If he thinks +he is right, even if he does differ with you, he is still your brother." + +"Never," cried Bob, dashing the tears from her eyes. "I have no brother. +Come, let's go to see the men drill." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE ARREST OF A SPY + + +Jeanne soon accustomed herself to the life of the camp, but she did not +grow fond of it as Bob was. By her gentle way and pleasant manners she +became quite a favorite with Colonel Peyton, but Bob reigned supreme in +the hearts of the men. She petted and scolded them as if they were her +brothers, and Jeanne wondered when she saw how the strong men submitted +to her least command. But the secret lay in the fact that the Southern +girl adored the soldiers and they knew it. + +"It's the smartest regiment in the whole Confederacy," declared Bob with +shining eyes to Jeanne one day. "I don't believe that there is another +like it in the world." + +"Dick's regiment is very gallant," said Jeanne, a trifle wistfully. "It +has been complimented publicly on account of its bravery." + +"Well, it can't beat the 'Die No Mores,'" said Bob. "The boys have been +specially good this week. Dad said last night that not a man had been +under arrest for five days. I always sing to them when that happens." + +"Do you sing, Bob?" + +"Yes; I have quite a good voice," said Bob in such a matter-of-fact way +that the other girl smiled. "Do you?" + +"A little," acknowledged Jeanne. "Father used to like to hear me." + +"Then we will give the boys a good time to-night. They like singing and +dad thinks it helps to keep them cheerful. They often sing themselves." + +"I have heard them in the evening, and I like it when they do not sing +rebel songs," said honest Jeanne. + +"Well, you can hardly expect them to sing any other, can you?" demanded +Bob. "I don't suppose that you do like it. I shouldn't want to hear the +Federal songs if I were in one of their camps. But the spirits of the men +must be kept up for we expect to meet the enemy soon." + +"Do you?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, Bob, do you think that I could go to my side?" + +"I don't know, Jeanne. Dad said, you know, that it would be best to go to +Jackson with us and then he would send you to the Federals. You wouldn't +be any nearer getting home with a party of skirmishers than you are with +us." + +"I suppose not," sighed Jeanne, "but it would be something to be with my +own people." + +"We'll see," replied Bob. "Although I don't like to have you leave, +Jeanne. It is a great deal nicer with you here. Dad likes it too, I know, +for he said to me yesterday: 'Barbara,' he always calls me Barbara when he +is serious, 'I like that little lady. You would please me if you would +model your manners after hers. You are a bit hoydenish in your ways, +and it grieves me. Fine manners are to a girl as the perfume is to a +flower.' I said, copy-book style: 'Honored and respected parent, after +having brought me up according to military regulations, don't you think it +is a little unjust to twit me with my manners? If they are lacking, blame +the code, not me.' And then I saluted, and retired, gracefully, I hope. At +any rate the shot told for I heard him laughing as I went out. Now, +Miss Vance, let me have a lesson. I suppose it's proper to begin with +prunes and prisms. There! do I say that right?" + +"Oh, Bob," cried Jeanne laughing as Bob perked up her mouth in a funny +little grimace. "What a girl you are!" + +"I hope you are well," went on Bob with a fine affectation of young +ladyism. "Beautiful weather we're having, aren't we? There! Do you think +dad will like that?" + +"I like you better your own natural self, and I think that he does too," +said Jeanne. "My ways don't suit you, Bob, and yours would not suit me. +But I am sure that you could have a fine manner without modeling after +me. I like you best just as you are." + +"So do I," said Bob, tucking her arm comfortably within Jeanne's. "And +so does dad but he doesn't know it. I don't want him to get too fond of +you." + +Night came and as usual the soldiers gathered around the fires to sing +songs and to tell stories. Presently Bob came among them to fulfill her +promise to sing to them. Jeanne accompanied her, and the Northern girl +wondered at the self-possession and ease with which the Colonel's daughter +stood before so many men and sang. But the Southern girl was so accustomed +to the soldiers that she thought nothing of it. Song after song she sang +responding with the utmost good nature to the repeated requests for +more. At last she cried: + +"Just one more, boys, and I must stop, for I am tired. What shall it be?" + +"The Bonnie Blue Flag," cried several voices. + +"Very well," and Bob began instantly: + + "'We are a band of brothers, and natives to the soil, + Fighting for the property we gained by honest toil; + And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far, + Hurrah for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star! + + * * * * * * * + + "'Then here's to our Confederacy; strong we are and brave; + Like patriots of old we'll fight our heritage to save; + And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer; + So cheer for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star. + + "'Then cheer, boys, cheer; raise the joyous shout, + For Arkansas and North Carolina now have both gone out; + And let another rousing cheer for Tennessee be given. + The single star of the bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be eleven.'" + +"Three cheers for the bonnie Blue Flag," called a voice and with a shout +the soldiers responded. + +"Now three for our beloved president, Jefferson Davis! And three for the +Confederacy!" The men responded lustily. + +"And three cheers and a tiger for Miss Bob, the child of the regiment," +shouted another enthusiastically. + +These had scarcely died away when some one called. "Why can't the 'Little +Yank' give us a song?" + +"Yes, yes; the 'Little Yank,'" came from all sides. + +For a moment Jeanne hesitated, and then she stepped forward into the +place which Bob had vacated. Her heart beat fast as she looked into the +expectant faces before her. + +"I will sing of a flag too," she said in clear thrilling tones. With a +quick motion she drew the stars and stripes from her bosom and shaking +out its folds began earnestly: + + "'Oh! say can you see by the dawn's early light, + What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming, + Whose stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight, + O'er the ramparts we watch'd were so gallantly streaming; + And the rockets, red glare, the bombs bursting in air, + Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there!'" + +For a few moments every one was still amazed at the girl's audacity, but +as the last strain of the first stanza came from her lips a hoarse, angry +murmur went up from the soldiers, and there was a movement toward her. +But Jeanne heeded it not and in triumphant tones began the chorus: + + "'Oh! say, does that star spangled banner yet wave, + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!'" + +"Chuck that!" growled one of the men. + +"Stow it, or it will be the worst for you," called another. + +"You asked me to sing," said the girl undauntedly. "And I will choose my +own song." + +"She is right," and Colonel Peyton pushed his way to her side. "You asked +her, boys, and she can sing what she chooses. Take your medicine like men." + +Sullenly the soldiers settled back into their places while Jeanne +courageously finished her song. + +"It wasn't right," said Bob angrily as Jeanne joined her. "You didn't +treat the boys right. If dad hadn't been there they wouldn't have stood +it." + +"If they don't want to hear such things they must not ask me to sing," +cried Jeanne, her eyes blazing. "I am compelled to hear treason every day." + +"You don't need to stay here," flashed Bob. + +"I am sure that I don't want to," answered Jeanne. "I want to go to my +own people and I will go to-morrow if your father will let me. I don't +stay because I want to." + +"Well, you needn't be so glad to be rid of us," and the tears welled up +into Bob's eyes. "I am sure that we are good to you." + +"Yes; you are," and Jeanne went to her quickly. "I shall be sorry to leave +you, Bob, but I do want to see my father and my mother. It has been so +long, so long." She turned away to hide her tears. + +"Yes, it has;" and Bob put her arm within Jeanne's affectionately. "I am +sure that I don't blame you for wanting to see them. I don't know why I +say such mean things, Jeanne. I wish we didn't quarrel." + +"Maybe we can't help it," answered Jeanne, pressing her arm. + +"No; I suppose you can't help being a Yankee," said Bob, so dolefully that +Jeanne laughed. + +"I don't want to," she said. "I am not sorry that you are a Southerner, +but I wish you were for the Union." + +"Well, I don't, and so there we are! I suppose that there is just one +thing to do," and Bob nodded her head sagely, "and that is not to quarrel +any more than we can help. When we do we'll make up, won't we?" + +"Yes," answered Jeanne. "We will." + +Once more the two were friends, and thus the days passed. October waned +and soon rested with the other months of the dying year, and chill +November reigned supreme. Still the order to move did not come. There +was an uneasiness in the Colonel's manner as his scouts brought in news +each day that the country surrounding Jackson was filling up with Federals. + +One morning a number of the companies of the regiment left the camp, and +Bob confided to Jeanne the news that they expected to be in an engagement +before they returned. + +Jeanne, thrilled by the intelligence that she was so near to her own +people, sat thoughtfully in front of the tent devoted to the use of the +girls. + +"Would it not be possible," she wondered, "for me to join them? These +people are kind and good, but would it not be much better for me to be +with those of my own side? If I were with them they could send me to some +place where it would be safe for me to take the cars for home. Father and +mother must be so worried. I will see Colonel Peyton and ask him what +he thinks of it," she cried, springing to her feet. + +She hastened toward the tent of the commander, reaching it at the same +time as a number of soldiers did. A man was in their midst who, although +he wore a suit of butternut, seemed to be a prisoner. Jeanne paused as +the men stopped directly in front of her, and gave a cry of amazement at +sight of the man. + +"You," she cried, in agitated tones. "Oh, I thought that you were on our +side!" + +A loud burst of laughter came from the soldiers, and the prisoner became +very pale. + +"I reckon the 'Little Yank' has called your death sentence, pardner," said +one of the Confederates, roughly. "That shows that you are a spy all right +enough." + +"A spy," cried Jeanne, a light flooding her mind. "Oh, what have I done? +What have I done?" + +"Do not grieve," said the young man, who was none other than the officer +whom she had aided in Memphis. "They strongly suspected it any way, and +were taking me to their Commanding officer for examination." + +"There doesn't need to be much examination," said a Confederate, bluntly. +"Colonel Peyton will make short work of you." + +"Whom did you say?" cried the young man in such agonized tones that all +turned to look at him. + +"Colonel Peyton," was the reply. "Here he is now." + +"What does this mean, boys?" asked Colonel Peyton, appearing in the door +of his tent. "What is the disturbance?" + +"A feller that we caught sneaking round the camp," answered the leader, +gruffly. "He claims to be a Southerner, and I reckon he is one all right, +but his actions are decidedly suspicious. We were bringing him to you +when this girl recognized him, and called the turn on him as belonging to +the Federals." + +"He is that worst of men, a Southerner who has turned against the State +that gave him birth and who takes up arms against her," said the Colonel +sternly, yet with emotion. "I know him, men, personally. He is an officer +in the Federal army. If he was prowling about here in those clothes he +is without doubt a spy. Unhappy man," he continued, turning to the +prisoner, "what have you to say for yourself?" + +"Nothing," and the young fellow bowed his head upon his breast. + +"You know the penalty of being caught as a spy," went on the pitiless +voice of the Colonel. "A spy is one of the most dishonorable of men, and +deserves any death given him. We have not much time for such. You die +at sunrise. Take him, men, and guard him well. I believe him to be a +dangerous man." + +He turned back into his tent, and the soldiers started away with him, when +Jeanne darted to the young man's side, and caught his hand between her own. + +"Forgive me," she sobbed. "I did not know what I was doing. Forgive me." + +"Never mind, child," said the young officer, drearily. "It would have +happened any way. He knew me. I would rather have died in battle, but +after all I have been doing my duty. It is not death I fear, but----" + +"But what?" asked Jeanne, as he paused. + +"It breaks my heart to be condemned to death by my own father," came the +agonized reply. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A SURPRISE AND AN ESCAPE + + +"Your father?" cried Jeanne, in amazement. "Is Colonel Peyton your father?" + +The young man bowed in assent. + +"And he condemns you to death?" went on the girl, a horrified expression +on her face. "How could he do such a thing? Oh, how could he?" + +"By George," broke from one of the Confederates. "This is a pretty mess! +Boys, the old man has sentenced his own son to death as a spy." + +The soldiers crowded about the prisoner. Jeanne drew close to him and laid +her hand pityingly upon his arm. + +"I will tell Bob," she said. "Perhaps she can persuade your father not to +do this monstrous thing." + +"Bob! Is Bob here?" The Lieutenant looked up eagerly and then shook his +head. "No," he said, "she must not know. It would break her heart. After +all what has he done but what is just? Had it been any other Federal we +would commend him for doing his duty. He could not do other than he has +done. But say nothing to Bob. Add this to your other kindness, Miss +Jeanne. And, as this will probably be the last opportunity I shall ever +have, let me thank you also for sending me to your home." + +"Then you really went there," cried Jeanne. "You saw my father and my +mother? How did they look? Were they well? When did you leave them? Oh, +Lieutenant Peyton, do tell me all about them." + +"They are all well, or were when I left them which was two months ago. +They were as kind to me as if I had been their own son. I shall never +forget them. But they were worried because they had not heard from you. +After you left Memphis no word came to them. Child, why do you treat such +parents so? Why are you here in place of being at home? It is wrong to +subject them to so much uneasiness. They cannot think what has happened to +you?" + +"But I have written," cried Jeanne, tearfully. "And I want to get home. I +don't want to stay here one bit. I want----" + +"Men, why do you dally here with your prisoner?" came in stern tones from +Colonel Peyton who had approached the group unobserved. "I desire that +no further communication be allowed between this man and that girl. Are +they not both Federals?" + +"Being as he was your son, Colonel," said the leader, saluting, "we +thought----" + +"Your business is to obey orders, not to think," interrupted the officer +brusquely. "He is no son of mine. My son died to me long ago." + +"Dad," cried the cheery voice of Bob as she came toward him. "They say +that you have caught a spy. Where is he? Why----" Her gaze fell upon the +prisoner and she stopped short. "Frank," she cried, shrilly, "it's Frank! +Oh, dad, what does it mean?" + +"It means," said the Colonel, trying to draw her away, "that you have no +brother, Bob. This man is nothing to you. He is a spy and as such dies +at sunrise." + +"At sunrise!" shrieked Bob. "No, no!" + +"Away with that fellow," ordered the Colonel, harshly. "And mind! I shall +hold each one of you personally responsible for his safety. Bob," as the +soldiers bore his son away, "you are under arrest. Go to your quarters and +stay there until I release you. And you also," to Jeanne. + +"You have no right to arrest me, Colonel Peyton," said Jeanne coldly. "I +refuse to obey any man who sentences his own son to death." + +"You refuse to obey me?" cried the Colonel, loth to believe his ears. "Me?" + +"Yes, sir, you. I do not consider myself under arrest. You have no right +to put me there. I am neither your daughter nor your slave," and Jeanne +put her arm around Bob and faced him defiantly. + +"There are ways of enforcing obedience, young lady," said the Colonel. +"Bob, to your quarters." + +"But, dad,----" + +"To your quarters," commanded her father sternly. "Johnson," to a soldier, +"see that these girls are well-guarded until I give other orders." + +And so it came about that a guard was placed about their tent and the +girls found themselves as closely watched as if they were indeed +prisoners. In the afternoon as they sat disconsolately together a +confusion without told that something unusual was going on. Jeanne went to +the aperture in the front of the tent and looked out. + +"What is it?" she asked of the sentry. + +"Our men coming back," was the answer. "They have a number of prisoners +and have captured some fine horses." + +Jeanne reported the news to Bob, but she received it apathetically. So +overcome by grief was she that she appeared to no longer care for anything. + +"Bob," said Jeanne suddenly, "can't we do something to help your brother?" + +"I am afraid not," answered Bob in heartbroken accents. "What can we do? +We are only girls. What can we do?" + +"Well, we can make an effort. I will never forgive myself if I don't do +something for him." + +"Why should you care?" asked Bob listlessly. "He is not your brother." + +"No, Bob, he isn't. But he is one of our officers, and I intend to help +him get away. It would be an awful thing for him to die by the hand of +his father." + +"What are you going to do?" asked Bob looking at her with a gleam of +interest. + +"I don't know. I have been thinking all day and I don't know," said +Jeanne. "But we must do something. I did not think that your father could +be so cruel." + +"He is doing his duty," said Bob with pale lips. "Poor dad! Jeanne, you +think him hard-hearted, but I know that this will kill him. Poor, poor +dad!" + +"Then if he cares why does he condemn his son to death?" asked Jeanne in +surprise. + +"Because he came here as a spy, and dad could not overlook that fact +even if he is his son. Dad must regard Frank as a Federal, Jeanne. He is +bound to as a Confederate officer." + +"But you are not bound. Surely you are not going to let your brother die +without trying to save him?" + +"Dad will never forgive me," said Bob weakly. "And yet I can't let Frank +die." + +"Of course not," answered Jeanne. "Now, Bob, let's think hard. Maybe +between us we can get some plan." + +But the time passed, and darkness found them still with no plan matured. + +"We will save our rations," said Bob as their supper was handed in to +them. "Frank ought to have them to take with him if he succeeds in +escaping. If he doesn't we won't care to eat." + +So they carefully put up the food into a small package, and again fell +to discussing ways and means for the escape of Lieutenant Peyton. + +"Bob," exclaimed Jeanne presently, "do you know that I have not heard the +guard patrol our tent for a long time?" + +Bob listened intently, and then sprang to her feet. + +"It's true," she exclaimed excitedly. "I wonder what the reason is?" + +They ran to the door of the tent and peered out cautiously. There seemed +to be a commotion of some kind in camp. Men were hurrying to and fro; +bayonets rattled, and the subdued murmur of many voices plainly told that +an unusual movement was on foot. The girls looked on breathlessly and +presently they heard the order given for the men to fall in line. Then +"Forward, March!" came the command and the ranks filed out of the camp +on the double quick, the Colonel at their head. + +"Something's up," said Bob with conviction. "Let's go down to where the +prisoners are, Jeanne, and see how the land lies. Then maybe we will know +what to do." + +Silently Jeanne signified her assent and the two stole quietly through +the long rows of tents to where the prisoners were. + +"There is but one guard," whispered Bob in delight. "See, Jeanne! Frank +lies the closest to the fire. He is bound too, hand and foot." + +"I see," whispered Jeanne. "Let's get closer, Bob." + +Cautiously they approached nearer to the men. Presently Jeanne uttered +an exclamation and stopped stock still. + +"What is it?" asked Bob quickly. "Did you hurt yourself?" + +"Bob," whispered Jeanne in great agitation, "do you see that young fellow +just beyond Frank? The one with the yellow hair, I mean." + +"Yes, Jeanne. Why?" + +"That is my brother Dick. They shan't have Dick, Bob. Not if I had to face +the whole Confederate army myself." + +"Jeanne, is it truly Dick? Aren't you mistaken? Maybe it's only some one +who looks like him." + +"It's Dick," said Jeanne positively. "Watch him. He will know my voice." +Regardless of caution she began singing softly the then popular melody: + + "'Will you come with me, my Phillis dear, + To yon blue mountain free, + Where the blossoms smell the sweetest, + Come rove along with me. + It's every Sunday morning, + When I am by your side, + We'll jump into the wagon, + And all take a ride.'" + +Bob watched the young fellow as Jeanne's voice floated out upon the night +air. The boy, he was scarcely more than that, raised himself to a sitting +posture instantly, a blank look of amazement upon his face. + +"Miss Bob," came from the guard, "it's against orders for either you or +the 'Little Yank' to be about the prisoners. I'm mighty sorry, but you'll +have to go." + +"Johnson," said Bob coaxingly, "haven't I always been good to you?" + +"Yes, Miss Bob." + +"Who looked after you when you were wounded, and cooked for you, and wrote +your letters to your wife?" + +"Miss Bob, for goodness sake don't tell me any of those things now. The +Colonel's away, and there are just a few of us left to guard the prisoners +and the camp. 'Tain't right, Miss Bob." + +"You said that there was nothing that you would not do for me," went on +Bob inexorably. + +"And I meant it," said the poor fellow. "I know what you mean. I know +that's your brother. But you must not ask it of me. Please, Miss Bob." + +"I'm only going to ask you to turn your back for ten minutes," said Bob. + +"And his knife," whispered Jeanne tremblingly. "Get his knife, Bob." + +"Turn your back for ten minutes," repeated Bob, "and lend me your knife." + +"For the love of mercy, Miss Bob," pleaded Johnson, "don't ask this of +me. It means worse than death to me. It is a betrayal of trust." + +"Your knife, Johnson," and Bob held out her hand. "What would your wife +think of your refusing me anything?" + +"Take it," said the man with the resignation of despair. "The Colonel will +have me shot like a dog, but take it. I cannot refuse." + +He handed her the knife and then turned his back full upon the prisoners. + +"Quick," whispered Jeanne. "Cut your brother's bonds first, and then let +me have the knife." + +She ran to her brother's side as she spoke and threw her arms about him. + +"Dick, Dick," she said kissing him repeatedly. "I am going to cut the +cords that bind you. Then you must run for your life." + +"Jeanne," came the amazed voice of the lad, "how in the name of all that's +wonderful, did you come here?" + +"I am well and happy," cried Jeanne hurriedly. "I cannot tell you more +now, but I am going home soon. Don't mind about me. Bob, hurry, hurry, +before Johnson turns." + +"There!" said Bob flinging her the knife. Rising to her feet triumphantly +she called to her friend. "Be quick, Jeanne! Johnson is looking at his +watch." + +"Run, boys," panted Jeanne as the keen edge of the blade severed the cord +that bound her brother's feet. "If you value your lives, run like the +wind." + +Frank Peyton needed no second bidding. He was off but Dick Vance hesitated +as he glanced at his sister. + +"She is safe," cried Bob, reading his glance aright. "I will answer for +her with my life. Go! Go! Don't look yet, Johnson. One minute more in +pity!" + +"No;" and Johnson wheeled round. "Your brother is gone, but not another +prisoner goes. I am not beholden to any Federal." He swung his gun to his +shoulder just as Dick darted away. + +With a scream of terror Jeanne threw herself upon him while Bob caught +hold of the musket. + +"It's my brother," shrieked Jeanne. "You must not, you shall not shoot!" + +"Well, I'll be switched," growled Johnson in disgusted tones. "Does the +whole Federal army happen to be related to you two girls? This is a pretty +affair! But that Yank doesn't get away if the Colonel's son does." + +Shaking himself free from their clinging hands he fired two shots in the +direction that Dick Vance had taken. As other men came running up they +gave chase to the fugitives. + +"They dare not follow far," comforted Bob, as Jeanne gave vent to a flood +of tears. "They won't dare to leave the camp long." + +"Come then," and Jeanne dashed away her tears as an idea flashed into her +mind. "Let's call them back." + +She took Bob's hand and ran with her to another part of the camp. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +DICK TO THE FORE + + +Jeanne uttered an exclamation of joy as she stumbled upon a musket that +for some reason had been thrown aside. + +"This is the very thing," she cried. + +"What are you going to do?" asked Bob. + +"I am going to make the guards think that we are attacked," answered +Jeanne, swinging the gun to her shoulder as she had seen the men do. +Before the other could stop her she had pulled the trigger. There was +a flash followed by a loud report, and with a groan Jeanne fell prone +upon the earth. + +"Jeanne," shrieked Bob, falling beside her. "Jeanne, are you hurt? Oh, +she's shot! She's shot!" + +"Miss Bob! Miss Bob, where are you?" shouted the voices of the soldiers, +and a number of those who had been left to guard the camp ran hither and +thither in confusion. + +"To arms!" came the hoarse command of an officer. "We are attacked." + +"Here! Oh, come here!" called Bob as Jeanne lay groaning upon the ground. +"Captain Dallas, come here!" + +In a few moments the soldiers were about them. Captain Dallas raised the +fallen girl carefully. + +"Where are you hurt?" he asked gently. "Which way did the shot come?" + +"It was the gun," moaned Jeanne, feebly finding herself able to talk. "It +went off at the wrong end." + +"Well, by George," cried the Captain bursting into a laugh, "we're nicely +fooled, boys. The girl isn't shot. She fired the gun herself. The musket +kicked. That's all. Now you girls go to bed," he ordered sternly, "and +let's have no more nonsense." + +"But Dick," said Jeanne, getting upon her feet. "You haven't caught Dick, +have you?" + +"If you mean the fellow that left with the Colonel's son, no," answered +the Captain. "We can't spare the men to give chase, but there will be +a reckoning for somebody when Colonel Peyton gets back. Now go to bed. +You'll let us keep the rest of our prisoners, I reckon," he added with +sarcasm. + +"Oh, yes," said Bob, laughing a little hysterically. "It was just our +brothers that we were after." + +"Better go to the surgeon and get something for that shoulder," called +the Captain as they started off. "It's liable to be pretty lame for a few +days." + +Bob profited by his advice and sought the surgeon who gave her some +liniment to rub on it, but the morning found it still so lame that Jeanne +retained her bed. + +On the morning of the third day the Colonel and his men returned, worn +and jaded looking. There were no prisoners, and from the spiritless +condition of the soldiers it looked as though they had been on a fruitless +enterprise. + +"And if that is the case," remarked Bob to Jeanne, "dad will be in an +awful humor, and we'll catch it." + +It was afternoon before Colonel Peyton sought their presence. Bob's face +blanched as her father entered the tent, but Jeanne, strong in the belief +that Dick was safe, faced him boldly. + +"I want to hear the whole of this affair," said Colonel Peyton quietly +ignoring his daughter's greeting. "Barbara, tell me just what happened." + +Briefly Bob related the facts of the night's occurrence. Her father +listened attentively. + +"And you threw up to Johnson the benefits conferred upon him," he said +as Bob finished her narrative. "I would not have believed it of you, +Barbara. Johnson has been court-martialed and sentenced to the guard +house for one month. The officers were merciful because that unhappy +boy was my son. But I cannot risk a second offense of this nature. +Hereafter, you will occupy quarters next to my own. I did not dream +that my daughter would so far forget what was due to herself as to aid +in the escape of the enemies of her country. I cannot but think it +owing to the companionship of the past few weeks. That you may not be +influenced further I forbid you to have any further communication with +this girl. As for you," turning to Jeanne and speaking sternly, "as I have +passed my word to you that you shall be sent to the Federal lines it +shall be done. We leave for Jackson to-morrow. At the first opportunity +I will send you to your people. Meantime, may I ask that you refrain +from any intercourse whatever with my daughter? It is the smallest +return that you can make, in view of your conduct of the last few days." + +"I have no desire to do other than you wish, Colonel Peyton," said Jeanne +proudly. "I am not sorry for anything I have done. Were it to do over, I +would not hesitate for a moment to do anything I could to restore either +my brother or your son to liberty. I am very sorry if my conduct has not +pleased you. I should think that you would be glad to be saved from being +the slayer of your son." + +"We will not discuss the matter," said the Colonel coldly. "Come, +Barbara, I will take you to your quarters, and under pain of my severest +displeasure, I expect that you will have no more to say to this young +person." + +Bob gave Jeanne a long sad look, and then silently gathering up her +belongings, left the tent. + +And now began a dreary time for Jeanne. Cold looks greeted her on every +side. The old, pleasant, cheery companionship with Bob was no more. She +missed even the tiffs they had had, and longed with a passionate yearning +for home and friends. The march to Jackson would have been a pleasant one +as it led through the autumn woods which shone through a silvery mist +amid spicy breezes which blew cool and keen from the heart of the pines, +had it not been for the manner in which she was treated. + +No one paid the least attention to her comings and goings. Indeed it +seemed to her that Colonel Peyton would gladly welcome the fact of her +disappearance, and so she grew into the habit of riding a little apart +from the others and sometimes of loitering considerably in the rear of the +cavalcade. It had been the original intention that she go in the wagon +with Bob, but under the altered conditions a horse had been given her +while Bob rode in front with her father. + +The afternoon of the second day out Jeanne dropped behind the regiment, +for she was very tired, intending to wait for the wagons and to ask the +drivers to let her rest for a while in one of them. A bend of the road +hid the regiment from view. The wagons were far in the rear and for the +time she was alone. + +"Jeanne," came her name in low tones from the underbrush at the side of +the road. + +Jeanne drew rein quickly and looked wonderingly about her. She saw nothing +and thinking that she had imagined the call, she started to go on, when +it came again. + +"Jeanne! Jeanne! Wait a moment." + +Pale and trembling the girl stopped, and then to her astonishment Dick +came breathlessly though the undergrowth. + +"Dick!" she cried. "Oh, Dick!" + +"I have waited and watched for this chance ever since I left the camp," +cried the lad. "Come with me, Jeanne. You have no business with these +rebels." + +"But Colonel Peyton----" began Jeanne. + +"Come," cried Dick seizing the bridle of her horse. "I do not understand +why you are here, but it is no place for you. I will take you home." + +"Will you, Dick?" asked the girl joyfully, preparing to dismount. + +"Don't get off the horse. We will need him. I don't know just where our +men are, and we may have a long distance to go." + +"But he is not ours," objected Jeanne, whose residence among soldiers had +not been long enough to render her conscience elastic on this point. + +"Yes, he is," answered Dick. "The Government confiscated all the property +belonging to the Johnnies long ago, and I guess this horse comes under +that act. I am only doing my duty in taking the animal." + +"Do you think so?" asked Jeanne, dubiously. + +"Certainly, I do," and the lad led the horse away from the road into the +thicket. "I thought I was going to have lots of trouble to get you away +from those people," he said, when they were a safe distance. + +"They don't care anything about me," said the girl, sadly. "O Dick, I've +had such a time!" + +"There! There!" Dick drew her head against his shoulder caressingly. +"It's all over now. I'll take care of you. But tell me, Jeanne, how in +the world did you come down here in this benighted country? I left you +safe at home in New York and find you here. How did it happen?" + +"I thought that perhaps father had written," and Jeanne looked up through +her tears. + +"No; I have not heard from the folks for quite a while, but we have been +on the march, and I was taken prisoner. I know that there are letters for +me somewhere." + +"Then I will begin at the beginning," said Jeanne, stroking his hair +tenderly. "Oh, Dick, it is so good to be with some one who belongs to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +RECAPTURE + + +"We must not stay here, Jeanne," said Dick, after his sister had finished +her narrative. "We must strike out for the Mississippi River. Once there +we may see some of our boats. That will be our best show for getting to +our lines." + +"Is it far to the river, Dick?" + +"I don't know, Jeanne. If I felt sure that Colonel Peyton would send you +to our men, I would let you go on with him, but after the treatment given +you, I don't like to let you go back." + +"No; let me stay with you, Dick. I feel as if I never wanted to see a +rebel again." + +"You are liable to see a good many of them before we are out of this," +remarked Dick. "The woods are full of them. I fear----" + +"What?" asked Jeanne, as the lad paused. + +"For you, sister. It will be a long, hard journey. I wish I had known +just how matters stood and I would have left you where you were. You +have shown yourself a brave girl, and it will take all your courage and +resolution now to stand up under the perils we will have to encounter. I +wish we had some money. The Johnnies aren't averse to taking our money +for all their devotion to their cause. It would help us wonderfully." + +"See here, Dick!" Jeanne took a roll of bills from her dress. "Will this +be enough?" + +"Where did you get it?" cried Dick in delight. "Why, this is fine!" + +"Father gave it to me just before I left," answered Jeanne. "He little +thought that it would help us both to get back to him. I know Aunt +Clarisse would have taken it if she had remembered telling me to hide it." + +"Father will have a settling with Uncle Ben and his wife," cried the boy, +his eyes flashing. "I'd just like to meet the lady myself. I don't think +she'd like what she would hear!" + +"I know it," and the girl looked at him admiringly. "I just feel as if my +troubles were all over. What a soldier you are, Dick!" + +"You are a pretty good one yourself," answered Dick. "I had no idea, +Jeanne, that you could stand fire as you did on that transport. Why, I +have known big men to be afraid in a battle." + +"It's the blood," observed the girl, sagely. "How could we be other than +brave, when our ancestors fought in the Revolution? We just can't help it." + +Dick laughed. + +"Ancestors don't seem to help some fellows I know," he said. "You'd be +surprised at some of the things they do. They play sick, fall in behind +the rest of us, or do anything in the world to get out of the way of +the bullets. The queer part of the whole thing is that those who expose +themselves the most rarely get hurt while the shots seek the cowards." + +Thus conversing the two pursued their journey. Darkness came on, and Dick +proposed a halt and rest for the night. + +"There are so many swamps," he said, "and so many of those things they +call bayous that I like to see where I am going. You won't be afraid to +stay out all night, will you? There isn't a house in sight, and it might +not be safe for us to go to it if there were." + +"I am not afraid with you, Dick. But it does look rather ghost-like, +doesn't it, with all that moss hanging from the trees?" + +"Yes; the forest is not so fine as our own Adirondacks. I don't like this +country anyway. There are cypress swamps and malaria every time you turn +round. Malaria has killed more of the boys than all the shots the rebs +ever fired. You won't get sick, will you?" + +"I stood New Orleans in the summertime," said the girl, "and they said +down there that anybody who could live there through the summer could live +anywhere. But you have not told me how you came to be down here." + +"Our regiment was sent to Corinth," answered Dick. "With a few others +I was taken prisoner during the battle there. General Van Dorn sent us to +Jackson, and from there we were to be taken by rail to Richmond, Virginia. +For some reason the orders were changed, and we were marched on foot to +your camp. What they intended to do with us is more than I know. I tell +you, I was glad to be free again." + +"You are so pale," said Jeanne, touching him gently. "Are you well, Dick?" + +"Fine! Just need a good square meal to set me up all right," answered +the boy cheerily. "I haven't had very much to eat since you girls set me +free. Just what I could find in the woods. Herbs and wild grapes, and +persimmons. I eat the green ones mostly." + +"But why?" asked Jeanne mystified. "The ripe ones are ever so much better. +I like them now, although I didn't at first." + +"The green ones are best if you don't have much to eat," rejoined Dick. +"They are fine to draw the stomach up to fit the supply. Say, Jeanne, +don't you wish we had some of mother's doughnuts?" + +"You poor, poor boy," cried Jeanne laughing, but there were tears in her +eyes. "I wish we were where we could get them. Will the war last much +longer, Dick?" + +"I am afraid so," was the lad's reply. "The rebs have played the mischief +this fall, and it looks as if all our work had to be done over again. Now, +Jeanne, you go to sleep, or you won't be fit to travel to-morrow." + +"And what will you do?" + +"Watch while you sleep. Never mind me. I am used to it. I have often stood +guard, and can do it just as well as not." + +"I don't believe that anything will bother us, brother. I wish you would +sleep too." + +"No," said Dick sturdily, "not now." + +Jeanne tried to obey him but sleep would not come to her. The dark pines +were on all sides of them. The owls hooted dismally, and the chill wind +sobbed and moaned fitfully in the pine trees. Presently Dick stooped over +her. + +"Are you cold, Jeanne?" + +"Yes, Dick. And I can't sleep a bit. Can't we talk, or walk, or do +something?" + +"We will walk," decided Dick. "I think that the horse must be rested by +this time. What is his name?" + +"Robert E. Lee," answered Jeanne in a hesitating tone fearing that Dick +might not like the animal to be so called. "Bob called him 'Rel' for +short, and so do I because I don't like the full name." + +"Lee is a fine general," commented Dick. "If we had had him on our side +to begin with, the war would have been over by this time. I hope the horse +is worthy of his name. Take my hand, Jeanne, and we will start." + +Throwing the rein over his shoulder Dick guided himself by the stars +and the brother and sister again took up their journey to the westward. +Slowly they proceeded, stopping occasionally to rest and picking their +way carefully through the forest. At last, just at the break of day, +they came to a clearing in the woods in which stood a cabin. The blue +smoke curled invitingly from the chimney, and in the open door stood a +venerable darky. + +"It's darkies," cried Dick joyfully. "They will give us something to eat." + +They hurried forward. The old man stared at them as they approached him. + +"Could you give us some breakfast, sir?" asked Dick. "We are willing to +pay well for it. We are Unionists." + +"'Meriky," called the old man excitedly, "hyar's two ob Massa Linkum's +folks wantin' sumthing ter eat. Yes, suh; kum in, suh. We'll gib yer what +we've got. Kum in!" + +Gladly they entered. A bright looking colored woman surrounded by half a +dozen pickaninnies of all ages and sizes from two to fifteen was busily +preparing the morning meal. She bustled forward bowing and courtesying +as they entered. + +"Kum in an' welcome," she said. "Lawsie, you is one ob Massa Linkum's +sojers sho' nuff. Hain't neber seed one befo'. We all jest lubs Fadder +Abraham, suh." + +"And the horse?" said Dick suggestively. + +"Dat's all right, suh. Hyar, Geo'ge Washington! Done yer see de gem'man's +hoss a stan'ing dere? Gib him sum fodder." + +With homely but cheerful hospitality they pressed the viands upon them. +It seemed to Jeanne that nothing had ever tasted so good before, and +she could not but gaze in wonder at the quantity of hominy, molasses, +cornbread and rye coffee that Dick managed to stow away. + +"What would it have been if he hadn't eaten the green persimmons," she +wondered. + +"You all is a moughty long ways from your lines," remarked the old man +as Dick told them that he been taken prisoner and was making his escape. +"Dere's sojers all 'bout in dese hyar woods. 'Clar ter goodness I done +see how yer gwine ter git away from 'em." + +"We'll manage," said Dick hopefully. He felt now that he could face all of +Van Dorn's brigade. "Take this, my friend, and tell us the best road to +reach the Mississippi River." + +"Thankky kindly, massa," said the old darky, taking the dollar bill that +Dick gave him with the eagerness of a child. "See hyar, 'Meriky, it's +Linkum money. Good Linkum money!" + +"Sho' nuff it am," cried 'Merica examining it. "Thankky, suh; and you too, +missy. Ef yer eber sees Massa Linkum tell him how we all lubs him, an' +dat we am a lookin' fohwa'd ter resting in his bosom." + +"I will," said Jeanne with quick courtesy as a suspicious sound came from +Dick's direction. "Perhaps some day you will see him for yourself." + +"De Lohd grant it," came from the negroes fervently. "De good buk done +promised dat we shall lie in Fadder Abraham's bosom, an' we knows we will. +Tell him we's 'spectin' it suah ter kum ter pass." + +"Though how Lincoln is going to take them all into his bosom passes my +comprehension," was Dick's laughing comment as they went on their way. + +"I think that he has done it already, Dick," said the girl with truer +insight than the boy. "They know it too, poor souls! I hope that they +will get to see him. I think if I were a negro I would walk all the way +to Washington to do it." + +They were fortunate enough to obtain some ears of corn from the home of +a poor white, the woman being so suspicious of them that she would not +permit them to enter her house. She gladly however took the money they +offered and gave them the corn. + +To all inquiries concerning the Mississippi River they were told that if +they kept on in the same direction that they were going they would reach +it in time. + +"All of which is very specific," growled Dick as he threw himself under +a tree and declared a halt. "I wonder if any of them ever saw the river in +their lives." + +"I don't believe that they have," said Jeanne. "I found out in New Orleans +that these people that they call 'poor whites' are very ignorant. But +we'll reach it some way, Dick." + +"Yes; I begin to think that we will," said Dick complacently. "I wish that +I had a Confederate uniform though. These clothes are rather conspicuous." + +"Dick," cried Jeanne in horrified tones, "you would not wear that uniform +for a minute, would you?" + +"Wouldn't I?" chuckled Dick. "I wish I had a chance to try. Then we would +not have to skulk along this way but would go boldly to the nearest town +and board a train, and there we'd be!" + +"I would not wear one," declared Jeanne. + +"It wouldn't change my principles," said Dick. "The clothes don't make +the man only in the eyes of other people, and that is what we want now. I +would be just as true a Unionist as I am now, and it would be much safer +for us both. A uniform and a gun are just what I need. I am going to get +them!" + +He rose determinedly as he spoke and helped Jeanne on the horse. + +"Get on too, Dick," she pleaded. "You have walked all the time and your +shoes are in tatters. Please get up too." + +To please her Dick climbed up before her, and they started off at a brisk +pace. Suddenly from a bend in the road before them a body of rebel cavalry +cantered into view. Jeanne tittered a cry of alarm but Dick setting his +teeth made a quick dash into the woods. + +The rebels had seen them, however, and giving vent to their terrible yell, +they dashed in pursuit. + +"Surrender," cried the leader as they drew near the hapless pair. +"Surrender!" + +"Never!" cried Dick, furiously urging his horse to greater speed. A shower +of bullets fell about them. The horse stumbled and then swayed heavily. +Dick leaped from the animal's back and swung Jeanne to the ground just +as the poor brute fell. Throwing his arms about his sister the boy faced +the men defiantly. + +"You are our prisoner, Yank," yelled the leader as they surrounded them. + +"My sister," came from the lad's lips. His face was very pale and a +despairing look came into his eyes. He tottered and fell as he spoke. + +"Dick!" shrieked Jeanne, frantically flinging herself beside him. "Dick, +Dick!" + +"Wounded," was the terse remark of the Captain as he made a brief +examination. "By George, but he showed pluck to face us as he did! Look +here, boys." + +Turning back the lad's shirt he showed a gaping wound in his chest. With a +cry of agony at the sight, the world turned dark to Jeanne, and she fell +prostrate across the form of her brother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +VICKSBURG + + +When Jeanne recovered consciousness she knew by the rumbling and roaring +that she was on board a train. The riding was very rough, and hardly +realizing where she was she began to feel about her for the cushions, +weakly wondering where the lights were. It came to her with a sudden +shock as her fingers touched nothing but wood that she was lying prone +upon the floor of some sort of a car with not even a blanket under her. + +The knowledge brought back the full remembrance of what had happened, and +she sat up quickly and tried to peer about her. + +"Dick," she called. "Dick!" + +A low moan was the answer. Guided by the sound Jeanne groped her way in +its direction, and soon came in contact with the prostrate form of the boy. + +"Dick," she cried again. "Dick, is it you?" + +"Jeanne," came the reply, in weak tones, "are you safe? I called but you +did not answer. I did not know you were here. What has happened? Were you +asleep?" + +"I think I must have fainted, Dick," answered Jeanne, as steadily as she +could, for the thought of Dick's wound sickened her, and she was still +weak from her swoon. "But I am all right. How do you feel, brother? Are +you suffering much pain?" + +"It is terrible," groaned the boy. "It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for +the jolting." + +"It must be dreadful," said Jeanne, with aching heart. "Let me see if I +can't help that a little." + +She crawled close to his side, and seating herself with the side of the +car for a brace, gently lifted his head and shoulders into her lap. + +"Is that better?" she asked, as Dick settled back heavily. + +"Yes, dear; but I am afraid that it will be hard on you." + +"Oh, no! It makes me feel so much better to be able to do something +for you. It breaks my heart to have you suffer. Didn't those people do +anything for you?" + +"The surgeon dressed my wound when they reached the station. Then they +threw me into this box car. I felt worse because I didn't know what had +become of you." + +"Now you must rest," said Jeanne, holding him tenderly against her. "We +are still together, Dick. You must sleep if you can." + +And so through all the long dark night the girl held her wounded brother, +and strove to break the jolting of the rough car. Her arms ached from +their burden, and her limbs were numb, but she breathed no word of +discomfort. + +Sometimes Dick would fall into a fitful sleep in which he murmured +feverishly and then he would awake with a start, but Jeanne was always +awake to soothe him and to quiet his wandering fancy. + +At last the long hours of darkness passed, as the longest and darkest +must, and the sun rose lightening up even the gloomy box car with its +rays. Pale and wan Dick looked in the morning light and Jeanne's heart +was very full as she gazed at him. + +"What would mother say if she could see him?" she thought. "Oh, if she +were only here to take care of him! But she can't be and I must do my +best. God help me!" + +About nine o'clock the train slowed down and presently pulled into a +station. After a long time the doors of the car opened and some +Confederate soldiers appeared. + +"All out for Vicksburg," called one facetiously. + +"Shut up!" said another. "Don't you see that the boy is wounded and the +girl doesn't look any better than he does." + +"What are you going to do with him?" cried Jeanne in alarm as two of the +men lifted Dick up. + +"Take him to the provost marshal and then to the hospital. He is our +prisoner, you know." + +"Then you must take me right along with him," said Jeanne, decidedly, +rising stiffly. "I suppose I am a prisoner too." + +"I rather reckon so," was the dry reply. + +Jeanne said no more but followed closely after the man as Dick was carried +into the station. The depot was thronged with soldiers waiting to go +out to the batteries. She obtained her first glimpse of the "Gibraltar +of the South" as she drove through its streets by Dick's side, in an +ambulance. + +The city presented a fine appearance situated as it was on the wooded +summits of the Walnut Hills. From these elevations the flat alluvial +country around could be seen in every direction, which with its forests +of oaks and cottonwood interspersed with extensive plantations, formed a +picture of great panoramic beauty. The main portion of the city lay +near the water front and above it the hills were crowned with elegant +private residences, and made conspicuous by the high walls of the public +buildings. The court-house, a large structure of light gray limestone, +crowned the summit of one of the hills and was one of the first objects +to catch the eye. The streets rose from the river with an abrupt difficult +ascent and were cut through the bluffs and hills directly to the edge of +the levee. + +With something approaching awe Jeanne gazed at the formidable batteries +which had been erected to dispute the advance of the Federals. The +most of them were near the lower end of the town as if the greatest +danger were to be apprehended from that point. One tier was near the top +of the bluff, another about halfway down from the summit to the water. A +single row of water batteries was located near the brink of the river to +repel all attacks made at close range. The batteries on the hills causing +more trouble to the Unionists than those lower down as none of the +Federal guns could be elevated sufficiently to reach them while their +shot could be made to plunge through the decks and disable whatever +boats or vessels came within their range. As Jeanne gazed on these +formidable defenses she could not but wonder how the transport had +escaped destruction. + +The provost marshal was reached at last and Dick's name and regiment were +duly registered. Then the provost turned to Jeanne. + +"I don't know what to do with you," he said. "What were you doing?" + +"Dick and I were trying to reach the Mississippi River hoping that we +might get home," said Jeanne. + +"Were you carrying anything beyond the lines?" + +"No, sir." + +"How came you within our lines?" persisted the officer, attracted by her +youth and innocence, yet determined to probe the affair to the bottom. + +"I came from New Orleans," said Jeanne. "I was visiting my uncle. When +they left the city they took me with them but left me at a deserted +plantation. I started back to New Orleans but fell in with Colonel +Peyton's camp and he was bringing me to Jackson where he said that he +would send me to our side. I met Dick and so went with him because he +is my brother." + +"But what was Dick doing here?" queried the man. "What business has a +Union soldier in this part of the country?" + +"I was a prisoner," answered Dick, speaking for himself. "I had escaped +and when I knew that my sister was in the hands of you fellows I waited to +take her away." + +And Dick awaited the effect of his bold declaration anxiously for he was +uneasy for his sister. + +"I don't know what to do with you," said the provost again. + +"Let me go with Dick," pleaded Jeanne eagerly. "He is wounded as you see, +sir, and needs care and attention. Please let me go with him. I won't be a +bit of trouble." + +"I don't know but that that will be the best way out of the difficulty," +remarked the officer musingly. "At least until I can investigate further. +What was the name of your uncle?" + +"Vance, sir. Benjamin Vance.". + +"Benjamin Vance!" exclaimed the officer in amazement. "He is well-known in +Vicksburg. Why, he and his wife are here now visiting relatives. I will +send for him at once." + +"What!" cried Jeanne. "Uncle Ben here?" + +"Right here," responded the other. "Orderly, will you send word to the +La Chaise manor that I would like Mr. Vance to come here?" + +The Orderly saluted and left the room. The provost turned his attention to +other matters while Dick and Jeanne waited with beating hearts the return +of the man. + +In about an hour's time the Orderly returned and with him came the +well-known form of Mr. Vance. Behind him, her silken skirts rustling, her +face wreathed in smiles, her manner full of smirks and graces, walked +Madame Vance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MADAME AGAIN + + +"You dear child," cried Madame embracing Jeanne rapturously. "You cannot +imagine how desolate I have been at losing you. I was frantic when I +learned you were left behind. We went back for you, but you had gone. Ma +foi! You should have waited for our return." + +"Your story being so amiably verified," said the provost beaming upon the +girl, "I am happy to say there is no reason why you should not return to +your relatives. I am charmed to have assisted in reuniting you to your +honored family." + +"We will never forget it," said the lady sweetly. "If we are ever so +fortunate as to have the opportunity to repay the obligation, rest assured +that we will gladly use it. My sweet child, is this your brother? The +Orderly spoke of him as we came down." + +"Yes," said Jeanne hesitatingly. She was not at all pleased at the turn +affairs had taken, and did not relish the idea of being once more in the +hands of Madame. "Yes, this is Dick, Uncle Ben. You know that he bears +your name also: Richard Benjamin Vance." + +She drew near Dick as she spoke, standing between Madame and her brother, +and addressing herself to her uncle only. + +"Richard, I am glad to see you," said Mr. Vance, seizing the boy's hand +and speaking so heartily that Dick was bewildered. "A prisoner, they tell +me. Come! this won't do. We must have you with us for Clarisse to take +care of. She is a fine nurse!" + +"I do not want to go," said Dick weakly. The long wait was beginning to +tell upon him. "After the way that my sister has been treated I prefer +to trust to the mercy of my enemies than to receive any benefits from you." + +"My dear boy, has the little one been speaking of our differences? There +were some, I believe. She is headstrong and self-willed, but what would +you? I desire to admonish her for disobedience as a mother might, and +she grieves me by thinking that I do not love her, but I adore her! You +shall both come to us, and you shall see for yourself." + +"Yes," said Mr. Vance after a low conversation with the provost. "I have +arranged with the officer here that you shall come with us to be taken +care of. When you are well, then you must return to him. Orderly, can you +get some one to assist me in lifting my nephew to the carriage?" + +So in spite of themselves the brother and sister were placed in charge +of their uncle and his wife. The carriage bowled rapidly over the rough +streets and at last stopped before a large residence on the summit of one +of the hills. + +The building was long and low roofed, built after the Southern fashion +with wide halls and broad galleries running the entire length of the +house. It looked very inviting even to Jeanne who hovered protectingly +over her brother. + +"She shan't misuse Dick," she declared, over and over again. "She shan't +harm him." + +Dick was carried carefully into a large room and placed in a clean white +bed. A bright fire blazed upon the hearth and its heat was very welcome +after the ride in the chill November air. + +The boy, exhausted from his suffering and weak from loss of blood, +fainted as they placed him on the couch and Mr. Vance hurriedly summoned a +physician. Jeanne found herself pushed to one side while Mr. and Madame +Vance worked over the unconscious lad, but when she saw that their +ministrations were for his benefit she was content that it should be so. + +The most unremitting attention and constant care were what the boy +required declared the physician when he had made an examination. The +long ride in the rough car and exposure to chill, rendered the best of +nursing imperative. + +"If he does not have it he will die," he said. "Or if his wound breaks +out afresh it will be fatal." + +"He shall not die," cried Madame, with an adorable air of concern. "I will +care for him myself, doctor. He shall have the best of care." + +"I do not doubt it, Madame, with you for his attendant," said the +physician, gallantly. "I leave him in good hands." + +Jeanne saw with gratitude that Madame Vance did really give the best of +care to her brother, and she gladly forgave the treatment to which she had +been subjected. Occasionally she even forgot her intention of calling her +aunt "Aunt Clarisse," and the old "Cherie," came to her lips. + +"Ole missus done got huh claws on yer ergain," Snowball said to Jeanne +one morning. The negro girl had been enthusiastic in her greetings. "I +wuz moughty sorry ter see yer kum back ter huh ergain." + +"I could not help it, Snowball. I know that she does not like me any +better than she used to, but she is certainly kind to Dick and he needs +that now. Even mother could not nurse him more tenderly." + +"She done got sum crotchet in huh haid," grumbled Snowball. "Done yer be +tuk in, lill' missy. She up ter sumthing." + +The girl's words filled Jeanne with alarm. She had sometimes had the same +thought, but when she saw Madame's devotion to her brother, she dismissed +the idea from her mind. + +One day she sat by Dick's bedside alone. Madame had lain down for a little +rest, although the boy was not yet out of danger. + +"Jeanne," said the weak voice of her brother presently. + +"Yes, Dick," and the girl hastened to his side. "What is it?" + +"I wonder and wonder," said the boy, in a far away voice, "why you told me +what you did about Cherie. She is so good, so kind. The sweetest woman +that I ever knew besides my mother! Why, why did you tell me such awful +things of her, Jeanne? They are not true." + +Jeanne was aghast at the question. She stood, unable to answer, fearing +to excite him by telling the truth and yet unwilling for him to be under +the impression that her story was false. + +"Tell me," said Dick, weakly. "Why did you do it? I think of it always. +It was not like you, Jeanne." + +"Don't ask me, Dick," pleaded Jeanne, falling on her knees beside him. +"Wait until you are well and then we can talk it over." + +"You dally," cried Dick, his eyes bright with fever. "I see how it is! +You fibbed to me, Jeanne. I know you did." + +"No, Dick, I did not," cried Jeanne, heartbroken at the thought that Dick +could believe such a thing of her. "Listen, and I will tell you all about +it. Snowball can tell you too, if you do not believe me. But you will be +quiet, Dick, won't you? You will be very, very quiet." + +"You are not taking a very good way to get your brother well," exclaimed +Madame, entering abruptly. "I will have to forbid you the room if you +excite him like this. Can't you let your tales of me wait until he is +strong enough to bear them?" + +"Are they true?" asked Dick, looking up at her with eager eyes. "They are +not, are they?" + +"Yes," cried Jeanne, indignantly. "They are true, Dick! As true as I live! +Why should I tell you a falsehood?" + +"Are they?" and Dick's eyes lingered on his aunt's questioningly. + +"Dear boy," said Madame, caressing him, "believe what the little one tells +you. Is she not your sister? Poor Cherie would rather die than to say +aught against her. Think what you like." + +"I knew it," and Dick breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew that you could +not be so wicked and cruel." + +"Dick, Dick," cried his sister passionately. "You must believe me. It is +true. All that I tell you and more. Oh, Dick, turn away from that wicked +woman! Don't let her touch you! I will take care of you." + +"I will leave you, Dick, my soldier boy," said the lady holding him close +to her. "Your sister can take care of you, as she says. There! I will go." + +"No; I want you, Cherie," and the boy held her as tightly as his poor weak +hands would allow. "I don't want Jeanne, I want you." Exhausted by the +excitement he sank back unconscious on his pillow. + +Madame's eyes flashed triumphantly at the girl. + +"Go," she said in her honey sweet accents which to the sensitive ear of +the girl were full of bitterness. "Go, and let me repair the mischief you +have done. Blame yourself if this proves too much for him. His death will +be upon your shoulders." + +With white face Jeanne crept from the room, and lay without the door while +her aunt summoned aid. After a time the lady joined her. + +"Unhappy girl," she said, "you have almost killed your brother. It is due +to my skill alone that he lives. I forbid you to enter his room again +until he is beyond danger. If you try to see him I cannot answer for the +consequences. Or perhaps you would rather he would die than to live and +to care for me more than for you. Did you see how he turned from you to +me? How did you like that?" + +"Aunt Clarisse," answered Jeanne, every word of the woman going to her +heart like the stab of a knife, "save him, and I will ask nothing more. He +may love you best----" her voice faltered. "Only save him." + +"I am going to," said Madame with emphasis. "Do you want to know why, +my dear? Because I took a fancy to Monsieur Dick when you used to talk +so about him. I adore a soldier! Had you been a boy I might have loved +you. When the Orderly told us that you were here with your brother I +came down because I wanted to see him for myself. I saw him, petite. +He is the picture of what my own boy would have been had he lived. I +would not have come on your account, you little mudsill! You might have +been sent to Libby prison for all I cared, but I wanted Dick. I want him +for myself. He cares for me now. By the time he is well he will adore me. +Nay; he will be so fond of me that he will give up father, mother and even +that beloved Union of which you prate so much because I wish it. You +shall see!" + +"You will do this? Aunt Clarisse, you cannot. Dick believes in you now, +but he will never love you better than he does mother. And he never will, +no matter how much he likes you, give up his country." + +"We shall see," and the lady laughed unpleasantly. "You would have said +yesterday that he loved you better, wouldn't you? Yet see! to-day he +prefers me. He shall yet wear the gray of my own South." + +Shaking her finger at the girl with pretended playfulness she reëntered +Dick's room leaving Jeanne full of misery. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +JEANNE MEETS FRIENDS + + +And so, fearful of exciting her brother, Jeanne refrained from visiting +his chamber. But her heart was heavy and she grew pale and thin. + +"Dick will not yield," she said to herself over and over again. "He has +fought for his country, and no man who has laid down his life upon his +country's altar could ever betray her. Why do I fear? He is father's +son." But she stopped short as a sudden thought struck her. "Father's +son," she whispered, "yet Uncle Ben is father's brother. I will not +think! I will wait until he is better, and then get him to go away." + +Thus trying to comfort herself she wandered through the house or stood +disconsolately in the grounds watching the soldiers as they worked +daily at the fortifications. December passed, and great were the public +rejoicings over Sherman's defeat in his attack on the city. + +"Vicksburg can never be taken," said Madame Vance with insolent triumph. +"And so long as Vicksburg stands, stands the Confederacy." + +"Yes; it is such folly for them to waste ammunition in trying to take +a city like this," spoke Mrs. La Chaise, Madame's relative. "Why its +defenses and protection are stronger than any city they have in the United +States." + +"I thought that Vicksburg was in the United States," said Jeanne quickly. + +"It is in the Confederacy," responded Madame Vance sharply. "When will you +learn, Jeanne, that the United States is a separate and distinct country." + +"Never," replied the girl. "I think you will be convinced of your mistake +some time." + +"When Vicksburg falls perhaps we may," interposed Mrs. La Chaise. "I will +be willing to acknowledge it then, won't you, Clarisse?" + +"Yes; will you come in and see my boy this morning, Adele? He is getting +on finely." + +"I will come too," said Jeanne determinedly. "I think Dick is strong +enough to see me if he can see the rest of the family." + +"I forbid it," said Madame sternly. "He doesn't care to see you. The sight +would be very unpleasant to him." + +"The sight of me? His sister!" exclaimed the girl in amaze. "I do not +believe it, Aunt Clarisse." + +"You shall not go. He does not need you." + +"I will go. I have stayed out quite long enough," and Jeanne rose from her +seat and started for Dick's bedroom. But Madame was by her side instantly. + +"If you do not do as I tell you, I will lock you up again," she said +threateningly. "I think you had a taste of that once." + +"You dare not," retorted Jeanne. "These people would not let you." + +"Indeed, had I been in your aunt's place I would have done so long ago," +declared Mrs. La Chaise who had always disliked the girl. Jeanne looked +appealingly at her uncle but that gentleman only turned to Mr. La Chaise +with some remark on the war. They were all against her, and as she gazed +into their faces she realized how helpless she was. + +"But I want to see my brother," she cried bursting into tears. + +"You shall see him when I am ready for you to if you will be a good girl +and obey me," said Madame Vance. "I do not choose that you shall to-day. +Now run out in the yard or take a walk. It will do you good. Come, Adele, +we will go to Dick." + +With bursting heart Jeanne saw the two disappear into Dick's chamber. She +sat looking longingly at the door for some time and then left the house +and started for a walk, unable to sit still longer. + +One of the hills of Vicksburg was called the Sky Parlor because of the +extensive view that it commanded and also because it was a favorite resort +of ladies in pleasant weather. Now, although the wind was cold and chill, +Jeanne bent her steps toward it in the effort to find some distraction +for her mind. + +So intent was she on her own thoughts that she gazed on the surroundings +with eyes that saw neither the hills nor the great bend of the river, nor +indeed the two persons who were at a little distance from her. A sigh +escaped her lips as she turned at length to retrace her steps. In so doing +she was brought face to face with a man and a girl who were in the act +of coming toward her. An exclamation of surprise burst from the girl's +lips. + +"Jeanne!" + +"Bob," cried Jeanne gladly and then stopped short as the remembrance came +to her that Colonel Peyton had forbidden Bob to have any communication +with her. Seemingly no such recollection occurred to Bob or, if it did +she ignored it, for she flung herself upon Jeanne rapturously. + +"You dear thing!" she cried kissing her. "How in the world did you get +here? We did not know what had become of you, but father said you had left +of your own accord. Did you?" + +"Yes; I did, Bob. I went with Dick." Tears came to her eyes at thought of +him. "He had waited to take me after his escape." + +"Is he with you?" asked Bob, quickly. + +"Oh, Bob," she cried, breaking down completely. "I am in so much trouble." + +"Are you?" Bob hugged her close. "Tell me all about it, Jeanne." + +Jeanne looked up and started her story, but hesitated as she saw Bob's +companion. + +"Don't mind him," said Bob, observing her look. "He's a real nice old man +who boards at Aunt Sally's. We are great friends." + +"If I am not mistaken, this is a young lady with whom I am well +acquainted," said the old gentleman, looking at Jeanne quizzically. +"Aren't you the little girl who likes puns?" + +"Mr. Huntsworth," cried Jeanne, in astonishment, "how did you come here?" + +"After I left you I went to Corinth on some business," said Mr. +Huntsworth. "To wind it up satisfactorily I was obliged to come on to +Vicksburg. The good people here got it into their heads that I was in +some sort of secret work and so detained me. As they have no proof I +am permitted to have my freedom which is liberty only in a restricted +sense as I am not permitted to leave the city. However, I am quite +comfortable. I am boarding with this young lady's aunt, who is a very +fine woman. Very fine, indeed! And we have some rare times together, eh, +Bob." + +"Indeed we do," cried Bob, gaily. "And dad is stationed here, Jeanne, so +that while I am at Aunt Sally's I see him almost every day." + +"How do you live away from your regiment, Bob?" + +"It was hard at first, but now I don't mind it so much. And then I go to +see them sometimes. Aunt Sally was horrified when she found I had been +so long with the soldiers. See, I don't wear my uniform any more. But +I expect that if the war lasts much longer I'll have to go back to it. +Goods are not being imported very fast into the Confederacy." + +"You said you were in trouble, my little friend," said Mr. Huntsworth, +who had been taking note of Jeanne's pale face and distressed air. "Tell +us about it. We may be able to help you." + +"Will your father care if I talk to you, Bob?" asked Jeanne, longing to +confide in these friends and yet hesitating to do so. + +"Dad was sorry after you left that he had been so unkind to you," said +Bob. "Especially when he found how good you had been to send Frank to +your home. He regretted his sternness. So we can be friends all right. Now +tell us all about it." + +"I will," and Jeanne told all that had occurred since she left the +regiment and briefly sketched for Mr. Huntsworth's benefit the happenings +in New Orleans. + +"My dear," said the old gentleman, gravely, when she had finished, "you +are indeed in trouble. I must think it over and see if I cannot help you." + +"I think your aunt is just about the meanest person I ever heard of," +declared Bob. "I am sorry that she is a Southerner. I didn't know that we +had any one among us that could be like that." + +"She is partly of foreign blood, Bob." + +"To be sure! That explains everything," said Bob. "But what makes your +uncle let her act so?" + +"I don't know," said Jeanne, sadly, "he seems to have no will but hers. +Sometimes I think that he is afraid of her, and yet why should a great big +man be afraid of a slender woman?" + +"I have known of such cases," observed Mr. Huntsworth. "There may be more +in that than you dream, my dear. We must think over the matter and see +what can be done. And remember, child, that you have friends. That you +are no longer alone but that we will help you some way." + +"Oh," said Jeanne, brokenly, "it is so good of you. I felt so forlorn. I +thought that I was forsaken by every one. But I won't feel so any more. +You are so good----" She burst into a flood of tears. + +"There! there!" Bob comforted her with endearments while Mr. Huntsworth +blew his nose vigorously. "I know just how you feel, Jeanne. It nearly +killed me when Frank went over to the Union instead of staying with his +own people. I don't blame you for wanting to keep your brother on your +side." + +"You are generous, Bob. I did not sympathize with you before, but I do +now. I don't believe that Dick will go, but I am so afraid of what Aunt +Clarisse may do to him if he doesn't. No! Dick won't go. But I must +return. They will wonder what has become of me." + +"It is high time all of us were leaving," remarked Mr. Huntsworth. "This +is rather a breezy place for a conversation." + +Still conversing the three slowly descended the elevation, and then +bidding them good-bye Jeanne returned to the La Chaise residence feeling +more hopeful now that she knew that Bob and Mr. Huntsworth were in the +city. As she entered the grounds Snowball dodged from behind one of the +trees. + +"Lill' missy," she said, "go down behind de smokehouse de fust chance yer +git. I'se got sumpin' ter tell yer." + +"All right, Snowball. I will go now," replied Jeanne rather startled. + +"Not now, missy. Deys done seen yer kum in. Go on ter yer room and then +slip down arter yer stays dere awhile." + +Jeanne followed the girl's advice, and went on to the house. Madame +Vance looked up as she entered. She gave a quick glance at the girl, +and something in the latter's face caught her attention. + +"You look brighter," she commented. "Whom did you see?" + +"Many people, Madame," replied Jeanne somewhat shortly. + +"It seems to have helped you then. Did anything happen?" + +"Nothing," returned the girl drearily, her old look of hopelessness +returning for she feared that Madame suspected something. "What could +happen?" + +"Don't give me any impudence, Jeanne. I am not in the mood for it. Go at +once to your room," commanded her aunt and Jeanne gladly obeyed. + +As soon as possible she crept softly downstairs and succeeded in getting +out of the house unobserved by either Madame or Mrs. La Chaise and ran +eagerly to the smokehouse. + +Snowball was waiting for her. + +"Missy," she said as soon as the girl reached her side, "hab yer seen yer +brudder lately?" + +"No, Snowball. They won't let me," said Jeanne sadly. + +"Den yer had bettah see him as soon as yer can, fer dere's a powerful lot +of meanness gwine on." + +"What do you mean?" cried Jeanne apprehensively. + +"Ole missus am a tryin' ter make him leab Massa Linkum's ahmy. I heerd +Jeff tell Feliciane dat she was 'suadin' him awful ha'd. Den too I heare +ole missus tell him myself dis mohnin' when dey sent me fer more wood and +didn't notice pertic'lar dat I had kum back, ole missus say ter him when +he done axed fer you, 'I done know what de mattah wid Jeanne,' she say. +'She done seem ter kyar ter see yer. I axed her ter kum dis mohnin', an' +she say, 'no, I'm gwine fer a walk.' Den yer brudder say bery weak like, +'I can't understan' it. I tought she lubed me.'" + +"Did he say that?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, Snowball, what can I do? I must see +him. Won't you help me?" + +"Yes, missy, I will. Eben ef dey kills me fer it," declared the girl +fervently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A PRISONER OF WAR + + +"But what can we do, Snowball?" asked Jeanne her voice trembling with +emotion. "How can I see him?" + +"De missus takes a nap ebery day," said the darky. "An' sumtimes she calls +me ter set in de room s'posin' Massa Dick want anything. Sumtimes she +tells Feliciane ter do it. We'll jest wait tell she tells me ter do it, +an' den I'll let yer in. We'll hab ter watch sha'p elsen she'll ketch us." + +"We will," said Jeanne. "I would not care for myself, but I would not like +to get you into trouble." + +"Nebber you mind me, lill' missy. You'se been moughty good ter me, an' +I'll stan' anything ter help yer see yer brudder." + +"Thank you, Snowball," and Jeanne's eyes filled with tears at this +evidence of affection. "When I can I am going to help you to get back +to your mother. I will never forget what you are doing for me." + +"Dat's all right, missy. Jest you wait tell I does sumthin' an' den talk. +Time nuff den! Now I mus' run back. Done want missus ter know dat I hab +been talkin' ter yer." + +"I'll go a different way, and she won't suspect us," said Jeanne and the +two separated. + +Two days, full of anxiety to Jeanne, passed before Snowball was called to +attend Dick. Waiting only until she heard the door of Madame's chamber +click, the darky sped to Jeanne's room and called her. + +"Nuffin' couldn't a happened bettah," she said. "Missus Adele, she's gone +ter town; an' tuk Feliciane with huh. Jeff's gwine huntin' wid marster +an' Mistah La Chaise. I ain't afeerd ob de res' ob de niggas. Kum now, +missy, an' yer'll hab a right smaht while wid yer brudder." + +Jeanne started up eagerly and ran down the stairs to Dick's chamber. Her +brother was lying fully dressed on a couch with his back toward her. He +did not turn at her entrance and before she had time to address him, +Snowball darted through the door. + +"Foh de land sake, missy, git outen heah quick," she whispered. "Ole +missus am a kumin' back." + +Her terror communicated itself to Jeanne and the girl stopped stock still +in the middle of the floor. The click, click of Madame's shoes could be +heard distinctly in the hall. To go out would be to meet her, and for +the nonce the spirit of the girl quailed. Glancing quickly about her the +heavily curtained window caught her eye and she sprang toward it. It was +but the work of a moment to ensconce herself behind its voluminous folds. +Scarcely had she done so when Madame entered. + +"I thought I heard some one," she said suspiciously. "Have you been +attending to Master Dick, Snowball?" + +"Does yer want anyting now, Massa Dick?" asked Snowball going to the lad's +side, gladly ignoring the lady's first remark. + +"Give me a drink, please," said Dick weakly. + +"I will give it to him myself," said Madame. "You may leave the room, +Snowball. Master Dick and I want to have a little talk all by ourselves." + +"Yes'm," acquiesced Snowball, but she lingered loth to leave Jeanne. + +"At once," commanded Madame sharply. "Why do you loiter when I tell you +to go?" + +"Yes'm; I'm a-gwine now," and the girl left the room reluctantly. + +"You feel much better, do you not, my boy?" and the lady stroked the lad's +hair gently. + +"Yes, Cherie." + +"So well that we can have our little talk again? We will not be +interrupted to-day as we were yesterday." + +"If you wish," and it seemed to Jeanne that Dick spoke with great +weariness. "But of what use is it? You have your views and I have +mine. Why not let the subject drop when we cannot agree?" + +"Because the old adage has it, 'That constant dropping will wear away +the hardest stone.' By keeping continually at you I shall finally succeed +in overcoming your scruples, and get your signature to the oath of +allegiance to the Confederacy." + +"Never!" exclaimed Dick with so much resolution that his sister's heart +swelled with thankfulness and pride. "Though you were to talk to me +forever you could not change my principles." + +"Listen to me, Dick." Madame spoke in her sweetest tones. "You are but +a boy. You cannot know which side is right in this war when great men have +differed upon the matter. I have heard you say that you honored Robert +E. Lee. That he was a noble man, a great general, and one of the finest +gentlemen that you ever met. Think you that such a man would embrace our +cause if he did not believe himself right?" + +"I do not," answered Dick at once. "There are many men on the side of the +South who believe themselves to be in the right. But they are none the +less mistaken for all that." + +"And you set up your feeble judgment against them?" cried Madame, a trace +of anger in her voice. "It is presumption." + +Dick did not reply. Presently Madame spoke again, and Jeanne noted that +her tones were once more caressingly soft. + +"Dick, I have spoken to you of my own son, have I not?" + +"Yes, Cherie." + +"He was so much like you. When I used to hear Jeanne talk of you I knew +that you were what my boy would have been. When I saw you my heart yearned +over you, for you were the image of him. Had he lived he would have +fought to defend our South from the rank invaders." + +"I do not doubt it," spoke the boy gently. + +"Think how desolate I am," went on the lady quick to note the lad's +sympathy for her. "I have no one, Dick. Be my boy, I will be so proud of +you. You would be our heir, and have all the property. I have influence +too, and it should be used to advance you quickly to a high rank. You +should be a general, my boy. The handsomest and youngest in the service. +Think what I can give you. And all just to sign one little paper! Why do +you hesitate? Why throw away such advantages for the sake of a mere +notion? Come, sign it." + +Dick was silent so long that Jeanne became alarmed and she pushed back +the curtain and looked at the pair anxiously. Madame Vance was holding a +paper before the boy pleadingly, while Dick was regarding it with a look +of indifference. + +"You will, my beautiful boy. You will, I know. You cannot refuse a +mother's prayer. Oh, I know that you will not refuse me." + +"But I do," said Dick who showed signs that the interview was taxing his +strength to the utmost. "I will die before I sign that paper." + +"You refuse?" cried Madame, losing control of herself. "Then hear me, +Richard Vance. You shall not thwart me in my purpose. You shall sign that +paper. I am stronger than you, and I say that you shall do it." + +She seized the lad's hand and tried to force a pen into it. Dick struggled +feebly. With a bound Jeanne was by his side, all her fear of the woman +gone in the menace to her brother. + +"What are you doing here, Jeanne Vance?" cried Madame starting back at +sight of the girl. "How came you here?" + +"I wanted to see my brother," answered Jeanne, throwing her arms about +him protectingly. "Have you no heart, no feeling, that you would take +advantage of his weakness?" + +"I am not so weak that she could make me sign that paper," cried Dick, +his pale face and shaking hands belying his assertion. + +"We shall see," cried Madame threateningly. "He shall sign it before you, +my little Yankee." + +Jeanne watched her opportunity as her aunt tried to push her aside, and +snatched the paper from her hand. + +"There!" she cried as she tore it into shreds. "There, Aunt Clarisse! He +cannot sign it now." + +"How dare you?" cried Madame, stamping her foot. "I will have you whipped." + +But as she started to call the servants a sharp peal of the door bell +rang through the house. Instantly a most remarkable transformation took +place in the lady. Her rage disappeared as if by magic, and, as one of +the darkies opened the door to announce. "Colonel Peyton," she presented +a serene and smiling countenance to the gentleman. + +"Colonel Peyton," she exclaimed, sweeping forward gracefully, "this is +indeed an honor. To what good fortune am I indebted for such a favor?" + +"The exigencies of war, Madame," answered the Colonel, bowing over her +hand with courtly grace. "I am accompanied by some of my men. May I ask +that they be permitted to enter?" + +"Certainly," assented Madame sweetly, but there was a trace of uneasiness +in her manner. + +Into the room filed a squad of soldiers and with them, Jeanne could +scarcely repress a cry of joy at sight of him, came Mr. Huntsworth. + +"Madame," said Colonel Peyton, pulling a paper from his pocket. +"General Pemberton has sent a written order for a young man--a Federal +prisoner--who was put in your charge to be taken care of until he +should have recovered from his wound. As some time has elapsed he is +convinced that he has sufficiently recovered to be turned over to us. +I have come to take him and also the young girl who accompanied him. They +are prisoners of war, you understand." + +Madame Vance bowed but her eyes glittered balefully. + +"The girl is here, take her," she said. "But the boy--ah, mon Colonel, +you must not take him yet. He is not able to go. Besides, let me but have +him a short time longer and who knows but that a full fledged Confederate +may be the result? He is not able to go. Leave him with me, Colonel, I +beseech you. I will see the General myself." + +"No; take him," interposed Jeanne who feared that the Colonel might +succumb to the lady's blandishments. "She wants to force him to her wish, +and you don't want such soldiers, Colonel Peyton." + +"No," said the Colonel sternly. "We want no recruits made in such a +manner, Madame Vance. Men, take your prisoner." + +"Minx," shrieked Madame, flying at Jeanne in a passion. "Is it thus you +repay my kindness? Oh, I could kill you!" + +"She is our prisoner," said Colonel Peyton stepping before her. "You must +not touch the girl, Madame." + +"I will report this indignity," cried Madame. "I will see General +Pemberton. I do not lack influence, sir. You shall repent this." + +"As you like, Madame." The Colonel bowed gravely and, like the brave +soldier that he was, remained with the lady while the men carried Dick +out, followed by Jeanne and Mr. Huntsworth who had his arm around the +girl protectingly. + +"Oh," cried the girl as they proceeded down the hill away from the place. +"I am so glad that you came when you did. I fear that I could not have +held out much longer." + +"Tell us what happened," suggested Mr. Huntsworth, and Jeanne did so. + +"I think I never saw such a tiger cat," remarked the old gentleman when +she had finished. "There was a time there when I thought that she was +going to tear you to pieces. I fear that you are not through with her, +my little friend." + +"I will see General Pemberton," declared Colonel Peyton, "and prepare him +for Madame's onslaught. Meantime, I have his permission for you and your +brother to stay at sister Sally's until your brother fully recovers. But +he is not at liberty, Jeanne, because he is a prisoner, you know." + +"Yes, I know," said Jeanne, "and I will not say a word against it. Better +a prisoner of the Confederates than to be in the hands of such a woman. +There will at least be some chance to exchange him. You don't dislike +me any more, do you, Colonel Peyton? You won't care if Bob and I are +friends, will you?" + +"No; you poor child! I have been sorry that I was so unkind to you. After +all I was glad that you girls saved Frank. It would have broken my heart +had he been shot. Ah!----" + +There was a rushing, whizzing sound and a huge mortar shell passed over +them, and, burying itself in the side of the hill beyond, exploded with a +great report. + +"What is it?" cried Jeanne affrightedly clinging to Mr. Huntsworth. + +"The Federals have begun to shell the city," said the Colonel calmly. +"Their fleet has been gathering for several days. We have been expecting +it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE SIEGE BEGINS + + +"Then we are safe, safe," cried Jeanne, forgetful of the presence of the +soldiers. "Oh, Mr. Huntsworth, the Federals will soon have the city!" + +"I wouldn't be too sure of that, my little lady," remarked Colonel Peyton +dryly. "Vicksburg is impregnable, and I fear that it will be a waste of +ammunition on the part of the Federals." + +"I did not mean to be impolite, Colonel," said the girl contritely. "It +wasn't very nice of me to make such a remark. I should be sorry for you +if our men did take the city." + +"You are a good little girl," said Colonel Peyton warmly. "I like a +generous hearted foe." + +"You must be careful not to express your feelings too openly," advised +Mr. Huntsworth in a low tone. "These people are rebels but they are going +to be our hosts and the Colonel has certainly interested himself in your +behalf." + +"He has," said Jeanne gratefully, "and I will be careful not to offend +them." + +Bob, rather pale and agitated on account of the shells, met them at the +door. + +"Dad, what will we do if they shell the city?" she cried before greeting +Jeanne. + +"I reckon we can't do anything," drawled the Colonel. "I thought you were +a soldier, Bob? Soldiers don't mind a few shells." + +"I suppose not," and Bob strove to regain her composure. "So you got +Jeanne and her brother? Come in and tell me what else that woman has +done. Here is Aunt Sally! Aunty, this is Jeanne and her brother, Dick +Vance. They're Yankees but they are real nice anyway." + +"I am glad to see you, my dear," said the lady, kissing Jeanne. "Any +friend of Bob's is welcome be she Yankee or Confederate. And this is your +brother? How pale he is! We must get him right to bed." + +She bustled about Dick in a motherly fashion, her sympathies fully +enlisted on his behalf by his illness. Dick was in truth much exhausted by +his journey and sank into slumber as soon as his head touched the pillow. +Jeanne sat by him and told Bob and her aunt how Madame had tried to +make him sign the paper. + +"Rest and quiet are what he needs," observed Mr. Huntsworth. "He will +come out of this all right, I think, now that he is removed from your +aunt's ministrations. What a creature she is! She reminds me of the middle +ages. Vindictive, passionate and cruel beyond measure as were the women +of those times!" + +The slow shelling of Vicksburg went on. The people gradually became +indifferent and resumed their daily avocations. General Pemberton issued +an order for all non-combatants to leave the city, but Bob and her aunt +refused to pay any heed to it. + +"Where could we go?" asked Bob when her father tried to combat her +decision to stay. "You say the country is overrun with soldiers, and +where is there a place safer than Vicksburg? The Yankees can never take +it!" + +"No; they cannot," returned the Colonel. "I don't know but that you +are right, Bob. I will have a cave dug in the hill back of the house +to-morrow, and you can retire to it when the shelling becomes too bad." + +And so it was arranged. Men began work the next day and soon dug a cave +in the hillside back of them. Cave residence had become quite the thing +since the shelling of the city had begun, and the hillsides were so +honey-combed with excavations that the streets looked like avenues in a +cemetery. + +Bob and Jeanne settled themselves into a happy and quiet existence. They +sewed in the morning and sometimes took excursions to Sky Parlor Hill +to view the Federal fleet that lay on the river, and to look through a +glass at the Federal encampment near the head of the abandoned canal. +Rumors were rife in the city of the advance of the Federal troops. One +night heavy cannonading was heard for an hour or two, ceasing and then +commencing again early in the morning. All day the noise continued. That +night the sky in the South was crimsoned by the light of a large fire. + +The lurid glare fell in red and amber light upon the houses, lighting up +the white magnolias, paling the pink crape myrtles, and bringing out in +bright distinctness the railing of the terraces where drooped in fragrant +wreaths the clustering passion vine. The next day the news came that +the little village of Warrenton had been burned by shells thrown from +the boats. Then followed the tidings that a battle was going on between +the Federal troops and General Pemberton's forces at Black River. And so +the days passed full of rumors and excitement. + +The seventeenth of May dawned, and Vicksburg was thrilled to the centre by +the news of a battle and the tidings that the Confederates were beaten. +Soon the streets were filled with bands of tired, worn-looking soldiers. +Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, footsore and bloody the men limped along +unarmed but followed by siege guns, ambulances, gun carriages and wagons +in aimless confusion. At twilight the bands began to play "Dixie," +"The Bonnie Blue Flag," and other martial airs on the court-house hill +to rally the scattered army. + +"Mr. Huntsworth," said Jeanne as they were for a few moments out of +ear-shot of the lamenting Bob. "I heard a man say that the Yankees would +be here before long. Do you think it can be true?" + +"I don't know, child. Let us hope so," was the answer. + +But the day passed and no Yankees made their appearance and the citizens +settled once more into a semblance of quiet. But from that time the +regular siege of Vicksburg began. Utterly cut off from the world and +surrounded by a circle of fire, the fiery shower of shells went on day +and night. Regular occupations were discontinued, and people did nothing +but eat what they could get, sleep when they could and dodge the shells. + +For some time Aunt Sally, Bob, Dick, Jeanne and Mr. Huntsworth, and the +servants had been living in the commodious cave prepared for them. The +girls no longer sewed or walked about. They were content if they could +keep out of range of the shells. Once every day some one of them ran the +gauntlet of shells to buy the meat and milk. Mule meat was the staple +article of diet, but this Bob and Jeanne utterly refused to touch and +confined themselves to rice and milk. + +"It is not at all bad," declared Mr. Huntsworth as he sat at the door of +the cave one evening a piece of the meat in his hand. "Come here, girls, +and let me show you the difference in the shells. There goes a Parrott. +That's a mortar shell that curls so beautifully down yon hillside. +This"--as he dodged back into the cave to escape one--"is a rifle shell." + +"I don't see what difference it makes," said Bob retreating to the back +of the cave, "what kind of a shell it is if it kills you. Do you, Jeanne?" + +"I think not," answered Jeanne tremblingly. "What a fearful thing war is! +Oh!" + +A shell fell just without the mouth of the cavern like a flame of fire, +making the earth tremble, and with a low, singing sound the fragments sped +on in their work of death. + +"We seem to be within range this evening," said Mr. Huntsworth as he came +to where the trembling girls crouched. + +Shell after shell followed each other in quick succession, and our little +party stood without speaking, awaiting the sudden death that seemed almost +certain. Jeanne's heart stood still as she heard the reports from the +guns and the rushing fearful sound as the shells came toward them. As +the shells neared the cave the noise became more deafening; the air was +full of the rushing sound; pains darted through her temples; her ears +were full of the confusing noise; and, as one would explode, the report +flashed through her head like an electric shock, leaving her in a state +of terror, painful to be imagined. + +The rest of the occupants of the cavern were not much better off. After +this paroxysm of fear passed they strove for composure only to be again +overcome as the fusillade was repeated. + +Morning found them more dead than alive, with blanched faces and trembling +lips, but as the time passed and they were still preserved, although the +shells came as fast as ever, they took courage and at last regained a +measure of calmness. + +There was not much mental rest for the people of Vicksburg, and added +to Jeanne's apprehensions for their safety was the anxiety over Dick. The +lad had grown as strong as was possible considering the scarcity of +nourishing food and, as the shelling grew worse, a sort of restlessness +seized upon him and he would stand without the entrance of the cave +careless of the shells falling about him, watching their progress intently. + +"I am afraid that he will be killed," said Jeanne tearfully to Bob. "Why +does he do it, Bob?" + +"Mr. Huntsworth says that it is because he is a soldier," said Bob. + +"I wish I could take him home. I must as soon as possible," said Jeanne. + +Bob looked at her wonderingly. It was a surprise to her how Jeanne still +kept the hope of getting home, and ignored the fact that she and Dick were +prisoners. Opening her lips she was about to reply when the unmistakable +whirring of a shell told her that the battery which they feared the +most had turned their guns upon their hill. Running to the entrance she +called Dick and the servants in. They had just obeyed her summons when a +Parrott shell came whirring in at the entrance and fell in the centre +of the cave before them all, lying there smoking. + +Terrified they fastened their eyes upon it. Their fate seemed certain. +For one moment they remained thus, and then Dick rushed forward, seized +the shell and threw it into the street, regaining the cave just as the +shell exploded. + +"Dick," cried Jeanne running to him, "oh, how brave you are! But what if +you had been killed!" + +"It's time I was throwing them," said Dick emphatically. "I ought to have +been at the other end of them long ago." + +"Oh, but what if you had been killed," sobbed Jeanne. "What would mother +say?" + +"That I had but done my duty," answered the lad. + +"He is right," said Mr. Huntsworth. "Besides had he not been so brave not +only he but all the rest of us would have been killed also. Let us give +thanks for our wonderful escape." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MADAME FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Since leaving the La Chaises' Jeanne had seen nothing of her uncle and +aunt, so she supposed that they had withdrawn from the city when General +Pemberton had issued the order for the non-combatants to leave. One +afternoon amid the rush and explosion of the shells, cries and screams +arose--the screams of women amid the shrieks of the falling shells. Their +curiosity getting the better of their timidity, Jeanne and Bob resolved to +find out what was the matter. + +"Then I will go too," said Dick, "if you are resolved upon going, but I +think it is foolhardy." + +"Let's go," cried Bob. "I am so tired of this damp, ill-smelling, earthy +home that I almost think I would welcome death as a change. Let's go." + +The three started forth, dodging the shells as they walked. Presently +they came to a cave in a side hill around which a number of people were +gathered. + +"What has happened?" asked Dick of a man. + +"It's the cave of the Vances and the La Chaises," was the answer. "Some +shells struck the ground above and it caved in burying them. We don't know +whether they are dead or alive." + +With an exclamation of horror Dick darted forward. + +"A spade," he cried. "A spade, or a pick, or a shovel! Anything that will +dig! Why do you stand here, men?" + +"We can't work with the shells flying around us," growled a man. + +"You are not any more likely to be hit while working than you are standing +still," cried the boy. "Get something quick!" + +Moved by his earnestness the men obtained picks, shovels, spades, and +anything that would move the dirt, and in spite of the flying shells +began to dig out the unfortunate persons. Pale as death Jeanne stood +by, clinging to Bob, unwilling to leave the spot until she could learn +their condition. Her resentment toward her uncle and aunt was overcome by +the great catastrophe that had overtaken them. + +Mr. Vance was found first. He was quite dead, as were also Mr. and Mrs. La +Chaise. Madame Vance was alive but had sustained mortal injuries so that +her death was but a question of a few moments. Her eyes lighted up when +they fell upon Dick. + +"My boy," she cried feebly, "you did like me, didn't you?" + +"Indeed I did, Cherie," and Dick took the poor crushed form into his arms. + +"I knew it," she whispered looking at him lovingly. "Forgive me, Dick, +that I used you so. I wanted you to think as I did." + +"It is all forgiven," said the boy tenderly. "Here is Jeanne, Cherie. Have +you no word for her?" + +"No," said Madame. "I never liked her. She was a child, but she took you +from me, my boy. + +"There is the property," said Madame suddenly to Jeanne. "That Yankee +General seized it in your name and declared that he should hold it for +you. It was to pay us for putting it in your name. It is yours, but I +want Dick to have it. Will you give it to him?" + +"Yes," answered Jeanne her tender heart very full of sympathy for her +aunt's sufferings. "I will do whatever you desire, dear Cherie." + +"Then give him the property and leave me with him. I don't want to die. It +is so cold. So cold! Where are you, Dick?" + +"Here," and Dick held her tenderly. + +"It is getting dark. My boy,--ah!" a gasp and all was over. + +That night as the moon shed its softening rays over the besieged city, +a little cortege consisting of Mr. Huntsworth, Dick, Aunt Sally, Jeanne, +Bob and a few servants came forth from the cave to perform the last sad +rites for all that remained of Mr. Vance, Madame and their relatives. + +Even in the softening light of the moon the blighting hand of warfare was +visible over the town. The closed and desolate houses, the gardens with +gates half open in which were the loveliest flowers and verdure! The +carelessness of appearance and evident haste of departure was visible +everywhere, the inhabitants feeling only anxiety for their personal safety +and the strength of their cave homes. + +The guns were still and peace for a time reigned over the troubled city. +The stars shone coldly down upon them, twinkling as brightly as though +no great strife was being waged beneath them. + +Jeanne's tears were falling fast as she walked back by Dick's side in the +cool fresh air of the morning. + +"Dick," she whispered, detaining him as the others entered the cave, "you +don't harbor any bitterness toward me, do you?" + +"Toward you, Jeanne? No;" and Dick folded her in a close embrace. "Why +did you think so?" + +"You have been so still, so quiet since Aunt Clarisse died that I feared +that you thought me to blame in some way." + +"No, no, sister. I have been thinking of Cherie, and of what a mixture +she was of tenderness and vindictiveness. I thought once that I should +never forgive her for turning me against you, and for trying to wean me +from my country." + +"But you do forgive her, don't you, Dick? She is dead now and can never +harm us any more." + +"Yes; I forgave her when she was lying there in my arms," said Dick. "But +I will never forget how good you have been, Jeanne. You stood by me as +no sister ever stood by a brother before. Why, had it not been for you I +might have been made to sign that paper." + +"I do not believe that you ever would," cried Jeanne. + +"And you saved me," and Dick kissed her tenderly. "How proud father and +mother will be of you, Jeanne." + +"Do you think that we shall ever see them again?" asked the girl +mournfully. + +"Yes, I do," said Dick positively. "I feel sure that the city will be +taken soon. It cannot hold out much longer. The soldiers have only pea +soup to live on now, and men can't fight on a diet like that. Oh, if I +were only in it!" and the boy looked wistfully over at the Federal fleet +as it lay on the broad bosom of the river. "My place is there, and yet +here I am mewed up like a girl! If ever I do get out I'll pepper the rebs +for this." + +"If the Federals take the city you will soon be free," comforted Jeanne. + +"Come, you must go to your rest," said Dick. "Isn't it fine the way we +are giving it to them, Jeanne? I just stand and watch those shells in +wonder. General Grant has worked for months for this and now the end is +near." + +"What makes you so positive, Dick?" + +"Yesterday there were some people who tried to pass out," answered the +boy. "They sent a flag of truce to the Federals asking permission to +enter their lines, and Grant sent back word to stay quietly in the city +as he would be in possession the Fourth of July. And he will, Jeanne. +Mark my words, if Grant says so, he will be here." + +"Oh, Dick," and Jeanne clapped her hands for joy. + +"Hush! not a word," said Dick. "I am sorry for these people. They are nice +folks, and Bob will never get over it. But of course we just had to win." + +"I wonder where Snowball is," mused Jeanne, as she retired. + +The morning brought the answer. As the shelling was resumed with more +frequency than ever for the delay, a number of negroes rushed into the +cave. + +"We 'longs ter yer now," said Snowball acting as spokesman for the others. +"Hyar's me, an' Jeff, an' Feliciane, lill' missy. Missus Adele's niggas +done gone ter her folks, an' we reckoned we 'longed ter yer an' Massa +Dick." + +"To me?" exclaimed Jeanne bewildered. "Why, what in the world will I do +with you all?" + +"Dunno. Yer'll hab ter take keer ob us, I reckon," and Snowball seated +herself on the floor in happy unconsciousness of the fact that taking care +of them implied any responsibility. "You won't whip us nohow. Will yer, +lill' missy?" + +"I certainly won't do that," answered Jeanne, "but it will be a problem +to feed you." + +And so it proved. Supplies were running very low in the city. Starvation +stared the inhabitants in the face. And yet, despite the privations and +the constant play of artillery and musketry through every minute of the +day, when Minie balls were accompanied by Parrott, Canister, solid shot +and shrapnel shells, and projectiles of all kinds, the soldiers became +almost indifferent to them, and frequently sang amid the pattering of the +balls. + +One evening as they sat in front of the cave a young officer passed them +singing words to the air of the "Mocking Bird." He seemed more concerned +about the melody than he did about the shots that were flying through the +air, and they watched him admiringly. + + "''Twas at the siege of Vicksburg, + Of Vicksburg, of Vicksburg, + 'Twas at the siege of Vicksburg, + When the Parrott shells were whistling thro' the air. + Listen to the Parrott shells, + Listen to the Parrott shells; + The Parrott shells are whistling thro' the air. + + "'Oh! well will we remember, + Remember, remember, + Tough mule meat June sans November, + And the Minie balls that whistled thro' the air + Listen to the Minie balls, + Listen to the Minie balls; + The Minie balls are singing in the air.'" + +"Jeanne," said Bob, "do you hear that? Do you think you have any Yankees +that are as brave as our people?" + +"As brave perhaps," replied Jeanne, "but no braver, Bob. I think no people +could be more courageous than your people have shown themselves through +this siege. I am proud of them as Americans, but I am sorry that their +courage is shown for such a cause." + +"Ah, we'll win yet," said Bob, her eyes shining, "and then we will show +you that we can be as generous as we are brave." + +And the days passed by. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE END OF THE SIEGE + + +It was the morning of the Fourth of July. Jeanne awoke from a deep +sleep. Generally about four o'clock the shrapnel shells were thrown +more furiously than at any other time of the day. She listened for a few +moments and then turned to Bob excitedly. + +"Bob, Bob," she cried, "wake up. The shells have stopped falling." + +"What!" cried Bob, awake instantly. "Are you sure? Why it is true! How +quiet it is! What can be the matter?" + +The girls began to dress hurriedly and then went outside the cave to learn +the cause of the cessation of the firing. People everywhere were running +out of their caves to find the reason. A painful calm prevailed, and so +long had the constant firing been kept up that the stillness was actually +oppressive. + +"What is the matter?" asked Bob as an old gray-headed soldier passed on +the hillside near the cave. Stopping and touching his cap the man replied: + +"It's all over. The white flag floats from our forts. Vicksburg has +surrendered!" + +With a cry that Jeanne never forgot Bob turned and passed into the cave. +A feeling of gladness and thankfulness welled up into Jeanne's heart, +succeeded by a great wave of pity for these people who had fought so long +and well. + +"Bob," she called, softly, following after the girl and putting her arms +about her, "Bob, don't grieve so." + +"Don't," cried Bob, throwing her off passionately. "You're glad! You know +you are." + +"Yes, Bob. Just as you would be if your side had won, but dear, dear Bob, +I am sorry for you and for your brave people who have fought so well." + +"If they cheer, I'll hate them," said Bob fiercely. "Oh, Jeanne, Jeanne, +my heart is broken!" + +Jeanne's own tears were falling fast, and Bob seeing that she did not +triumph over her let her head fall upon her shoulder and thus Colonel +Peyton found them. + +His face was very pale and he seemed bent and broken. He took his daughter +into his arms but he was more in need of comfort than capable of giving it. + +"It is the beginning of the end," he said brokenly. "When Vicksburg +falls it is but the beginning of the end of the Confederacy. Our cause +is doomed. We are fighting for a forlorn hope. Oh, my country, my country!" + +He bowed his head upon his daughter's and the great tears fell fast. + +Jeanne stole from the cave and met Dick coming for her. + +"See!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Those are Federal soldiers, Jeanne. We +are in the United States once more. Look at the Court House Hill! What do +you see?" + +"The Stars and Stripes," cried Jeanne, tears of gladness rolling down her +cheeks. "Oh, Dick, how good it is to see our own flag once more!" + +"Isn't it? I could shout and sing for joy if it were not for these poor +fellows who have fought and starved so long. It is a hard thing to be on +the losing side." + +"True, for you, my boy," said Colonel Peyton joining them with Bob on his +arm. "We are fortunate in having so chivalrous a foe. There have been but +few cheers and no exultation over our poor unsuccessful fellows. Not a +jeer, nor a taunt from a Federal soldier." + +"And the river flows on as calmly as ever, and the sun still shines, yet +Vicksburg has fallen," said Bob bitterly. + +"Bear up, daughter. A soldier must learn to accept defeat as heroically as +victory," said her father. "Look, what a grand sight it is to see those +transports round the bend. See how serenely they draw up in the very teeth +of those grim batteries that were dealing death but yesterday. Now they +are silent, and their Conqueror comes boldly to their very sides." + +"What are all those people running down there for?" asked Bob. "Surely +they are not welcoming their victors!" + +"Bread, daughter. The Federal transports are full of supplies which are +brought for the starving people. It is a magnanimous foe!" + +"Transports," cried Jeanne eagerly. "I wonder--where is Snowball?'" + +"Hyar, missy," cried the girl, running forward. "Oh, missy, Massa Linkum's +men done say we all's free. Dat Fader Abe done set us niggas free way +long las' Jan'wry." + +"It may be so," cried Jeanne delightedly. "I don't know, but come and let +us see if the transport that your mother is on is down there." + +With a howl of delight Snowball went scampering down the hill toward +the boats, Jeanne following after her. The Gem City lay at anchor close +to the shore. Captain Leathers was dealing out supplies to the starving +people that surrounded the boat. + +"Captain Leathers," cried Jeanne breathlessly as they reached his side. + +"Why, bless my heart, if it isn't my little friend," cried the Captain +in surprise. "What are you doing here? Yes; Tenny's right there on deck." + +"I'll tell you all about it just as soon as I see Tenny," said Jeanne +smiling at him brightly. "Come, Snowball." + +She ran quickly to where old Tenny stood. "Tenny," she cried, "look here!" + +The old woman turned and catching sight of Snowball gave a shriek of joy. + +"It's my babby," she screamed. "Kum hyar ter yer mammy, yer bressed chile! +Kum dis bery minnit!" + +Laughing and crying she caught the girl to her capacious bosom. + +"It's the lill' missy dat bringed me," cried Snowball. "Oh, mammy, dey +says we's free!" + +"'Course we is, honey chile. Whar you been dat you didn't know dat? Massa +Linkum done say dat long ago. Whar you been?" + +"Hyar in Vicksburg. Whar you bin, mammy?" + +"Eberywhar, chile. Ef I hadn't er cooked fer de sojers dey couldn't a tuk +de city. Cap'n Leathers say so. But hyar we is. Not mindin' our manners +an' a thankin' de lill' missy fer brungin' yer ter me." + +But with the first word of thanks Jeanne darted away. She stopped for a +moment to talk to the Captain and explain her presence in the city, and +then went back to the cave where Dick awaited her. + +"Come," said the boy. "General Grant is expected in the city soon. The +Confederates are coming from the camp to be registered and paroled." + +"When can we go home, Dick?" asked the girl as they passed into the +streets again. + +"Any time now, Jeanne. I want to see the General about sending a message +to father. How quiet it seems after the bombardment! Restful, isn't it?" + +"It's heavenly," sighed Jeanne contentedly. "I am so happy, Dick, and the +silence enfolds me like a garment. To think that I will really see father +and mother once more! It has been a year lacking a few days since I saw +them. How little I thought that so much would happen before I should see +them again. How anxious they must be! But now! a few more days and I shall +be with them." + +"There comes General Grant," said Dick suddenly. + +A glittering cavalcade of Federals and rebel officers at full gallop came +down the Jackson road from the camp without. In the midst of the throng +there appeared a man, small in stature, heavily set, a broad face covered +with sandy beard, habited in a plain blue uniform of flannel with two +stars of a major-general upon his shoulders. His face was impassive but +there was the faintest gleam of satisfaction in his cold gray eyes. + + "'Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, + He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; + He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: + His truth is marching on!'" + +sang a low voice beside them. "Children, this is a glorious day." Mr. +Huntsworth's voice was tremulous with emotion and his eyes were misty. "It +is a sad spectacle to see brave men humiliated and humbled, but aside +from my sympathy for the Southerners it makes my old heart beat with joy +to be under the Stars and Stripes once more. Let us greet the General." + +He stepped forward briskly. General Grant stopped his horse as they +approached. + +"We want to give you welcome, sir," said Mr. Huntsworth extending his +hand. "We are Unionists released only by your successful siege from +'durance vile.' Welcome, sir, welcome!" + +"You must have found our shells pretty warm," said Grant shaking his +hands. "How did you live?" + +"Sir," replied the old gentleman whimsically, "you made us like the +Southerners' favorite bread: dodgers." + +Grant smiled, and then asked. "And are these Federals too?" + +"One is a soldier, the other a--what shall I call you, Jeanne? A blockade +runner or what?" + +"I am a Union girl," said Jeanne smiling into the gray eyes above her. +"A Union girl longing for home." + +"Where is your home?" asked Grant. "Suppose you three come along with me +and tell me the whole story." + +They did as he requested. The man of iron will heard them silently. Then +he spoke. + +"Get your dispatches ready," he said. "I will send them with mine to +Washington and then have them forwarded. You will take your sister home of +course." + +"I ought to get back to my regiment as quick as I can, sir." + +"Nonsense! I will write your General concerning it. If you have been in +ever since the war opened it's high time you had a furlough. I will stand +responsible. You shall all start to-morrow." + +It was a sad leave taking for Bob and Jeanne. + +"I will see you again," said Jeanne tearfully as she told Bob good-bye. +"Something tells me that we will meet again. And when the war is over, +Bob, we will have fine times together. Where do you go from here?" + +"To Richmond," answered Bob drearily. "You're not leaving us much +territory, Jeanne. We are being narrowed down. I fear, I fear----" + +With a burst of tears she ran from them and it was many a long day before +Jeanne saw her again. With saddened hearts they left the city of terraces +behind them, and at last Jeanne was en route for home. + +Home! One of the sweetest words in the English language. The brilliant +verdure of the Southland receded from view, and the more sober vegetation +of the Northland came in sight. To Jeanne's longing eyes it had never +appeared more beautiful. As they boarded a train they heard the newsboys +crying--"Victory at Gettysburg! Grand victory at Gettysburg! Paper, +sir? Paper?" + +"Here!" called Dick and Mr. Huntsworth in one breath, and they were soon +emersed in the details of the fight at Gettysburg. + +"It's the turning point of the war," said Mr. Huntsworth. "It cannot be +long surely before Lee will surrender." + +"It would seem so," cried Dick with exultation. "But who can withstand +us? We have freed the negroes! We have taken New Orleans, Vicksburg, the +mighty, has fallen, and Lee's army defeated in his invasion of free soil. +Hurrah! + + "'In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, + With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: + As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free, + While God is marching on!'" + +he broke out boyishly. Mr. Huntsworth joined in and soon another and +another took up the terrible Battle Hymn of the Republic until it rolled +in one grand volume above the rush of the train. + +"Jeanne, there's father," cried Dick as the train drew in at the +Cincinnati station. + +The girl looked out to see both Mr. and Mrs. Vance standing on the +platform watching the outcoming people eagerly. + +With a cry of thankfulness she darted forward and flung herself into her +mother's arms. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION*** + + +******* This file should be named 32993-8.txt or 32993-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/9/9/32993 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/32993-8.zip b/32993-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2aa47e --- /dev/null +++ b/32993-8.zip diff --git a/32993-h.zip b/32993-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..06a410d --- /dev/null +++ b/32993-h.zip diff --git a/32993-h/32993-h.htm b/32993-h/32993-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..58ce846 --- /dev/null +++ b/32993-h/32993-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11316 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Daughter of the Union, by Lucy Foster Madison</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + a {text-decoration:none;} + div.toc a {text-decoration:underline;} + div.loi a {text-decoration:underline;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + div.titlepage {} + div.titlepage p {text-align:center;} + .fs20 {font-size:2.0em;} + .mb50 {margin-bottom:50px;} + .i {font-style:italic;} + .fs14 {font-size:1.4em;} + .fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + .mb90 {margin-bottom:90px;} + .fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + .c {text-align:center;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; clear:both;} + td.tcol1 {text-align:right; padding-right:1ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol2 {text-align:left; padding-right:2ex; font-variant:small-caps; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol3 {text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom;} + td.center {text-align:center;} + td.fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + td.fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + td.tar {text-align:right;} + .fs18 {font-size:1.8em;} + .mb20 {margin-bottom:20px;} + span.h2fs {font-size:smaller;} + div.poetry {text-indent:0em; margin-left:2em; margin-bottom:.7em; margin-top:.7em;} + div.poetry p {margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;} + + .center { text-align:center; } + h1.pg { text-align:center; + font-weight:bold; + font-size: 190%; margin-top:0ex; margin-bottom:0ex; + clear: both; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Daughter of the Union, by Lucy Foster +Madison</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: A Daughter of the Union</p> +<p>Author: Lucy Foster Madison</p> +<p>Release Date: June 27, 2010 [eBook #32993]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.fadedpage.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class='titlepage'> +<p class='fs20 mb50'>A DAUGHTER OF<br />THE UNION</p> +<p class='i fs14'>By</p> +<p class='fs14'>LUCY FOSTER MADISON</p> +<p class='fs08 mb90'>AUTHOR OF “A COLONIAL MAID,” ETC.</p> +<p class='fs12'>GROSSET & DUNLAP<br />Publishers . . New York</p> +<p class='fs08 i'>By arrangement with The Penn Publishing Co.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c sc fs08'>Copyright 1903 by The Penn Publishing Company</p> +<p class='c fs08'>Manufactured in the U. S. A.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='TOC'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>Contents</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td class='fs08'>CHAPTER</td><td colspan='2' class='tar fs08'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>I</td><td class='tcol2'>What Girls Can Do</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_1'>5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>II</td><td class='tcol2'>A Great Awakening</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_2'>20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>III</td><td class='tcol2'>Starting for Dixie</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_3'>31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IV</td><td class='tcol2'>A Timely Renewal of Acquaintance</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_4'>41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>V</td><td class='tcol2'>Casting Bread Upon the Waters</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_5'>53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VI</td><td class='tcol2'>In Dixie Land</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_6'>70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VII</td><td class='tcol2'>The Example of a Girl</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_7'>83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Through Shot and Shell</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_8'>95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IX</td><td class='tcol2'>Jeanne Meets the Hero of New Orleans</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_9'>104</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>X</td><td class='tcol2'>An Unforeseen Result</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_10'>117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XI</td><td class='tcol2'>Cleared of Suspicion</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_11'>128</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XII</td><td class='tcol2'>An Unexpected Meeting</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_12'>137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Under Every Flower There Lurks a Serpent</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_13'>147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIV</td><td class='tcol2'>A Victim of Deceit</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_14'>158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XV</td><td class='tcol2'>Before General Butler Again</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_15'>168</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVI</td><td class='tcol2'>The Velvet Glove Conceals the Iron Hand</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_16'>178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVII</td><td class='tcol2'>Again Deceived</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_17'>189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVIII</td><td class='tcol2'>In the Enemy’s Camp</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_18'>200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIX</td><td class='tcol2'>“Bob”</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_19'>212</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XX</td><td class='tcol2'>The Arrest of a Spy</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_20'>225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXI</td><td class='tcol2'>A Surprise and an Escape</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_21'>237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXII</td><td class='tcol2'>Dick to the Fore</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_22'>250</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Recapture</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_23'>259</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIV</td><td class='tcol2'>Vicksburg</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_24'>272</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXV</td><td class='tcol2'>Madame Again</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_25'>280</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXVI</td><td class='tcol2'>Jeanne Meets Friends</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_26'>290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXVII</td><td class='tcol2'>A Prisoner of War</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_27'>302</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXVIII</td><td class='tcol2'>The Siege Begins</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_28'>314</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIX</td><td class='tcol2'>Madame for the Last Time</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_29'>324</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXX</td><td class='tcol2'>The End of the Siege</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_30'>334</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs18 mb20'>A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION</p> + +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span><a id='link_1'></a>CHAPTER I<br /><span class='h2fs'>WHAT GIRLS CAN DO</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>That</span> finishes everything,” exclaimed +Jeanne Vance, placing a neatly folded handkerchief +in a basket. “And oh, girls, what a +little bit of a pile it makes!”</p> + +<p>The five girls drew their chairs closer to the +basket and gazed ruefully at its contents.</p> + +<p>“How many handkerchiefs are there, +Jeanne?” asked one.</p> + +<p>“There are fifty handkerchiefs and five +pairs of socks. It seemed like a great many +when we took them to make, but what do +they amount to after all?”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t much that girls can do anyway,” +spoke another. “If we were boys we +could go to the war, or, if we were women we +could be nurses. I don’t like being just a +girl!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I wouldn’t mind it so much if there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +was anything I could do,” remarked Jeanne +who seemed to be the leader. “But when +Dick is in the army, father in government +service, and mother at work all day in the +Relief Association, it is pretty hard not to be +able to do anything but hem handkerchiefs +and make socks.”</p> + +<p>“A great many persons don’t even do +that,” said Nellie Drew, the youngest girl of +the party. “And they are grown-up people, +too.”</p> + +<p>“Then the more shame to them,” cried +Jeanne indignantly. “In such a war as ours +every man, woman and child in the United +States ought to be interested. I don’t see how +any one can help being so. For my part, I +am going to do all that I can for the soldiers +if it is only to hem handkerchiefs.”</p> + +<p>“What else could we do? We can’t help +being girls, and Miss Thornton was pleased +when we asked for more work. She said that +our last socks were done as well as women +could do them. I am sure that that is something.”</p> + +<p>“That is true,” admitted Jeanne soberly. +“I have heard mother say that some of the +things were so poorly made that the ladies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +were ashamed to send them to the front, but +that often the need was so urgent that they +were compelled to do it. I am willing to +knit socks and to hem handkerchiefs, but I +would like to do something else too. There +is so much to be done that I don’t feel as if I +were doing all that I might do.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t either, Jeanne, and if you know +of anything we will gladly help to do it,” +cried the girls together.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know of anything else, girls, but +maybe I can think of something,” said Jeanne, +looking at the earnest faces before her.</p> + +<p>It was a bright May afternoon in the year +of 1862, and the great conflict between the +North and the South was waging fiercely. +The terrible battle of Shiloh of the month before +had dispelled some of the illusions of the +North and the people were awakening to the +fact that a few victories were not sufficient to +overthrow the Confederacy.</p> + +<p>Aid societies under the United States Sanitary +Commission for the relief of the soldiers +were springing up all over the Union, and +patriotism glowed brightly inflaming the +hearts of rich and poor alike. This zeal was +not confined to the old but animated the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +minds of the young as well. Numerous instances +are recorded of little girls who had not +yet attained their tenth year denying themselves +the luxuries and toys they had long +desired and toiling with a patience and perseverance +wholly foreign to childish nature, to +procure or to make something of value for +their country’s defenders.</p> + +<p>Our group of girls was only one among +many banded together for the purpose of +doing whatever they could for the relief of +the boys in blue, and their young hearts were +overwhelmed with a sense of their impotence. +Jeanne Vance, a tall, slender, fair-haired girl +of sixteen, serious and thoughtful beyond her +years, was the leader in every patriotic enterprise +of her associates.</p> + +<p>Her father since the beginning of the war +had devoted himself exclusively to furthering +the interests of the government; her mother +was a prominent worker in The Woman’s +Central Relief Association, giving her whole +time to collecting supplies and money to be +forwarded to the front and providing work +for the wives, mothers and daughters of the +soldiers. Her brother, Richard Vance, had +responded to the first call of President Lincoln +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +to arms: thus the girl was surrounded by influences +that filled her being to the utmost +with intense loyalty to the Union.</p> + +<p>As she looked at the eagerly waiting girls +around her a sudden inspiration came to her.</p> + +<p>“Let’s give a fair, girls. We could make +pretty things to sell and I am willing that all +my toys and games shall be sold too. Perhaps +we could get a great deal of money that way, +and I am sure that even a little would be +welcome.”</p> + +<p>“But how about the socks and handkerchiefs? +Shall we give up making them?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed! We must keep right on +with those, but this fair will be all our own +effort. I believe that we will feel as if we +were really doing something worth while if +we can manage it. What do you say?”</p> + +<p>“It is the very thing,” cried they. “When +shall we begin?”</p> + +<p>“This afternoon,” said Jeanne energetically. +“There is no time like the present. This is +May. We ought to be ready by the last of +June. We can do a great deal in that time if +we work hard.”</p> + +<p>“And we can get our mothers to help us +too,” suggested Nellie Drew.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span>“We ought not to do that, Nellie,” replied +Jeanne seriously. “They are so busy themselves, +and it would not be truly ours if we +have the older ones to help. Don’t you think +we ought to do just the very best we can without +them?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, yes!” chorused the girls.</p> + +<p>“I can make pretty pin cushions,” said a +girl about Jeanne’s age. “I will make as +many of them as I can.”</p> + +<p>“I can do pen wipers very nicely, mamma +says,” spoke Nellie modestly.</p> + +<p>“Mother always lets me help dress the +dolls for Christmas,” cried another.</p> + +<p>“Where will we have it, Jeanne?”</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked puzzled for a moment. “I’ll +tell you, girls. Let’s have it on our steps. +We’ll have a big card telling all about it +printed and put up. Then people will stop +and buy things when they know it is for the +soldiers.”</p> + +<p>“On your steps,” cried Nellie. “Oh, +Jeanne, will your mother let you? It is +right on Fifth Avenue.”</p> + +<p>“Why, mother won’t care!” answered +Jeanne, surprised at the question. “Fifth +Avenue is the best place in New York for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +anything of the sort, because so many well-to-do +people pass, and they will be sure to be +generous for the soldiers’ sake.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy, Jeanne, where did you learn so +much about things?” gasped Nellie in admiration. +“I wouldn’t have thought of +that.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Jeanne, flushing at the praise, +“I hear mother and the ladies talking, you +know. They say that such things must +always be taken into consideration. If you +have anything to sell, or you want money, +you must go where there is money to be had. +I know the ladies do that in their fairs.”</p> + +<p>“Then of course that is the way to do,” +remarked a tall girl decidedly. “Let’s take +our handkerchiefs and socks to the Relief +rooms and begin right away.”</p> + +<p>The girls set to work joyfully, and labored +zealously for their fair. Their parents were +amused at their earnestness, but seeing them +happy and contented encouraged them in +their efforts. The days were busy ones, but +the knowledge that every boat and train was +bringing hundreds of wounded soldiers into +the hospitals from the disastrous Yorktown +campaign spurred them to greater exertion, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +until at last they declared themselves ready to +open the sale.</p> + +<p>Handkerchiefs, aprons, homemade candies, +dolls, with all the paraphernalia belonging to +them, pin cushions, pen wipers, and books, +presented a goodly appearance as they were +spread enticingly upon the steps of the mansion +in lower Fifth Avenue. A large card, +which Mr. Vance had had printed for them +with the inscription, “For the relief of our +wounded and sick soldiers. Please buy,” +reared its head imposingly over the articles, +and five little maids, neatly dressed, stood in +expectant attitude eagerly watching each +passer-by in the hope of a customer.</p> + +<p>The placard caught the eyes of an elderly +man, and the little girls could scarcely conceal +their delight as he paused before them.</p> + +<p>“Well, my little ladies, what have we +here?” he asked kindly. “For the soldiers, +eh? Who put you up to this?”</p> + +<p>“No one, sir,” answered Jeanne as the +other girls shrank back abashed. “We are +doing it ourselves to help buy things for the +boys.”</p> + +<p>“But who made the articles?” queried the +old gentleman. “I am a poor judge of such +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +things, but these handkerchiefs seem to be +very neatly done. They are not of your +making, I presume.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed they are,” answered the girl +earnestly. “We have done all the sewing, +and made the candies. The toys were our +own, given to us by our parents, but we +would rather have the money to give to the +soldiers, so they are for sale too. We girls +have made everything but the toys and the +books.”</p> + +<p>“But why,” persisted he good-naturedly. +“The government provides for its soldiers, +and there are women and men to do what the +government doesn’t do. Why should you interest +yourselves in such things? The war +doesn’t concern you!”</p> + +<p>“Whatever concerns our country concerns +us,” answered Jeanne with dignity. “We are +only girls, sir, and cannot do much, but what +we can do to help those who are fighting for +us we will do.”</p> + +<p>“Nobly said, my little maid. I was anxious +to see if this was a mere whim of the +moment, or if you really were actuated by +patriotic motives. You have taught me that +girls can feel for their country as well as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +grown people. How much are those handkerchiefs?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar a dozen, sir.”</p> + +<p>“H’m’m!” mused the old gentleman drawing +forth a well filled pocketbook. “Too +cheap by far. Give me a couple of dozen.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne obeyed with alacrity and carefully +wrapped the handkerchiefs in tissue paper. +“I can’t change this bill, sir,” she said as the +old gentleman gave her a twenty dollar note.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want you to, my little girl,” returned +he kindly. “Take it for the cause.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried Jeanne her eyes filling with +glad tears. “How good you are! How good +you are!”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! It’s a pity if I cannot give a +little money when you girls have given so +much time and work. Good-day, my little +patriots. Success to you in your undertaking. +You may see me again.”</p> + +<p>“Good-day, sir,” cried the girls together. +“And thank you ever so much.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, girls,” gasped Jeanne delightedly. +“Isn’t it fine? Twenty dollars! I didn’t +think we’d make more than that altogether.”</p> + +<p>“Here come more customers, Jeanne,” cried +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +Nellie excitedly. “Oh, but I believe that we +are going to have luck!”</p> + +<p>It was but the beginning. There was little +leisure for the girls after that. Their evident +zeal and earnestness impressed the passers-by +whose hearts were already aglow with sympathy +for the soldiers, and bills and shinplasters +poured in upon the little merchants until +at dusk not an article remained upon the +steps. Then, tired but happy, they assembled +in Mrs. Vance’s parlor to count the proceeds.</p> + +<p>“Two hundred dollars!” exclaimed Mr. +Vance as the girls announced the result in excited +tones. “Why, girls, this is wonderful! +The government would better turn over its +finances into your hands.”</p> + +<p>“You blessed dears,” cried Mrs. Vance, “it +will do so much good! You don’t know how +much that will buy, but you shall go with the +committee and see for yourselves.”</p> + +<p>“We have done well,” said Jeanne in congratulatory +tones.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe that grown people could do +any better,” and Nellie Drew gave her head +a proud toss.</p> + +<p>“There’s a little lame boy asking to see +Miss Jeanne, ma’am,” announced a servant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +entering at this moment. “Shall I show him +up?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Susan. Who is it, Jeanne?”</p> + +<p>“It must be Eddie Farrell. He lives down +on Fourth Avenue. His mother washes for +Nellie’s mother, and they are awfully poor. +He came by while we were fixing our things +and we told him all about what we were doing +and why we were doing it. How do you +do, Eddie?” as the door opened to admit the +visitor.</p> + +<p>A little fellow not over ten years old, with +great blue eyes that were just now alight with +eagerness, paused abruptly as he caught sight +of Mr. and Mrs. Vance. He made a pathetic +looking figure as he stood in the doorway. +He was deplorably lame and leaned on a pair +of rude crutches for support, balancing in +some way known only to himself, a long +bundle under his arm.</p> + +<p>“Have a chair, my boy,” said Mr. Vance, +kindly noticing his embarrassment. “Did +you wish to see Jeanne?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.” The boy sat down and then +opened his bundle disclosing a pair of well +made crutches. “The girls told me what +they wuz doing fer the sogers and I’ve been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +thinking ever since what I could do. I didn’t +have no money ner nuffin’ ter give ’cepting +these crutches. I thought mebbe they’d do +some pore feller some good what ’ud have his +leg cut off.”</p> + +<p>“But where did you get them?” queried +Mr. Vance.</p> + +<p>“They wuz mine, sir. Bill, a sailor man I +knows, he spliced on some pieces to make ’em +longer, and there they are, sir.”</p> + +<p>“My lad,” and Mr. Vance laid his hand +softly on the boy’s head, “it is a great deal for +you to give. You need them yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll get along all right,” said the boy eagerly. +“’Deed I will, Mr. Vance. See, Bill he +rigged me up a pair that’ll do me all right, an’ +I’d like ter help some pore feller.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Vance gazed pityingly at the rude substitutes +which the boy held up, and then +looked at the crutches so deftly lengthened. +His voice was husky as he spoke:</p> + +<p>“It is a great gift. More than you should +give.”</p> + +<p>“It ain’t nuthin’,” answered the lad. “I +feel fer the feller that is born with two good +legs an’ then loses one of them.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Vance nodded understandingly. Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +Vance’s eyes were full to overflowing as she +stroked the boy’s hair gently.</p> + +<p>“We’ll write a little note and tie on the +crutches,” she said. “Then whoever gets +them will know who gave them.”</p> + +<p>“That will be fine,” cried the lad gleefully. +“I’m so glad you’ll take them. I wuz afraid +mebbe it wouldn’t be enough ter give.”</p> + +<p>“It is more than we have done,” said +Jeanne as soon as she was able to speak.</p> + +<p>“Then good-bye,” and Eddie arose. “I’ll +run back and tell mother.” He nodded to +them and left the room, his face aglow with +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“We haven’t done anything,” said Jeanne +emphatically. “We didn’t give a thing we +could not do without. Oh, I feel so mean!”</p> + +<p>She looked at the girls tearfully, then drew +a slender chain from her throat, and detached +the gold piece which was suspended from it. +“There!” she said, putting it with the bills +on the table. “Uncle Joe gave me that before +he went to the army. After he was +killed at Shiloh I thought I would never part +with it, but I am going to let it go for the +soldiers too.”</p> + +<p>“It is good for us,” said Nellie wiping her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +eyes. “We were awfully puffed up over this +fair. I was beginning to think that we had +done something great.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Vance laughed.</p> + +<p>“You need not feel so bad, girls,” he said. +“If it had not been for you that poor little +fellow wouldn’t have thought of giving his +crutches.”</p> + +<p>“I wish he had some though,” remarked +Jeanne wistfully.</p> + +<p>“Make your mind easy on that score, my +dear, I’m going to look after that boy.”</p> + +<p>“And meantime you girls can go with me +to the Association to carry the money and the +crutches, and we’ll tell the ladies all about +it,” said Mrs. Vance.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span><a id='link_2'></a>CHAPTER II<br /><span class='h2fs'>A GREAT UNDERTAKING</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>For</span> a time affairs went on in their usual +way, and the girls contented themselves with +hemming towels and handkerchiefs and making +socks. That is, all the girls save Jeanne +Vance. With her the desire was stronger +than ever to do something more than she had +done.</p> + +<p>“What makes you so thoughtful, Jeanne?” +asked her father one evening looking up from +his paper. “You are as still as a mouse. +Come, and tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the country,” said Jeanne settling herself +comfortably on his lap and laying her +head on his shoulder. “I was thinking about +our army and how much there was to be done +for it.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that you think too much +about the war,” observed her father soberly. +“It is not good for you.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t help it, father. Dick’s letters make +me, and the work that you and mother do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +keeps it always before me. I am the only +one who doesn’t do much.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure that you carried that fair +through admirably, and have made a number +of articles for the soldiers. Best of all you +are looking after yourself so well that your +mother and I can devote our whole time to +the cause. And that is a great deal, my little +girl.”</p> + +<p>“But I should like to do something else,” +persisted Jeanne. “It doesn’t seem as if I +were helping one bit.”</p> + +<p>“Very few of us can see the result of our +labors. If you were in the army it would be +the same way. A soldier often has to obey +orders for which he can see no reason, but his +disobedience might cause the loss of a battle. +We are all of us part of a great whole striving +for the same end. If each one does his +part all will be well. If every little girl in +the country would do as much as you are doing, +the amount of work accomplished would +be startling.”</p> + +<p>“If I were a boy I could do more,” sighed +Jeanne. “It is very hard to be ‘only a girl,’ +father.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Vance laughed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span>“But since you are one, Jeanne, try to be +contented. I am very thankful for my +daughter if she is ‘only a girl.’”</p> + +<p>“You are troubled too,” observed Jeanne +presently, noting a look of anxiety on her +father’s face.</p> + +<p>“Yes, child; I am.”</p> + +<p>“Could you tell me about it, father? Perhaps +it would help you. I feel ever so much +better since I have talked with you.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that you cannot help me, +child. If only Dick were here,” and he +sighed.</p> + +<p>“Could I if I were a boy?” asked the girl, +wistfully.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied Mr. Vance unthinkingly. +“If you were a boy, Jeanne, with the same +amount of brightness and common sense that +you now have, I would be strongly tempted +to send you forth on some private business.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, father!” Jeanne sat bolt upright. +“Send me anyway. I am sure that I could +do it just as well as a boy.”</p> + +<p>“But this would necessitate a journey into +the enemy’s country. A bright boy could go +through all right if he would exercise his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +wits, but a tender, delicate girl like you! +Why, I couldn’t think of it!”</p> + +<p>“I could do just as well as a boy,” declared +Jeanne with conviction. “I am sure that I +could. Please let me try, father.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry that I spoke of it, child. I +will tell you just what the service is, and you +will see the impossibility of any girl undertaking +it. In the cities both North and +South there are men whose duty it is to look +after certain private matters for the government. +In our communications with each +other we must be very guarded. We do not +dare to risk even the mails, because in almost +every department of the service there are +traitors. In some mysterious manner the +enemy becomes aware of all our plans. +Therefore we have tried and trusted men who +are our go betweens. On some occasions we +have employed boys because they could pass +through the lines of the armies without being +suspected of carrying important information. +But as it is a hazardous business we use the +boys only when there is no one else to send. +Just at present our men are all out, and even +the few boys who are ordinarily available are +not on hand. That is why I spoke as I did.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span>“Where would the boy have to go?” +queried Jeanne, who had listened attentively.</p> + +<p>“To New Orleans, dear. It is a long distance, +and would be a perilous journey. You +see, Jeanne, how I am trusting you. You +will be careful not to repeat anything I say.”</p> + +<p>“I understand perfectly, father. You need +not fear when you tell me anything. You +could not be useful if others knew of your +affairs.”</p> + +<p>“That is it precisely, my daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Is the errand important, father?”</p> + +<p>“Very.” Mr. Vance thought she saw the +impossibility of going and therefore spoke +more freely than he otherwise would have +done. “I ought to send a messenger not +later than day after to-morrow with the documents, +but I fear that I shall have to let the +matter rest until some of the men come in, +and then it may be too late.”</p> + +<p>“Father, doesn’t Uncle Ben live in New +Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jeanne; why?”</p> + +<p>“Why couldn’t I go down to see him, and +carry these papers hidden about me? The +trains are still running, aren’t they?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said her father thoughtfully; “but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +those in the Southern States are under Confederate +control, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Well, suppose I were to take the train +from here to St. Louis,” mapping the route on +her lap, “then from there I could go down +the Mississippi on a steamboat. St. Louis is +for the Union, and New Orleans belongs to us +now too. I don’t see much danger in that, +father.”</p> + +<p>“It sounds all right, little girl. The only +flaw lies in the fact that Vicksburg is not +ours. If it were then the matter could be +easily arranged.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think that it will be ours soon, +father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed,” replied Mr. Vance with conviction. +“With Farragut and Porter on the +river and this new man Grant who is making +such a record in charge of the land forces it +will not be long before Vicksburg will share +the fate of Forts Henry and Donelson and +Island No. 10. Indeed,” added he, for Mr. +Vance in common with many others held the +view that the war could not be of long duration, +“I feel sure that McClellan will soon +enter Richmond and that will virtually close +the war. It is only a question of days now +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +before we shall see the end of this rebellion. +The administration is of the same opinion, because +it has ceased to enlist men for the +army.”</p> + +<p>“Then, father, it seems to me that there +would be no risk in performing this service +for you. I feel sure that I could carry your +papers safely to New Orleans. It is not as if +the country all belonged to the rebels. There +would be only one place to pass that is theirs: +Vicksburg. I know that our men can easily +go by one place,” she added confidently.</p> + +<p>“Your manner of taking hold of the matter +almost persuades me to let you try it, Jeanne,” +and Mr. Vance regarded his daughter with a +new light in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Do,” said Jeanne as calmly as she could, +realizing that if she would carry her point +she must be very matter-of-fact. “You see, +father, no one would suspect a girl of carrying +papers.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but that you are right, +Jeanne. Still, I would not consider the thing +for an instant if my need were not so great. +Should the papers fall into the rebels’ hands, +not only would they secure important information +but they would also get the names of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +men whose death would pay the penalty of +discovery.”</p> + +<p>“I understand,” said the girl gravely. +“But the rebels shall never get them, father. +I will destroy them first. They must be concealed +about my clothing in such a manner +that even if I were searched they could not be +discovered. Not that I think that I shall +be,” she added hastily as a look of alarm +flitted over her father’s face, “but it is just as +well to be prepared for emergencies.”</p> + +<p>“What are you two plotting?” asked Mrs. +Vance entering the room. “You have been +talking so earnestly that I thought that you +were settling the affairs of the nation.”</p> + +<p>“We have been,” answered Jeanne gaily. +“I am going to New Orleans on business for +father.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Richard,” came from Mrs. Vance in a +wailing cry. “Not my girl too! I have +given my boy! Leave me my daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Mother!” Jeanne sprang to her outstretched +arms where she was folded close to +the mother’s heart. “You don’t understand. +There is no danger. Who would harm a girl +like me?”</p> + +<p>“She shall not go, Dora, if you do not consent,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +spoke Mr. Vance comfortingly. “My +need for a messenger was so urgent that I +spoke of it before Jeanne, and the little witch +has beguiled me into thinking that she is the +very one for the business.”</p> + +<p>“Why of course I am,” cried Jeanne in decided +tones. “Let’s sit down and talk it over.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t like it,” said Mrs. Vance after the +matter had been explained. “I am afraid +that something will happen to you.”</p> + +<p>“But, mother, what could happen? Even +if I were to fall into the hands of the Confederates +what could they do to me? Men don’t +make war on girls.”</p> + +<p>“I know that the Southern people are +counted chivalrous,” answered Mrs. Vance, +“but soldiers are usually rough fellows, and I +would not like you to be brought into contact +with them even though they were our own +boys.”</p> + +<p>“Dick is a soldier, and he isn’t a bit rough. +They are all somebody’s sons, mother. I +thought that you liked soldiers.”</p> + +<p>“I do,” assented Mrs. Vance wearily, “but +I don’t like the thought of sending you where +there is a chance of fighting. No one knows +what might happen.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span>“Dick has to take a great many chances, +and why should not I risk a little for my +country? Wouldn’t you be willing to give +your life for it, mother?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” began the mother.</p> + +<p>“And I am your child,” cried Jeanne, kissing +her. “I can’t help it, mother. It’s in +the blood, and blood will tell, you know. +Haven’t I heard you and father many a time +relate what great things our ancestors did in +the Revolution? Well, you really can’t expect +anything else from their descendants.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose not,” and Mrs. Vance stifled a +sigh. “If it really would help you, Richard.”</p> + +<p>“It really would, Dora. If Jeanne can +carry these papers to New Orleans she is not +only worth her weight in gold but she will do +the government a great service. She is energetic, +resourceful and self-reliant. I believe +that she can get through without injury to +herself or I should not consider the thing a +moment. As she says, why should harm +come to a girl? She would not be suspected +where older people would be subjected to the +most searching scrutiny. The more that I +think of it, the more favorably does the idea +strike me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span>“Then I must consent,” Mrs. Vance smiled +faintly though her face was very white. “My +country demands much of me, Richard.”</p> + +<p>“It does, Dora. But please God when this +rebellion is put down we shall have such +peace as the country has never enjoyed. Let +us hope for the best, dear.”</p> + +<p>“When do I start, father?” broke in +Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“I think to-morrow night. The sooner the +better. I will see about your transportation +in the morning, and try to arrange to send +you straight through. Now, little girl, you +must say good-night because we must be up +bright and early. There is a great deal to be +done to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night,” said Jeanne obediently, and +kissing each tenderly she retired to her room.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span><a id='link_3'></a>CHAPTER III<br /><span class='h2fs'>STARTING FOR DIXIE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> next day passed all too quickly for the +parents, but not for Jeanne. She went about +her preparations with an uplifted mien and a +solemnity of manner that at another time +would have been amusing, but which under +the circumstances went to her mother’s heart.</p> + +<p>“In this petticoat, dear, I have quilted the +documents,” said Mrs. Vance as she dressed +her for her departure. “It may be a little +heavy, but you need not wear so many skirts +as you otherwise would, and perhaps it will +not be too warm. See how nicely it holds out +your dress. It almost answers the purpose of +a pair of hoops.”</p> + +<p>“Am I not to wear my hoops, mother?”</p> + +<p>“No, child. They are sometimes in the +way, and as you have not yet learned to manage +them well, it would be best not. Your +frock hangs out in quite the approved style as +it is.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne glanced down at her attire complacently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span>“It does look stylish,” she admitted. “I +wonder if the rebel girls wear hoops.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say they do,” answered the mother +rather absently. Then overcome by a rush of +emotion she caught the girl to her. “Oh, +Jeanne, I wonder if I am doing right to let +you go! What if some harm should come to +you?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry, mother,” and Jeanne soothed +her gently. “I feel sure that I will get +through safely.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not be easy until I hold you in my +arms again,” said Mrs. Vance mournfully. +“But I must not make it hard for you to go, +dear. You will be careful, Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, mother.”</p> + +<p>“And, child, you are loyal, I know, but you +are very young. You are going into the +enemy’s country, where disloyalty to the +Union will be the common utterance. Are +you strong enough to bear all that you will +hear and still retain that fidelity unimpaired?”</p> + +<p>“Mother!” Jeanne spoke reproachfully.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I know that your heart is devoted +to your country, but older ones than you have +been drawn from their allegiance. I only +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +give this as a caution because you have always +been where nothing but the Union has been +talked. Now you are apt to hear just as much +on the other side, and there may be trials that +will test your strength severely. I cannot but +fear that all will not go so smoothly as your +father thinks. But, Jeanne, whatever comes, +bear yourself as a true American. Swerve +not from the allegiance due to your country. +Let come what will, even death itself, suffer it +rather than for one moment to be false to your +country. They are my last words to you, my +daughter. Be true to your country. Will +you remember?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the girl solemnly. “Whatever +comes I will be true to my country.”</p> + +<p>“I have made you this flag,” continued +Mrs. Vance, drawing a small United States +flag from the folds of her dress. “I began it +some time ago as a surprise for your birthday, +but finished it last night for you to take with +you. Keep it about your person, and each +night look upon it and pray for the success of +the Union.”</p> + +<p>“And it is really my own,” exclaimed +Jeanne, delightedly, pressing the silken folds +to her lips. “It makes me so happy to have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +it, mother. I never had one before that was +all mine. See,” folding it and placing it in +the bosom of her dress, “I will wear it over +my heart that no disloyal thought may find +entrance there. I will bring it back to you +unsullied.”</p> + +<p>Her mother pressed her again to her breast.</p> + +<p>“I believe it, dear. Now kiss me, Jeanne. +I hear your father coming for you. Oh, ’tis +hard to let you go!” She clasped her convulsively +to her, and caressed her repeatedly.</p> + +<p>“Are you ready, Jeanne?” asked Mr. Vance +entering. “We have not much time left.”</p> + +<p>“I am all ready, father,” answered Jeanne +quickly catching up her satchel. “Aren’t +you coming with us, mother?”</p> + +<p>“No, dear;” Mrs. Vance struggled bravely +with her emotion. “I am going to let your +father have you for the last few moments +alone. I have had you all day, you know.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne ran back to her for another embrace.</p> + +<p>“My child! My child!” whispered the +mother passionately. “There! Go while I +can bear it.”</p> + +<p>Unable to speak Jeanne followed her father +to the carriage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span>“I am afraid that I have acted hastily in +letting you undertake this matter,” said her +father, drawing her to him. “In one way the +fates are propitious. The papers to-day announce +the fall of Vicksburg. That leaves +the Mississippi entirely open and reduces the +danger. Still it may be exposing you to some +risk, and it now seems to me unwise to saddle +so great a responsibility upon so young a girl. +I wish there was some one else to send.”</p> + +<p>“Father, I am glad to be of service. I am +so proud to think that you have so trusted +me. Now I am really doing something for +the country. And I will not betray your trust.”</p> + +<p>“I know that you will be as true as steel,” +answered Mr. Vance tenderly. “I do not fear +that you will betray my confidence, but let +me caution you for yourself. Where have you +concealed the papers?”</p> + +<p>“Mother quilted them in my petticoat,” answered +Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Then try to forget where they are. I was +once on the train where a girl was traveling +alone. She had evidently been warned against +pickpockets, for ever and anon she would start +up and clap her hand to her pocket. Do you +see the point, daughter?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span>“It showed plainly where she kept her +money,” replied Jeanne promptly.</p> + +<p>“Exactly. If you keep fingering the petticoat +it will show to every one that there is +something concealed there. Therefore forget +all about the papers if you can. Act as naturally +as a little girl would going to visit her +uncle. There must of course be a reason for +your going and I have provided for that in +this way. Quinine is a contraband article and +highly prized in the South. This basket has +a false bottom. Above is a lunch for your +journey and underneath a quantity of quinine. +You may get through without falling into the +Confederates’ hands but it is just as well to be +prepared for emergencies, as you remarked +last night. Should you happen to be taken +by them and they question you too closely, +finally confess about the quinine. It will be +a point in your favor that you have smuggled +it through the Union lines. Should they take +it no matter. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly.”</p> + +<p>“I have secured transportation to Memphis, +Tennessee,” continued Mr. Vance. “It brings +you closer to New Orleans and leaves a shorter +distance to be traversed by water. You will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +have to change cars twice. Once at Washington +City which you can do easily as you have +been there a number of times. The other is +at Cincinnati, Ohio. Do you think you can +manage it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, of course I can,” said Jeanne proudly. +“It isn’t as if I had never been anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that makes a difference,” assented +her father. “Yet, my child, remember that +before you have been accompanied by either +your mother or me. Now you will have to +rely entirely upon yourself. This is a letter +for Commodore Porter who is a friend of +mine, and who is somewhere on the Mississippi. +Ask for him as soon as you reach +Memphis. If he is not there there will be +others on our side who will carry you down +the river after reading the letter. If at any +time you are in doubt what to do go to the +hospitals. There are always women there who +will gladly give whatever aid you may need. +And here is money.”</p> + +<p>“Mother gave me some,” interrupted Jeanne +who had listened with the closest attention.</p> + +<p>“Yes; that is in your purse, which is in +the satchel, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span>“Well, take this also. I had this bag made +to hold it.” He put a roll of bills into an oilskin +bag and drew the cord so that the opening +closed tightly together. “Wear that about +your neck, child, and keep it hidden under +your dress,” he said. “Keep that always +about you as a reserve fund. So long as you +have money you can get along pretty well. +Take out what you need from time to time, +carrying only a small amount in your purse. +Above all beware of talking too freely to +strangers. Now for the final instructions: +you are going to New Orleans to visit your +Uncle Ben. When you reach there ask him +to direct you to Mr. <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––––</span>,” here he whispered +in her ear. “Speak that name to no +person. When you have delivered the papers +into his hands your duty is done. Stay with +your uncle until you hear from me. I will +write you how to come home. Now, Jeanne, +I think that this is all I have to say. If anything +should happen that these arrangements +fail, don’t run any danger but return home. +You see that I am leaving a great deal to +your judgment. Can you remember everything +that I have said?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. And you may be sure that I will do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +just as you tell me. It seems to me that +everything has been thought of and that +there is no chance of failing.”</p> + +<p>“Sometimes the best laid plans are +thwarted,” said her father gravely. “It may +not be a very wise thing to send my daughter +on such an errand, but you are such a sensible +little thing that I feel as if you would succeed.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” said Jeanne determinedly. “I +want to be worthy of my name, father. Did +not another Jeanne not much older than I +lead the Dauphin of France to a crown? +Surely then I can do this thing which is +small in comparison.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid we did wrong in giving you +such a name,” remarked her father smilingly. +“How full of the martial spirit you are, +Jeanne. I believe that you would undertake +the capture of Jeff Davis if I asked you to.”</p> + +<p>“I would,” exclaimed the girl with a look +that boded ill for the rebel president. “Perhaps +we will try it yet.”</p> + +<p>“We will get through this affair first, my +dear. Here we are at the station. We’ll have +to make a run for that train.”</p> + +<p>They had taken a ferry during the conversation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +and by this time had reached Jersey +City. Running through the gates they +boarded the train just as the signal was given +to pull out.</p> + +<p>“My little girl, good-bye,” murmured Mr. +Vance, clasping her to him for a brief second. +“God bless and keep you, Jeanne. May He +bring you safely back. Be brave,” he added, +as he saw Jeanne’s lips quivering.</p> + +<p>“I will,” sobbed Jeanne, breaking down +completely as her father started away. “Oh, +father, kiss me just once more.”</p> + +<p>“Is it too much for you, my little girl?” +Mr. Vance held her closely. “You need not +go, Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>“I want to. I am all right,” gasped +Jeanne, controlling herself by an effort. +“Now go, father, dear. See how brave I am.”</p> + +<p>She smiled up at him through her tears. +Mr. Vance regarded her anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Go,” whispered Jeanne as the train began +to move. Hastily her father left her. Jeanne +leaned from the window and waved her hand +as long as she could see him. But soon the +train rounded a curve and he was lost to view. +Then leaning back in her seat she gave herself +up to her tears.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span><a id='link_4'></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><span class='h2fs'>A TIMELY RENEWAL OF ACQUAINTANCE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Jeanne</span> sobbed unrestrainedly for some +time. A sense of forlornness oppressed her, +and the magnitude of the task she had undertaken +weighed upon her spirits. As Mr. +Vance had said she had never traveled alone +before, and now that she had actually started +upon the journey a thousand fears assailed +her. The idea of being engaged upon a +mission that involved something of risk had +seemed a noble thing, and easy of accomplishment +in her own home. Here, lacking the +sustaining presence of her parents, and the +relaxation after the excitement of the day, +made the enterprise seem formidable indeed. +So absorbed was she in her meditations that +she had not noticed the other occupants of +the coach, but presently there was borne in +upon her senses the sound of singing.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what is it?” she exclaimed with a +nervous start.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span>“Some soldiers on their way to Washington,” +answered a lady who sat behind her.</p> + +<p>Jeanne’s interest was aroused at once, and +she looked about her. In the rear of the car +were a number of soldiers clad in blue. They +seemed in high spirits and were singing +lustily:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘Yes, we’ll rally round the flag, boys,</p> +<p> We’ll rally once again,</p> +<p>Shouting the battle cry of freedom;</p> +<p>We will rally from the hillside,</p> +<p> We will rally from the plain,</p> +<p>Shouting the battle cry of freedom.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>“They are going to the war with a song +upon their lips, perhaps to be killed, while I +am afraid because I am alone,” mused Jeanne, +her lip curling in self-contempt. “I don’t +believe that girls amount to much after all.”</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘We are marching to the field, boys,</p> +<p> Going to the fight,</p> +<p>Shouting the battle cry of freedom!</p> +<p>And we’ll bear the glorious Stars</p> +<p> Of the Union and the Right,</p> +<p>Shouting the battle cry of freedom.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>“I will be brave,” and the girl sat up very +straight. “I will not be afraid any more, for +I, too, am battling for the right. I am just as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +truly serving my country as they are, and I +will be just as brave. Besides, father would be +sorry if he knew that I felt so bad.”</p> + +<p>Drying her eyes she listened attentively to +the soldiers as they sang, one after another, the +martial airs that had become so popular since +the breaking out of the war. After a little +time they struck up “The Star Spangled +Banner,” and then there followed a scene that +the girl never forgot. Men, women and children +caught the enthusiasm and, rising to +their feet, joined in the song. Jeanne sang +too, as she had never sung before. The +words held a new meaning for her. She felt +once more an exaltation of spirit and a kinship +with these brave fellows who were willing +to give their lives for their country. +What was danger, disease or life itself, if she +could be of service in ever so small a way?</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘’Tis the Star Spangled Banner,</p> +<p> O long may it wave</p> +<p>O’er the land of the free</p> +<p> And the home of the brave.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>A mighty shout went up as the final chorus +was rendered, and three cheers for the flag +were given with a vim that mingled musically +with the rush and roar of the train. Flushed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +and breathless Jeanne sank back into her seat, +her eyes shining, her cheeks glowing, her +whole being thrilled with patriotic fervor. +She was no longer fearful and lonely, but +eager and ready to do and dare all things +needful for the success of her mission.</p> + +<p>And so when Washington was reached the +girl took up her satchel with quite the air of +an old traveler and, accosting an official, asked +about her train with the utmost self-possession.</p> + +<p>She had but a short time to wait before she +was once more flying across the country en +route for Cincinnati. The night passed without +incident. The journey was tiresome but +so uneventful that she became imbued with +confidence in her ability to travel alone and +made her change to the Memphis and Charleston +Railroad for Memphis at Cincinnati without +trouble.</p> + +<p>The day had been very warm and as Jeanne +took her seat in the coach she heaved a sigh +of relief as she saw the sun sinking to his +rest.</p> + +<p>“It will be cooler now,” she said to herself, +settling comfortably back in the cushions. +“I am glad that I have the seat to myself.”</p> + +<p>But to her dismay at the next station a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +rough-looking man entered the car and took +possession of the seat beside her. The girl +looked intently out of the window, after her +first glance at the fellow, inwardly hoping +that his journey would not be a long one. +For some time the man did not pay any attention +to her, then he turned abruptly and +said:</p> + +<p>“Do you want that window down?”</p> + +<p>“No; thank you,” returned Jeanne adopting +the manner she had seen her mother use +towards people of whom she did not approve.</p> + +<p>The man eyed her narrowly, but the girl +preserved her composure under his scrutiny.</p> + +<p>“What’s yer got in yer basket?” he demanded +presently.</p> + +<p>A look of indignation flashed over Jeanne’s +face. She opened her lips to reply. “None of +your business,” as some of the girls she knew +would have done, but something that her +mother had once said came into her mind +just as she was about to make the retort.</p> + +<p>“My dear,” her mother had said, “no matter +how rudely others may behave, be a lady. +Because some one else has been impolite does +not excuse it in you.”</p> + +<p>As this came to Jeanne she closed her lips +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +resolutely and, turning her back very decidedly, +looked out of the window.</p> + +<p>“Yer needn’t put on any of yer airs with +me,” growled the fellow, who was evidently +in a surly humor. “Can’t yer answer a +civil question?”</p> + +<p>Still Jeanne made no reply, and the man +reached out to take hold of her basket. But +the girl was too quick for him, and lifting it +into her lap held on to it tightly while she +placed her feet upon her satchel.</p> + +<p>“Yer needn’t be so spunky,” said the fellow +sheepishly. “I jest wanted to see if yer +didn’t have somethin’ to eat.”</p> + +<p>“If you are hungry, you should have said +so,” said Jeanne, relaxing instantly, for her +warm heart was always open to appeals of this +nature. She opened her basket and took out +some dainty sandwiches. “You are quite +welcome to what you wish to eat,” she said +graciously, “but you were not very nice about +asking for it.”</p> + +<p>“A feller don’t stop fer manners,” said the +man nibbling at the sandwiches gingerly, +“when he’s as hungry as I am. Is that all +ye’ve got in there?”</p> + +<p>“I have some more lunch,” said Jeanne +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +rather indignantly, for the fellow did not seem +very ravenous for a hungry man. “I shall +keep that for the rest of my journey.”</p> + +<p>“Whar yer goin’? Ain’t yer got nobody +with yer?” queried the man a gleam coming +into his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think that you are rather inquisitive?” +questioned Jeanne boldly. “Why +should you want to know where I am going?”</p> + +<p>“Because folks have to be keerful in times +like these,” said the other brusquely. +“Haven’t yer got some money too?”</p> + +<p>“I have none to give you,” answered +Jeanne. “And I would rather that you +would not sit by me any longer. Will you +please go away?”</p> + +<p>“Not if I knows myself and I think I do,” +laughed the man. “See here! I’ll go away +if you will give me your purse. I know that +it’s in that there basket. You take too much +care of it fer it only ter hold yer food. Now +give it to me quick.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t,” said Jeanne determinedly clinging +to the basket, for she had put her purse +there after buying some fruit. “If you touch +this basket I’ll scream and the people will +know what you are doing.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span>“Pooh! I’ll tell them that you are my +crazy sister that I’m taking to an asylum,” +said the fellow easily. “Now you’d better +give me that money.”</p> + +<p>“People would know that I was not your +sister,” exclaimed the girl scornfully. “You +don’t look in the least like my brother. Now, +sir, go away.”</p> + +<p>“Not without that money. Sit down,” he +commanded gruffly as the girl half rose from +her seat.</p> + +<p>Jeanne cast a wild, imploring look about +her for help and sank back in her seat despairingly, +for the passengers seemed intent +upon other concerns, and the noise of the +train prevented the conversation from being +overheard.</p> + +<p>“Are you going to hand out that money?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” faltered Jeanne, reaching for her +purse.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by frightening this +girl?” demanded a voice, and a hand was +laid upon the ruffian’s shoulder. “Get out of +my seat, you rascal, or I’ll have you thrown +off the car.”</p> + +<p>A cry of delight escaped Jeanne’s lips as +she saw that the man who had come to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +assistance was the old gentleman who had +bought the handkerchiefs from her during +the fair.</p> + +<p>“I–I did not mean any harm,” stammered +the fellow, resigning the seat with alacrity. +“I was jest trying ter scare the girl a +little.”</p> + +<p>“Well, let me catch you ‘jest trying ter +scare her,’ any more, and it will be the worse +for you,” cried the old gentleman threateningly. +“Now clear out, and let me see no +more of you.”</p> + +<p>The fellow slunk off and her friend in need +took the seat by Jeanne’s side.</p> + +<p>“That fellow was annoying you terribly, +was he not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I was very much frightened, especially +when he demanded my money.”</p> + +<p>“What! Did he do that? Why the +scamp! This is worse than I thought. I’ll +get the conductor after him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, let him go,” pleaded Jeanne, who was +quite a little upset by the episode. “Please +stay with me.”</p> + +<p>“Very well.” The old man saw her nervousness +and acquiesced willingly. “He can’t +get off the train so long as this rate of speed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +is kept up, and I’ll see about getting him +later. Now tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne gave him a succinct account of what +the man had said and done. “And I was so +glad when you came up as you did,” she said +in finishing. “But I did not expect to see +you here, sir, and I thank you so much for +your assistance.”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut! It is every American’s duty to +look after women folks when they travel +alone. I had just come from the smoker and +saw as I entered the door that something was +wrong. As the ruffian had my seat I came up +at once and demanded it of him. But you +are not more surprised to see me than I was +to recognize the little patriot of the handkerchiefs. +Aren’t you a long way from home?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I am, but I am going to visit my +Uncle Ben in New Orleans.”</p> + +<p>“Rather a troublesome time for a visit,” remarked +the other musingly. Then as a deep +flush suffused the girl’s cheek, he added +keenly, “I know that there are sometimes +reasons why visits should be made even though +the times be perilous. There! I am not going +to ask any questions, so don’t look at me +like that. My name is Emanuel Huntsworth, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +and I live near Corinth, Mississippi. I was +formerly a New Englander but settled in the +South a number of years ago. My Union +sentiments having made me obnoxious to my +neighbors I feared for the safety of my family +and am returning from moving them North. +I am going back now to wind up my business, +when I shall go North once more to do what I +can for the government. If you have no +friends with you, perhaps you have no objections +to my company as far as our ways lie +together.”</p> + +<p>“I should be pleased to be with you,” said +Jeanne sweetly. “I am all alone, Mr. Huntsworth. +My name is Jeanne Vance, and I +live in New York City. I was all right +until I got on this train, but now I can’t +help but be a little uneasy since that man +acted so.”</p> + +<p>“The rascal! I had forgotten him. Conductor,” +as that individual came by. “I think +there is a man on this train that will bear +watching.” Thereupon he related the incident +to the official.</p> + +<p>“I will look after the fellow,” said the conductor.</p> + +<p>But search failed to reveal the presence of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +the man on the train and soon Mr. Huntsworth +and Jeanne were convinced that, fearing +the consequences of his actions, he had +jumped from the train.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span><a id='link_5'></a>CHAPTER V<br /><span class='h2fs'>CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>You</span> must be very tired,” remarked Mr. +Huntsworth, as the train drew in at the +Memphis station. “It has been a long hard +trip, and if you’ll take my advice you will +stay here for a day or two before trying to go +farther on your journey.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I must not,” exclaimed Jeanne +quickly. “I must get to New Orleans just as +soon as I can. It is very necessary.”</p> + +<p>“Necessary, eh?” The old gentleman regarded +her with a quizzical expression on his +face. “Why should you be so anxious to see +your uncle? You must be very fond of him. +Have you visited him often?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” answered Jeanne in some confusion. +“I never saw him in my life. He went +to New Orleans and engaged in business there +long before I was born. Father hasn’t heard +from him for a number of years.”</p> + +<p>“Then isn’t it rather queer for your father +to choose such a time as this for you to pay +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +him a visit?” queried Mr. Huntsworth keenly. +“Now don’t be alarmed, child,” he added +hastily as Jeanne looked up in a startled manner +while the color mounted to cheek and +brow. “I do not wish you to tell me any +of your secrets if you have any. I presume +that there are just and sufficient reasons for +you to go or you would not be going. I +merely wished to show you that over anxiety +to reach your destination might subject you +to suspicion. Also tell no one else that you +have never seen your uncle. If you do, others +beside myself will wonder why you have been +sent to him at a time like this. You don’t +mind my telling you this, little girl, do +you?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed,” returned Jeanne warmly. +“I am very glad that you did so. Father +says that one way to learn things is to listen +to older people. But I will be truly glad to +see Uncle Ben. Father has told me so much +about him. He was his favorite brother, and +my brother, Dick, is named for him and for +father too. Richard Benjamin Vance.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Huntsworth’s eyes twinkled, and he +gave a low chuckle of appreciation.</p> + +<p>“My dear,” said he, “just answer every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +one who asks you questions in the way you +have me, and you’ll come out all right. Of +course you would want to see your uncle under +those circumstances.” Again he chuckled and +looked at her approvingly. “She knows that +I am her friend,” he mused, “yet she will not +tell me why she is sent down here. That +there is some reason for it I am convinced. +A very remarkable girl!” Aloud he continued, +“Here we are at Memphis, child. What +shall you do now?”</p> + +<p>“It is so near night that I guess that I’d +better go to a hotel,” said Jeanne. “That is +what father always does first. Then to-morrow +morning I want to find Commodore Porter. +I have a letter for him.”</p> + +<p>“Porter is down the river with Farragut. I +doubt if you will be able to find him. But +we’ll see in the morning. The thing to do is +to get a good night’s rest after this journey. +Here is a cab for the Gayoso House. I always +stop there. It is a good place, and overlooks +the river. Have you ever seen the Mississippi +before?”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Jeanne trying to look +about in the gathering darkness. “It’s a +great river, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span>“None greater,” answered Mr. Huntsworth +enthusiastically. “Whichever side of this +struggle holds it will be the winning side. It +is the backbone of the rebellion, and the key +to the whole situation.”</p> + +<p>“But we hold it, sir,” said Jeanne earnestly. +“My father says that now that +Vicksburg is taken it will not be long before +Richmond will fall and then the rebellion +will be over.”</p> + +<p>“Pray God that your father may be right,” +said Mr. Huntsworth. “But I fear that he is +mistaken. These Southerners are not so easily +whipped. Every inch of the Confederacy +will have to be conquered before they will +acknowledge themselves beaten. The North +makes the same mistake as the South does. +Each forgets that both are of the same Anglo-Saxon +blood that never knows defeat. I fear +the struggle will be a long and bloody one, +all the more bitter for being waged between +brothers.”</p> + +<p>“I hope that it will not be long,” sighed +Jeanne. “I shouldn’t like for Dick to have +to be away much longer.”</p> + +<p>“Is your brother in the army, my dear?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. Father works for the government, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +mother belongs to The Woman’s Central +Relief Association, and I make socks and hem +handkerchiefs for the soldiers, and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” she +paused suddenly, conscious that she was about +to speak of the object of her journey.</p> + +<p>“And you hold fairs to tempt the shekels +from the unwary, eh?” completed Mr. Huntsworth. +“Well, you are certainly a patriotic +family. This is the Gayoso House, child. It +has been the resort of all the noted Southerners. +It is too dark for you to see the +river, but you can hear its murmurings.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne leaned forward eagerly. The soft +lapping of the water, as it beat against the +foot of the bluff upon which the city stood, +came gently to her ears.</p> + +<p>“I wish I could see it,” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“You can in the morning. Meantime, let’s +get some supper. Here, boy,” to a porter, +“don’t you see that we are waiting to be +shown to the dining-room?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sah. Right dis way, sah,” responded +the negro, his ivories relaxing into a broad +grin. “Glad ter see yer back, sah. We all’s +mighty sorry ter heah dat you is gwine ter +go norf, sah.”</p> + +<p>“Who told you that I was going North, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +you black rascal?” demanded Mr. Huntsworth. +“I’ve been North. Have just gotten +back. Here, take this, and tell that waiter to +hurry up with that supper.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sah. Thank ye, sah,” answered the +black pocketing the shinplaster slipped into +his hand, with alacrity.</p> + +<p>“I think I never saw so many negroes before,” +remarked Jeanne, looking about the +dining-room. “Where do they all come +from?”</p> + +<p>“You’ll see a great many more before you +go back to New York,” responded Mr. Huntsworth. +“The South literally teems with +them. If the race only knew its power it +would not leave its battles to be fought by the +North. A while ago I said the Mississippi +was the key to the rebellion. I was mistaken. +It is dar-key.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>“My dear child, did you see the point?” +cried the old gentleman delightedly. “That +is indeed an accomplishment! Now my +daughter, Anne, is a good girl. An excellent +girl, but she not only cannot make a pun, but +neither can she see one when it is made. I +have a little weakness that way myself.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span>“We used to, Dick, father and I, to make +them at home. But we did it so much that +mother stopped us. She said that it wasn’t +refined–I am sure that I beg your pardon,” +she broke off in great distress.</p> + +<p>“There! Don’t take it so to heart,” +laughed Mr. Huntsworth good-naturedly. +“I know that it isn’t just the thing to pun, +but</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘A little nonsense now and then</p> +<p>Is relished by the best of men.’</p> +</div> + +<p>“Then, too, we have the example of the +immortal Shakespeare. But I won’t indulge +again before you, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but I like them,” cried Jeanne. “I +think mother stopped us because we did nothing +else for a time. But she used to laugh at +some of them herself. She did, truly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, of course if you enjoy them +that is another thing. Perhaps you can tell +when a boy is not a boy.”</p> + +<p>“I can beat any sort of a drum but a conundrum,” +was Jeanne’s quick reply.</p> + +<p>“My, my, but I shall have to look to my +laurels,” exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth in mock +alarm. “That was very bright.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span>“It’s Dick’s,” confessed Jeanne blushing. +“He is so clever. He could always think of +something good to say.”</p> + +<p>“You think a great deal of Dick, don’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; we are very proud of him. And +his Colonel has complimented him twice for +bravery,” and Jeanne’s eyes lighted up with +pride. “He went at the first call for troops. +I’ll never forget the day he asked father if he +might go. ‘It’s our country’s need, father,’ +he said, standing there so brave and handsome. +‘No Vance has ever turned a deaf ear +to that, sir.’ And father said, ‘My son, if you +feel it your duty, go, and God be with you.’ +O, you should see Dick, sir,” she continued, +enthusiastically. “There is no one quite like +him.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I may some day. I should like +to very much. I do not wonder at his bravery +since every one of you are so devoted to the +cause. Now, my little girl, you had best retire. +I am sure that you must be tired.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne rose instantly and, bidding him +good-night, was shown to her room. She was +up bright and early the next morning, and, +dressing quickly ran down the stairs and out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +on the gallery eager to take a look at the +city.</p> + +<p>The Gayoso House fronted upon a wide +esplanade which extended along the bluff in +front of the town. Blocks of large warehouses +and public buildings bordered the +esplanade on the same side as the hotel. The +city was beautifully situated on the Mississippi +River just below the mouth of the Wolf River, +and located upon what was known as the +fourth Chickasaw Bluff, an elevation about +forty feet high.</p> + +<p>Below the bluff ran the river, and far to the +right was what had been a naval depot established +by the United States but used until the +recent capitulation of Memphis by the Confederates +for the purpose of building vessels +of their own. To Jeanne, accustomed to New +York City, Memphis seemed very small indeed. +It was in reality a place of about twelve thousand +inhabitants and considered a flourishing +little city, being the port of entry for Shelby +County, Tennessee. At one time it was the +most important town on the river between St. +Louis and New Orleans.</p> + +<p>But if the girl was disappointed in the size +of the place, the beauty of the surroundings +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +made up for it. She gave an ecstatic “Oh,” +at the sight of the broad esplanade with the +noble river washing the base of the bluff which +jutted out into a bed of sandstone that formed +a natural landing for boats. Several steamboats +lay at anchor and Jeanne’s attention +was drawn to them by the singing of the +blacks as they hurried to and from the wharf +loading the steamers with freight. It was a +weird plantation refrain in the minor key. +Jeanne had never heard anything like it, and +she listened intently as the song grew louder +and louder as the enthusiasm of the blacks increased:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“Ma sistah, done you want to get religin?</p> +<p>Go down in de lonesum valley,</p> +<p>Go down in de lonesum valley,</p> +<p>Go down in de lonesum valley, ma Lohd,</p> +<p>To meet ma Jesus dar.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Over and over they sang the refrain, and +the girl was so interested that she did not +hear Mr. Huntsworth’s approach.</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you think of the South?” +he asked.</p> + +<p>“I like it. Mr. Huntsworth, just listen to +those negroes sing. Isn’t it musical?”</p> + +<p>“They call them niggers here,” said Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +Huntsworth smiling. “Yes; their singing is +melodious. I have always liked to listen to +it. Sometime in the future, I fancy, more +will be made of those melodies than we dream +of now. When you go down the river you +will hear more of it. Some of their songs are +very quaint. Do you know that we will have +to see General Wallace to obtain a permit to +go into the enemy’s country?”</p> + +<p>“General Wallace?” repeated Jeanne. +“Why?”</p> + +<p>“The town is under martial law with General +Wallace in command. I have been wondering +what will be the best for you to do. +To come with me to Corinth, for we can go +there without difficulty, or for you to stick to +the river route as you had intended. I have +learned that Vicksburg is not in our hands +after all. Its capitulation was a false report. +Farragut is waiting for Halleck to send troops +to occupy it and is still keeping up the bombardment.”</p> + +<p>“But a boat could get through, could it +not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I think so. Davis guards the stream +above Vicksburg while the Commodore holds +the lower part. I’ll talk with General Wallace +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +about it. Meantime after we have had +breakfast you can walk along this esplanade, +and see something of the place. You will not +get lost, will you?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed,” laughed Jeanne. “I came +from New York, you know. I should be able +to get around a little place like this.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, then.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne donned her hat and wandered along +the wide esplanade viewing the city, the river +and the surrounding country. She walked on +and on until finally she had wandered some +distance from the hotel and the buildings were +growing farther and farther apart when she +was startled by a groan.</p> + +<p>Looking about her she beheld a young fellow +of about twenty-one years clad in the blue +uniform of the United States lying upon the +ground. Without a thought but that one of +the soldiers was suffering Jeanne sprang to +his side and knelt beside him.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she cried. “Are you hurt?”</p> + +<p>“Just faint,” murmured the young man in +a weak voice, and the girl noted with surprise +the Southern accent. “I’ll be all right in a +moment.”</p> + +<p>“Smell this.” Jeanne thrust her bottle of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +smelling salts under his nose, and began to +chafe his forehead vigorously. “There! +You’re better now, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Much better.” The young fellow struggled +to a sitting posture and smiled wanly. “What +a good little thing you are!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I like soldiers,” said Jeanne. “My +brother, Dick, is one, and whenever I see a +soldier suffering I always want to do something +for him. You are fighting for us, you know. +Are you sick?”</p> + +<p>“No; but I have been. I just came out of +the hospital a few days ago, and I am not so +strong as I thought.”</p> + +<p>“You should go home and stay until you +get well,” said the girl with a quaint assumption +of maternal authority.</p> + +<p>“Home! I have none.” The young man’s +brow darkened. “If I were to go to my home, +I would be spurned from its doors.”</p> + +<p>“But why?” cried Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Listen, and you shall hear, child. I am a +native of the state of Louisiana. I was educated +at West Point, and when the war broke +out had just graduated. You know the conditions +under which we are entered, do you +not?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span>Jeanne shook her head.</p> + +<p>“We are to serve the country four years for +the education given, so when the war came I +felt it my duty to give those four years. I +went to my father and told him so briefly. +‘Never darken my door again while you wear +that uniform,’ he said. ‘You are no son of +mine if you side in with a horde of miscreants +sent to invade the sacred soil of the South.’ I +told him that it was my duty. That I had +but just graduated and that my honor demanded +that I should repay my debt to the +government, but he would not listen. So I +left him.”</p> + +<p>“But have you no friends?” asked Jeanne, +her face aglow with compassion.</p> + +<p>“Friends? No; they fight on the other +side,” was the bitter reply. “And what do +these Yankees care for me? They don’t realize +what I have given up.”</p> + +<p>“But we do care,” cried the girl. “My +father and mother just love soldiers. Oh, if +you would only go to them they would care +for you. Do go. Will you?”</p> + +<p>A smile lighted up the young man’s face as +he noted her warmth.</p> + +<p>“I wish all your people were like you,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +said. “It would not be so hard to do my duty +then.”</p> + +<p>“We are all just alike,” said Jeanne. “My +father would be proud to have you honor his +house. And you are an officer, too,” she +added, glancing at his epaulets.</p> + +<p>“Only a lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it doesn’t matter what you are +since you are a soldier. Have you a pencil +and paper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; why?”</p> + +<p>“I want to give you my father’s address. +You will go there, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“My little girl,” the young man’s voice +was husky. “I couldn’t do that, you know. +Why, it would be monstrous to intrude upon +them.”</p> + +<p>“No; it would not,” declared Jeanne. “I +wish I were going home. I’d make you go +with me. But won’t you go? Truly they +would welcome you as if you were Dick, my +brother. And if you don’t go, I’ll always feel +as if something had happened to you just because +you had no place to go. You have done +a great deal for our side, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll promise,” said the soldier a little +wearily, as if it were beyond his strength to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +prolong the argument. “Where do they +live?”</p> + +<p>“In New York City,” and Jeanne rapidly +penciled the address.</p> + +<p>“Then it is utterly out of the question. I +can’t promise you.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” said Jeanne quickly. “You +haven’t any money.”</p> + +<p>A flush passed over the Lieutenant’s face.</p> + +<p>“Soldiers never do have, Dick says,” went +on the girl, taking out her purse in a matter-of-fact way.</p> + +<p>“No–no, I–I can’t do that,” groaned the +soldier. “Merciful goodness, has it come to +this? That I should receive charity from a +child!”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t charity,” cried Jeanne hotly. +“You can pay it back to my father if you +like. I want you to get good and strong so +that you can fight for us again.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it,” exclaimed the young fellow +impulsively. “A few weeks’ rest would put +new life in me. And I’ll be your soldier, +little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Will you?” cried Jeanne delightedly. +“That will be most as good as if I could fight +myself, won’t it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span>“Every bit,” declared the Lieutenant rising. +“God bless you, child. Such warm hearts as +yours make life seem worth the living after +all.”</p> + +<p>He raised her hand to his lips. Then as if +afraid to trust himself to speak further left +her abruptly. Excited and happy Jeanne +ran back to the hotel where she found Mr. +Huntsworth waiting for her.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span><a id='link_6'></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><span class='h2fs'>IN DIXIE LAND</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>Oh</span>, Mr. Huntsworth,” she cried, “I have +something to tell you,” and she rapidly related +the incident of the young Lieutenant.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure the fellow was telling the +truth?” queried the old man smiling at her +enthusiasm. “Sometimes rascals tell all sorts +of stories in order to get money.”</p> + +<p>“This man was a gentleman and I know +he was truthful. He didn’t want to take the +money at all. I had to plead with him to get +him to do it. Besides he did not speak to me +until I had spoken to him first. He was not +strong enough for duty and he showed it.”</p> + +<p>“Then, my dear, you have done a noble +thing. If the young man told the truth his +position is indeed a sad one. His rebel kinsmen +would turn from him if he espoused the +cause of the Union and his duty is doubly +hard that he must fight against father, home, +neighbors and friends. I am afraid that we +do not appreciate all that a man gives up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +when, a Southerner by birth, he throws his +lot in with ours. Many high-minded men +have gone with the South because their state +went that way, and it takes nobleness indeed +to rise above the call of one’s own state when +the government demands the sacrifice. I +should like to have seen the young fellow. +Did he give his name?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I did not think to ask it,” exclaimed +Jeanne. “But father will know of +course.”</p> + +<p>“So you really believe that he will go to +your father’s.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, for the faith of childhood,” exclaimed +Mr. Huntsworth. “But whether he +does or not you seemed to have infused new +life into him and that is what a man needs +most when he is discouraged. You are a true +patriot, child. But now, my little Quixote, +let’s go to General Wallace. I have explained +everything to him, but he desires to +see you personally.”</p> + +<p>The headquarters of Gen. Lewis Wallace +who was at this time in charge of the city of +Memphis were soon reached, and Jeanne and +her friend were ushered into his presence. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +A man of medium height, rather slender in +build, stern of feature but whose eyes beamed +with kindness, serious of mien and visage +and habited in a plain suit of blue flannel +with two stars upon his shoulders denoting a +Major-General in the United States Army, rose +to greet them. Full of chivalric dash, possessing +a cool head with a capacity for large +plans and the steady nerve to execute whatever +he conceived, the young General was an +interesting figure and Jeanne gazed at him +with some curiosity.</p> + +<p>“So, my little maid,” said the General. +“You wish to go to New Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Jeanne returning his +scrutiny modestly.</p> + +<p>“Do you not know that it will be a difficult +matter to do so? Farragut is still storming +the batteries of Vicksburg and while a transport +goes this morning to take supplies to +Captain Davis, and you could go down that +far on it, still it is scarcely the time for a girl +to make a visit.”</p> + +<p>“I must go, General,” said Jeanne firmly.</p> + +<p>“Will you tell me why, my child?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot, sir.”</p> + +<p>“But I cannot let you subject yourself to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +danger unless there is some necessity for it. +It seems to me that a mere visit could be postponed +until a safer season. Now unless there +are urgent reasons for it I feel compelled to forbid +your going.”</p> + +<p>“Sir,” said Jeanne blushing at her temerity +yet speaking boldly notwithstanding, “there +are urgent reasons for my going. I do not +wish to tell them because they concern the +government. But my father would not have +let me come had there not been necessity.”</p> + +<p>“You surely do not mean that you are an +emissary of the government?” exclaimed the +General in surprise. “Why, you are but a little +girl.”</p> + +<p>“But exceedingly patriotic, General,” interrupted +Mr. Huntsworth. “She has given a +fair to raise money for the soldiers, made I +don’t know how many shirts, socks and handkerchiefs +and just now emptied her purse to +send a soldier home to her parents to be taken +care of. Best of all she can relish a pun when +she hears one which you will agree is a rare +accomplishment for a girl or even a woman. +Oh, she is capable of anything.”</p> + +<p>“I believe it,” laughed the General. “I +fear that I shall have to give up before such a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +formidable array of accomplishments. Have +you really done all those things?”</p> + +<p>“All but the shirts,” answered Jeanne +shyly, “mother makes those. You see father +works for the government, mother is in the +Women’s Relief Association and Dick is in +the army, so I just had to do something to +help too.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said the General. “What is your +father’s name?”</p> + +<p>“Richard Vance, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Richard Vance!” exclaimed the General. +“Oh! I understand everything now. You +shall go to New Orleans, child, if our boats +can get you there. The transport will start +in an hour. Can you be ready to go by that +time?”</p> + +<p>“I am ready now, sir.”</p> + +<p>“That is the bearing of a true soldier,” approved +the General. “I will give you a letter +to Farragut<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“I have one to Commodore Porter, sir,” +interrupted Jeanne, producing the missive. +“He is my father’s friend.”</p> + +<p>“That is all right,” General Wallace hastily +scanned the letter. “But I will add a few +lines to Farragut. Success to you, my child.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span>“Thank you, sir,” answered Jeanne gratefully.</p> + +<p>“Now we will amuse ourselves by walking +about a little until the transport starts,” said +Mr. Huntsworth as they left the room. “My +train goes this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall have to tell you good-bye +soon,” said the girl regretfully. “I am sorry, +Mr. Huntsworth. You have been very kind +to me. My journey would not have been so +easy had it not been for you.”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut, I have done nothing,” said the +old gentleman. “I have pleased myself in +helping you. I was glad to have such a +bright little companion. And we shall meet +again, my dear. I promise you that. I am +not going to lose sight of my little comrade +easily. I want to bring my daughter, Anne, +to see you when you get home.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you would,” replied Jeanne. “I +should like to know her. Mr. Huntsworth, +don’t you think I might send a telegram to +my father from here to let him know that I +am all right and about to start for New Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“Why, bless my soul, child! That is the +very thing to do! What a head you have! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +There is the office on the other side of the +street.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; that was what made me think of it.”</p> + +<p>The telegram dispatched, the two wended +their way to Jackson Park.</p> + +<p>The statue of the old hero of New Orleans +stood in the centre of the green. It was inclosed +by a circular iron fence and ornamented +by carefully trained shrubbery. The +bust of the hero was placed on the top of a +plain shaft of marble about eight feet high. +On the north side of the shaft was an inscription.</p> + +<p>“Look!” exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. +“Some rampant rebel has marred that inscription.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked and saw the writing which +read “The Federal Union: It Must be Preserved”–the +words Federal and Union had +been chipped out, presenting an appearance +as if a small hammer had been struck across +them.</p> + +<p>“The villain!” continued the old gentleman +irascibly. “He ought to be hung who +ever he is!”</p> + +<p>“It is a pity,” said Jeanne. “Isn’t this a +cruel war, Mr. Huntsworth, that the things +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +both the North and South have been so proud +of now become hateful to one part of the country? +I never thought so much about it until +since I met that young man this morning.”</p> + +<p>“It is a terrible thing for brothers to be +arrayed against each other as we are,” assented +Mr. Huntsworth. “But don’t think +about it too much. It is a pity that your +young life should be clouded by the knowledge. +You think too much for your age.”</p> + +<p>“I am better for it,” said Jeanne. +“Wouldn’t it be dreadful for me to laugh +and play and be glad all day when the country +is in peril? Every one ought to think.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you are right. But sometimes I +have heard you say things that made me +think you a bit uncanny, as the Scotch say. +I am going to advise your father to turn you +out to grass when the war is over. I suppose +it would be useless to urge such a thing so +long as the war continues.”</p> + +<p>“‘To turn me out to grass,’” laughed +Jeanne. “What a funny expression. Do +you mean for me to live in the fields like the +cows and the horses?”</p> + +<p>“Well, something on that order,” smiled +Mr. Huntsworth. “Your father will understand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +what I mean. See, there is your +steamer, child. I will see you aboard and +then I must say good-bye.”</p> + +<p>The steamer which had been a passenger +packet plying her trade between St. Louis +and New Orleans before the war had been +converted into a transport for carrying men +and supplies for the government. As Mr. +Huntsworth and Jeanne ascended the gangplank +they were met by the Captain.</p> + +<p>“Is this the young lady who is to be our +guest down the river?” he asked in such a +hearty way that Jeanne’s heart warmed to +him immediately. “General Wallace advised +me that I was to expect one.”</p> + +<p>“This is the girl, Captain,” replied Mr. +Huntsworth. “And I hope for your sake +that you and your crew are thoroughly +Union, otherwise it would be better for you to +meet with a rebel ram. I don’t believe that +the Johnnies could make it any warmer for +you than she could.”</p> + +<p>“This is just the place for her then,” declared +the Captain smilingly. “We are +Union to the core, Miss Vance. I believe +that is your name.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; my name is Jeanne Vance, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +please do not call me ‘Miss Vance.’ It makes +me feel so strange.”</p> + +<p>“All right, my little girl. I will do as +you say. I am glad that you have no +grown-up notions about you. I foresee that +we shall get along famously. This is the way +to the cabin, and that room is where you will +bunk. It is next to mine. You can call on +me or Tennessee for anything you need.”</p> + +<p>“Tennessee!” ejaculated Jeanne with a +puzzled look.</p> + +<p>“Yes; our cook. We call her Tenny for +short, and she is about the jolliest old darky +that ever trod a deck. A good motherly +woman with a white soul if she is black. +Now make yourself comfortable. I will send +Tenny to you to help you. I have some +things to attend to on deck.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t he kind?” exclaimed Jeanne. +“How good people are to girls traveling +alone!”</p> + +<p>“It is because they are Americans,” said +Mr. Huntsworth. “You should be proud of +such a country. I am glad that you have +fallen into such pleasant hands. I will tell +your father if I see him before you do. Will +you stay in New Orleans long?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span>“I don’t know. I will have to hear from +my father about that. But how easy it has +been to get there!”</p> + +<p>“The most difficult part is to come,” said +the old gentleman gravely. “Once the +Vicksburg batteries are passed you will be +safe. I do not think that this boat will try +to make the run. She is hardly in fighting +shape. Of course you will be transferred to +a gun boat. Well, well, I hope that you will +get through all right and that we will soon +meet again. Good-bye, little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, sir,” and Jeanne shook hands +with him cordially. “Thank you so much +for all your kindness. I hope that I will see +you again. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>Another hand shake and the old gentleman +left the cabin slowly, and went on +shore.</p> + +<p>“Done you feel bad, honey,” and a fat +negress came up to her as she sat down on the +side of her berth feeling rather forlorn. “Wus +dat yer par?”</p> + +<p>“No,” and Jeanne looked up quickly with +a smile. “Are you Tennessee? I am glad to +see you. The Captain told me about you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I’se Tennessee, honey, but lawsie! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +Dey doesn’t call me nuffin but Tenny. But +ef yer want ter see the las’ ob de ole gem’muns +jest foller yer aunty ter de deck.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne followed the negress, and stood on +the deck watching the preparations for departure. +Mr. Huntsworth saw her and waved +his hand. Jeanne waved hers in response, +and as the transport backed out into the river +and steamed southward, she gazed at him until +his figure grew to be a tiny speck and then +disappeared in the distance.</p> + +<p>“Now, missy, I’se got ter ten’ ter de dinner, +but you can kum wid me ef yer likes, elsen +you can stay hyar and watch de ribber. Most +folks likes ter do dat. I ’spect mebbe dats de +best thing fer yer.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then I will stay, Mrs. Tenny,” +smiled Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Tenny! Huh! Who is yer talkin’ +to, honey? I’se jest Tenny or aunty jest as yer +likes. But done go ter puttin’ no missis on to +it. White folks done do dat down hyar.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will call you Tenny,” said Jeanne, +recoiling just a little from calling the woman +aunty. “But it doesn’t seem right not to say +Mrs.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, missy, it’s all right. Now I’ll get up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +a good dinner. ’Specks you is powerful +hungry, ain’t yer? Ole Tenny gwine ter do +her bes’ fer de little missy,” and the good +creature hurried below.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span><a id='link_7'></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE EXAMPLE OF A GIRL</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Slowly</span> the transport, which was called +The Gem, steamed down the river and Jeanne +stayed on deck long hours to watch the +scenery, which was new and strange to her. +The river was full of devious windings and the +girl was amazed at its great bends and loops, +and sometimes it seemed to her that the turns +must bring them back to Memphis. The +eastern shore bounded by the lofty plains of +Tennessee and Mississippi terminating at times +in precipitous bluffs afforded a great contrast +to the flat lands of the western bank. The +dense forests of cottonwood, sweet gum, magnolia, +sycamore and tulip trees festooned with +long gray streamers of moss were interspersed +with cypress swamps and a network of bayous.</p> + +<p>“Whar you bin dat you ain’t nebber seed +no ’nolias befo’?” queried Tennessee as she +listened to Jeanne’s expressions of admiration +as a particularly handsome clump of magnolias +came into view on the western bank. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +channel of the river at this point ran so close +to the shore that the perfume of the creamy +blossoms was very perceptible.</p> + +<p>“I’ve always lived in New York City,” +replied Jeanne. “I saw some magnolia trees +once in Maryland, but I never saw them in +blossom. Aren’t they beautiful?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, honey. Dey is purty fer a fac’,” +replied the negress. “I allers laked de ’nolias +myself, and dat wuz de reason dat I named +my darter so, but we called her Snowball fer +short.”</p> + +<p>“You did?” laughed Jeanne. “Why, +Tenny, Snowball isn’t any shorter than Magnolia. +Why didn’t you call her ‘Nolia,’ if +you wished to shorten the name?”</p> + +<p>“My ole marster, he done it,” was the reply. +“Ole marster say, ‘Tenny, dat li’l pickaninny +too white ter be named anything so +yaller as a magnolia. Better call her Snowball.’ +Ole marster allers would hab his joke, +and dat gal of mine wuz jist as brack as de +nex’ one. I didn’t want my chile called +Snowball. It wuzn’t stylish nohow, but +would you b’lebe me, chile? De fust thing I +knowed, white and culled wuz a callin’ her +Snowball, an’ den I did, too.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span>“Where is she now, Tenny? I should +think you would want her with you on these +trips.”</p> + +<p>“Chile, chile, dat’s de thing dat tears dis +hyar old heart ob mine,” said the woman, her +eyes filling with tears. “Ole marster say she +was a ‘likely gal’ an’ she wuz, ef she wuz +mine. Dey made much ob her and would +hab her roun’ dem all de time. Seem laik +nobody could do for ’em laik Snowball. Den +ole marster tuk sick and died an’ ole missus +she say she hab ter sell us all, kase she didn’t +hab no money any mo’. An’ Massa Cap’n he +bought me but ’nother man bought Snowball +an’ tuk her down to Loosyanny.”</p> + +<p>“Why, that is awful!” cried Jeanne, her +eyes overflowing, her heart full of sympathy +for the darky. She had often heard tales of +this kind but this was the first time that this +phase of slavery had been brought home +to her. A child torn from its mother appealed +to her, so many miles from her own +dear mother, as nothing else could have done. +“Why didn’t Captain Leathers buy her too?” +she asked. “He seems like a kind man.”</p> + +<p>“He is, honey. ’Deed he is,” replied +Tenny wiping her eyes, “an’ he did try, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +the yudder man had bought her fust an’ +he wouldn’t gib her up. I can’t blame him +fer she wuz a likely gal. Lawsie, chile, dat +gal wuz smarter’n a whip!”</p> + +<p>“How long has she been gone, Tenny?”</p> + +<p>“’Twas befo’ de wah broke out. Massa +Cap’n he wanted a good cook, an’ I sutinly +am dat, so he tuk me. He say dat I’se ter +hab my freedum too, but shucks! what’s freedum +ter me? I’d rudder hab my gal dan all +de freedum in de world.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I suppose so,” said Jeanne dreamily. +“Still, Tenny, if you had your freedom +you could go to look for Snowball.”</p> + +<p>“Now, missy, what could Tenny do? A +pore ole nigger can’t do nuffin nohow. +S’pose I did fin’ her, what’s I gwine ter +do ’bout it? I couldn’t buy her. ’Sides, +ef dey cot an ole ’ooman a foolin’ roun’ dat +didn’t seem ter ’long ter nobody dey lock me +up, suah. Mebbe dey’d whip me. An’, +chile, once you had de whip ter yer back you +doesn’t want it no mo’. No; I’se gwine +ter stay right with Massa Cap’n. He’s a good +marster, an’ he’ll take good keer ob Tenny.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne sat silently thinking over what she +had heard. Her heart ached for the helpless +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +mother and she chafed at her inability to aid +her. The darkness of the great slavery evil +fell upon her spirit. Was this the land of the +free and the home of the brave? she mused. +How could she ever sing “The Star Spangled +Banner” again so long as it waved over +a country a portion of whose inhabitants +groaned under a yoke of bondage!</p> + +<p>“’Spect I ortern’t ter hab tole yer dis, +chile,” said Tenny, becoming alarmed at her +silence. “A nigga’s trubbles nuffin nohow. +Done you bodder yer purty haid ober it. +I’se sorry I tole yer.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad, Tenny, but I do feel so sorry +for you. I wish I could help you. If I +knew where the man was that bought your +child I’d buy her back and give her to you. +Then if Captain Leathers would set you free +you could both go North and nobody could +ever separate you again.”</p> + +<p>“Bress yer good haht, honey!” exclaimed +Tenny, clapping her hands. “I wish I +knowed his name. He wus an horsifer. I +heerd dem call him Kuhnel.”</p> + +<p>“And don’t you remember his name?”</p> + +<p>“No, missy; I doesn’t. Nebber heerd him +called nuffin but Kuhnel nohow. Wait a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +minnit! Chile, chile, ’pears ter me I did +hyar it. Lemme think. My ole haid no +’count no mo’.” She placed her hands to her +head and looked with troubled eyes at Jeanne. +“Why can’t I ’member? ’Twuzn’t Massa +Benson? No; ’twuzn’t. Think, nigga! +Why done yer ’zert yersef? Nebber did hab +no sense nohow.”</p> + +<p>Thus she rambled on, muttering to herself +until presently she sprang to her feet exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“I’se got it, missy. ’Twuz Kuhnel Peyton. +Massa Kuhnel Peyton! I ’members it now +’zactly. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! Dat’s it. +Dat’s it.”</p> + +<p>“Colonel Peyton!” said Jeanne. “I’ll +remember that name, Tenny. How much do +you suppose the Colonel would want for +her?”</p> + +<p>“’Bout a tousand dollahs, I reckon,” answered +Tenny.</p> + +<p>“A thousand dollars,” echoed Jeanne in +dismay. “Oh, Tenny, I haven’t near that +much. I didn’t suppose that it would be so +much as that.”</p> + +<p>“Niggas wuth heaps ob money,” said +Tenny proudly. “My gal wuz smaht, I tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +yer. Dat’s why she brung so much. Can’t +you buy her, missy? Tenny’ll lub yer all yer +life ef yer will.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll write to my father,” decided Jeanne. +“I’ll get him to buy her for me. He will +know just what to do, and you shall have +your child again, Tenny, I’ll promise you +that.”</p> + +<p>“Ef yer’ll jest do that, missy, ole Tenny’ll +do anything in de wohld fer yer,” sobbing +in her eagerness. “To think ob habin’ my +babby ergain. She wuz my babby, missy. I +had ten befo’ her but ’peared laik none ob +dem tuk sich a hole on ma haht de way she +did. Ef I kin hab her ergain I’ll brack yer +shoes, an’ scrub yer floors er do anything all +de res’ ob ma life. Yer won’t need ter lift yer +purty white han’s ter do er a lick er wuk +nebber no mo’.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it if it is possible,” said Jeanne. +“It may take some time to find the Colonel, +Tenny. You know that the war has disturbed +everything so, but my father will +know just what to do. If anybody can find +him I know that he can. Just hope and pray +that it will all come right yet.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do dat, honey. I’se been prayin’ fer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +dis long time, but I didn’t do no hopin’ kase +it didn’t seem no use. But bress yer! De +Lohd seems ’bout ter lead me outen de valley +ob de shadder. Massa Cap’n say sumtime +we all be free, but dat’s too much ter hope +fer.”</p> + +<p>“No; it isn’t, Tenny. The people up +North are talking about it all the time and +working for it. I should not be surprised if +it were to happen any time.”</p> + +<p>“Glory!” shouted the old woman rapturously. +“Den dere wouldn’t be no mo’ whippin’s, +ner chilluns sold frum der mammies, +ner hidin’s in de swamp wid de dogs arter +yer, ner put in jail ef yer does run away. +Oh, chile, it’ll be de bressed day ef it do happen! +But it can’t be true.”</p> + +<p>“Hope for it, Tenny. That is what we are +doing, but it grows late and I believe that I +am tired. Would you mind going with me +to the cabin while I go to bed? Someway I +feel lonesome to-night.”</p> + +<p>“’Course yer lonesum. Way offen yer +folks laik dis. Suttinly I’ll go an’ only too +glad. Ole Tenny’ll put yer ter bed laik she +wuz yer own mammy.” She bustled about +the girl when they reached the latter’s stateroom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +and soon had Jeanne snugly in bed. +“Dis hyar winda’ll gib yer air,” she said +opening it. “Yer needn’t be afeerd kase it +opens on de ribba, and nobody can’t git in. +Now shet dem eyes ob yourn, and go ter +sleep.”</p> + +<p>She sat by the girl’s side and began crooning +weirdly. The wild barbaric melody rising +and falling in a sort of rhythm with the motion +of the boat. Jeanne listened fascinated +by the music and presently her eyes became +heavy and soon she was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>On and on down the tortuous curves of the +river The Gem wended her way until at last +she came in sight of the flotilla under the +command of Commodore Davis. A shout +went up from the fleet as the men caught +sight of the transport, and there was a scramble +for her sides as she hove to alongside of +the flagship of the Commodore.</p> + +<p>Jeanne kept herself in readiness to be transferred +to one of the gunboats, for Captain +Leathers had told her that he did not expect +to go farther. Soon he returned from a visit +to the flagship.</p> + +<p>“Commodore Davis says that it will not be +advisable for you to come aboard any one of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +his ships as there are many cases of fever +among the men,” he said, coming at once to +the waiting girl. “Both Commodore Farragut’s +force and his own are down with it. +They intend withdrawing from the assault on +Vicksburg as they have received orders to that +effect from Washington. Therefore Davis +will retire to Helena and Farragut to New +Orleans until they can have the coöperation +of the army.”</p> + +<p>“But<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” began Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“You see the thing is to get you to Farragut,” +interrupted the Captain. “Davis and I +have decided that some of these supplies +ought to be carried to the Commodore directly. +He knows his need; so that I am +going to him with the transport. Davis will +send a gunboat with me for protection. It is +fair to tell you that there will be great danger. +The ram Arkansas is anchored just below the +city and will do all she can to injure us. +Now the question is, what will you do? The +best thing to my way of thinking would be +for you to stay right here with old Tenny +either on one of the gunboats, fever stricken +though they be, or to land somewhere until +my return.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span>“There is no question at all about it,” said +Jeanne decidedly. “I will go with you.”</p> + +<p>“But you understand that there is danger, +child? Great danger! We may all of us be +killed.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I know,” replied Jeanne quietly, +“but I started for New Orleans, Captain, and +I am going if I can get there.”</p> + +<p>“Then there is nothing more to be said,” +and the Captain heaved a sigh. “I will not +attempt to combat your decision, child, but I +wish you would not go. However I must see +the men now, and place the matter before +them. You may go with me if you like.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne followed him and stood by his side +as he called all hands aft.</p> + +<p>“My men,” said the captain in clear tones, +“I have called you together to put a plain +statement of facts before you. You know that +we were sent here with supplies for the two +fleets of Commodores Farragut and Davis. +Both squadrons have many cases of fever which +has seriously depleted their strength. Farragut +needs the drugs that we have immediately. +Of course he can get supplies by the outside +route, but that takes too long. The poor fellows +are in urgent want of what we have. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +Now, men, it was not the intention to go +farther when we started than Davis’s flotilla, +but my heart bleeds for those suffering sailors. +I want to run by Vicksburg to-night in the +darkness. I will not disguise the danger. +The ram Arkansas lies at anchor under the +city as a further menace besides the batteries. +I want no man to accompany the expedition +who does not go willingly. All who wish to +remain with the fleet may do so without the +least stigma of cowardice attaching to them. +Who will go with me?”</p> + +<p>There was dead silence. Jeanne looked +with surprise at the grave faces before her. +She had thought that men were always ready +to lay down their lives in a good cause. She +had not dreamed that any one would hesitate +for a moment. Her amazed look gave place +to one of scorn as the time passed and no one +spoke. Stepping close to the Captain’s side she +slipped her little hand into his and said +clearly:</p> + +<p>“I will go with you, Captain.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span><a id='link_8'></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THROUGH SHOT AND SHELL</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>A ringing</span> cheer went up from the men and +they stepped forward with one accord.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go with you, Captain,” cried one. +“With you and the little girl to the death.”</p> + +<p>“Ay! to the death,” shouted the others in +chorus.</p> + +<p>The Captain smiled down into Jeanne’s +face.</p> + +<p>“You see what you have done,” he said. +“They did not care to follow me, but will go +anywhere with you. I believe that we shall +have to turn over the boat to your charge.”</p> + +<p>“I think they would have gone,” said +Jeanne, rather abashed at so much notice. +“Perhaps they were just thinking it over.”</p> + +<p>“True for you, my beauty,” cried the first +mate. “That’s what we were doing, Captain. +We’d a gone all right.”</p> + +<p>“Now, men,” said the Captain seriously, still +retaining Jeanne’s hand, “you fully realize +what you are doing, do you? Think well, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +because there can be no backing out when we +have started. Any one who does not wish to +join us may go forward. We have no means +of fighting and must take whatever the ‘rebs’ +choose to give us. You see that I am not +mincing matters with you, boys. Move forward +any of you who do not wish to go.”</p> + +<p>He paused and waited for a few moments, +but not a man stirred from his place.</p> + +<p>“Then listen,” he went on briskly. “We’ll +finish giving the Commodore his supplies, and +then barricade the boat with bales of cotton. +Under the protection of one of Davis’s gunboats +we will try to run the batteries under +cover of the darkness. Now fall to, my hearties. +There is much to be done.”</p> + +<p>There was another cheer and the men sprang +to their tasks. The Captain looked down at +the girl by his side. Jeanne’s eyes were like +stars, and her cheeks were red as roses. The +blood of her Revolutionary ancestors was up +and she showed no sign of fear.</p> + +<p>“What will your father say if I do not bring +you safely through this?” asked the Captain.</p> + +<p>“It is a risk that we must run,” said Jeanne. +“There is no more danger for me than for you +and the men.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span>“True, child; yet we are men, and you are +only a girl. I don’t know just where you +ought to stay through this affair. One part +of the boat will be just as safe as another.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t mind me, Captain. You will have +your duties to attend to, and I will not bother +if I am ‘only a girl.’”</p> + +<p>“Ah! that touched you, did it?” laughed +the Captain. “But I do mind you, child. I +don’t half like this idea of your going. You +are sure that you won’t stay here?”</p> + +<p>“Sure, Captain. Indeed, I must get to New +Orleans, and there is no other way, is there?”</p> + +<p>“No; to try to make it by land on either +side the river would be through the enemy’s +country with every chance in favor of capture. +This is a desperate risk but sometimes desperate +chances stand the best show of success. +Once past Vicksburg and the rest is easy.”</p> + +<p>“Then please don’t say anything more +about my staying,” pleaded Jeanne. “I will +try not to be the least bit in the way.”</p> + +<p>And so it came about that the transport +made ready to run the batteries of Vicksburg +with Jeanne on board. The girl watched the +men as they worked, and waited impatiently +for the time to come for them to start. At +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +last night fell. There was no moon, and a +little before midnight a gunboat drifted out +of Miliken’s Bend where the fleet lay, and, +showing no light from its chimney, moved +like some great bird down the noiseless current, +while the transport, hugging the western +shore under the cover of the friendly darkness, +followed close in the rear.</p> + +<p>No sound could be heard from the heights +of Vicksburg, nor could any lights be seen. +The city lay in the brooding darkness as +calmly quiet as though no dread batteries +lay at her feet waiting but the word of command +to belch forth their terrible fire. An +hour passed, and Jeanne, sitting in the darkness +of the cabin listening with strained ears +to catch the least sound, began to believe that +they would get safely past the city undiscovered.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there came a flash followed by a +crash that shook the shores. Lights danced +along the heights. Thunder answered thunder +and the roar of batteries from land and +water rent the air. Presently a blaze flickered, +flashed and then sprang up in a great +sheet of flame upon the heights throwing the +gunboat and the transport into a strong light, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +and turning the gloom of the black midnight +into the brilliancy of day. The Confederates +had fired a mass of combustibles with which +to spy out the whereabouts of their enemies.</p> + +<p>With the first burst of the artillery Jeanne +ran up on deck.</p> + +<p>“Back to the cabin, girl,” shouted the +Captain hoarsely. “This is no place for +you.”</p> + +<p>But as Jeanne turned to obey him a shot +tore through the cabin and fell hissing into +the water beyond. The girl paused. Captain +Leathers caught her arm and drew her +behind a bale of cotton.</p> + +<p>“Stay there!” he panted. “You will be +as safe as anywhere.”</p> + +<p>At this moment a terrible shape loomed +out of the darkness making straight for the +gunboat. A shout went up from the crews +of the gunboat and the transport as the rebel +ram Arkansas was recognized. Determined +to make a grand effort to escape, Captain +Leathers ordered all steam to be crowded on, +thinking to run down the river while the gunboat +engaged the ram.</p> + +<p>The Gem responded nobly to the appeal and +her prow cut the waters until they rolled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +from her in one mass of foam. But the Captain’s +design was penetrated instantly by the +enemy, and shot and shell sizzed through the +air like hail. It seemed miraculous that the +transport escaped being riddled.</p> + +<p>Meantime the gunboat saw that the ram +designed to run her down, and swinging +round, welcomed the visitor with a full broadside. +As the sound of the guns and their tremendous +reverberations ran along the shore, +the answer came in a terrific onslaught from +the batteries above. Pandemonium seemed +to have broken loose. Shot and shell whistled +and sang through the air carrying death and +desolation in their wake. Shouts and cries +added to the confusion of the moment.</p> + +<p>The ram, foiled in her first attempt to run +down the Yankee, withdrew a short distance +and turned again upon the boat. This time +she got her sharp bow full in upon the heavy +iron sides of the gunboat but her headway +was not sufficient to cause any very serious +damage. Before she could get away the Captain +of the Yankee vessel rushed upon the +hurricane deck and seizing a pistol shot the +rebel pilot dead. The rebel crew retaliated +by shooting him down. In the meantime the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +ram prepared for another blow, withdrawing +for a terrific onslaught.</p> + +<p>Just at this moment a shell struck the +magazine of the plucky gunboat. There was +an instantaneous explosion and the boat was +blown to atoms, her gallant crew perishing +with her.</p> + +<p>“We are doomed,” groaned Captain +Leathers. “Nothing can save us now. Are +you ready to die, little girl?”</p> + +<p>“Ready, Captain,” came from Jeanne’s pale +lips, and she arose from her place behind the +cotton. “But I want to die standing. I +wish we could shoot, Captain.”</p> + +<p>“So do I. But we are at their mercy. It +would be a relief to do something, but to die +without a chance for a shot. Ah!”</p> + +<p>The exclamation was caused by the fact +that the light of the bonfires was dying +down, and the transport was nearing the +turn of the lower bend. The shadows grew +deeper and longer, and soon only a pale +flickering flame remained of the brilliant +light of a short time before. Then the blackness +of night settled once more upon the +river and a cheer broke from the crew as the +transport rounded the lower bend of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +great loop upon which Vicksburg stood, and +passed out from under the batteries of the +modern Gibraltar.</p> + +<p>“Will that terrible vessel come after us?” +asked Jeanne hardly realizing that the danger +was over.</p> + +<p>“No, child. We are safe. The ram knows +that Farragut is somewhere near here, and +she will not venture out to-night. We are +safe; thank God!”</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” echoed the girl faintly. +“Safe! Oh, Captain, Captain!” and she +burst into a passion of weeping.</p> + +<p>“Why, my little heroine, what does this +mean?” cried Captain Leathers dismayed. +“You were cool enough through that fire of +grape and canister. ‘Ready to die,’ you said; +‘just so that you could die standing.’ It was +enough to frighten the bravest man, yet +you were not afraid. And now you break +down?”</p> + +<p>“Leab her ter me, massa,” said old Tenny +coming up on deck. “Jest you leab dat +chile ter ole Tenny. Ef dis night ain’t been +enuff ter make an angel weep den I dunno +nuffin. Lawsie, massa! I’se been suah dat +I wuz daid fer de las’ hour. Fiah an’ brimstone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +nebber scare me no mo’. De bad man +ain’t got no wuss ter gib dan dis has been, an’ +I knows it. Come, chile! Come, honey! +Ole Tenny’ll put yer ter bed now.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; that is the best place for her,” said +the Captain as the girl continued to sob uncontrollably. +“I’ll carry her down, Tenny, +and you see to her.”</p> + +<p>He lifted Jeanne up bodily in his arms, +and bore her into the cabin picking his +way carefully through the débris scattered +about.</p> + +<p>“I–I can’t help but cry,” sobbed Jeanne +with an effort at self-control.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, my little girl. Cry all you +want to. You are nervous and overwrought. +I feel as if I’d like to do the same if I wasn’t +a man. Sleep well because you are safe now, +and you won’t have any more of this to go +through. Good-night.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night,” murmured Jeanne and presently +she grew calm under Tenny’s soothing +ministrations.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span><a id='link_9'></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><span class='h2fs'>JEANNE MEETS THE HERO OF NEW ORLEANS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>It</span> was late before Jeanne awoke the next +morning. The sun was shining brightly and +she lay idly watching the dancing of the +sunbeams upon the wall scarcely realizing +where she was. Presently it all came back to +her, and a convulsive shudder shook her +frame as she seemed to hear again the whistle +of shot and shell, the cries of the wounded +and the shrieks of the unhappy crew of the +gunboat as it blew to atoms.</p> + +<p>“How can the sun shine after all that has +happened?” asked the girl with that wonder +that comes to all of us when, after some great +calamity, nature presents the same undisturbed +aspect. “Oh, how can I ever laugh +again!”</p> + +<p>“Is you ’wake, honey?” queried old Tenny +peering in at the door. “Massa Cap’n say +when it’s ’venient fer yer he laik ter hab yer +kum ter see ’Miral Farragut.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span>“What! have we reached Commodore Farragut? +He said ‘Commodore’ didn’t he, +Tenny?” inquired Jeanne, who did not know +that Farragut had been recently made a rear +admiral.</p> + +<p>“No, honey; he said ’Miral, I’se suah,” +returned the negress.</p> + +<p>Jeanne dressed quickly and then hastened +to Captain Leathers.</p> + +<p>“How are you this morning, Jeanne?” +was the Captain’s salutation. “Pretty thankful +to be on earth, aren’t you? Admiral,” +turning to a slight, modest looking middle +aged man with gray hair, “this is the girl +I was telling you about. She stood fire last +night like a veteran.”</p> + +<p>“You have shown yourself to be a true +heroine,” said Admiral Farragut taking her +hand. “It is not often that we meet such +courage in one so young.”</p> + +<p>“I never heard that you were deficient +in this quality,” said the Captain. “Seems +to me that I’ve heard of a number of your exploits +when you were a lad.”</p> + +<p>“I was a boy, Captain. One expects such +things from a lad but a tender, delicate little +girl,”–and he smiled such a winning smile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +at Jeanne that she involuntarily drew closer +to him,–“that is decidedly different. Boys +take to such things naturally unless they are +molly coddles. Were you not afraid, little +girl?”</p> + +<p>“Not until it was over,” answered Jeanne +shyly. “But it was a dreadful time. I can’t +help thinking of those poor men on the gunboat<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” +Her voice faltered and her eyes +filled with tears.</p> + +<p>“Yes, child.” The Admiral pressed her +hand warmly. “That is the worst part of it. +To lose such gallant fellows is one of the hard +things of war. And yet–there is no nobler +death than to fall in defense of one’s country. +But the Captain tells me that you have a +message for me.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I have a letter from my father +to Commodore Porter, and General Wallace +added a few lines for you. I will get it.”</p> + +<p>She ran to her stateroom and soon returned +with the letter. “It is for any one on our +side to read,” she said, as Farragut hesitated +slightly.</p> + +<p>“In that case,” smiled the Admiral. “I +will read it. So, my little one, it is very +necessary for you to get to New Orleans? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +You are young to be sent on business for +the government. Tell me what led you to +undertake such a thing.”</p> + +<p>“Because I love my country and wished to +do something for her,” replied Jeanne so +fervently that Farragut’s face kindled in +response.</p> + +<p>“Well said,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. +“That’s the stuff I wish that all Americans +were made of. But have you no mother?”</p> + +<p>“I have a dear mother,” answered Jeanne +quickly. “She was quite willing for me to +come as it was necessary. She made me this +flag,” drawing it from her bosom, “and told +me that not even for life itself must I betray +it. I have kissed it every night,” continued +the girl caressing its folds fondly, “and I +keep it right over my heart that no traitorous +thought may enter there.”</p> + +<p>“My dear child,” a tear glistened in the +Admiral’s eye, “you are a brave girl and +have a noble mother. So long as America +can produce such women there will be no +fear for the Union. You shall get to New +Orleans as quickly as possible. If it were +needful I would clear a passage with my +guns. But that will not be necessary. You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +will soon see the end of your journey. +Would that all messengers were as brave +as you have shown yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps they would be if they could meet +with such treatment as I have, sir. Some of +them are very bold and daring, and run +fearful risks. I have heard my father tell of +their narrow escapes. And some of them,” +and her eyes grew sorrowful, “never get +back. I have done nothing compared with +what many of them have done.”</p> + +<p>“It is a great deal,” said Farragut kindly. +“More than most girls could do.”</p> + +<p>And so petted and made much of by officers +and men the girl made the rest of her journey +down the river without incident. The entire +fleet of Farragut was brought to New Orleans +because the Admiral realized the futility +of taking Vicksburg without troops to hold +it. General Butler at New Orleans had none +to send him, and Halleck dawdled at Corinth +most inexplicably. Many of the men were +prostrated by fever and rest was a necessity.</p> + +<p>Into the crescent shaped harbor upon which +the city stood the fleet came to anchor, and +Jeanne, full of anticipation at the thought of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +seeing her uncle and the successful termination +of her mission, stood ready to go ashore. +Captain Leathers came to her side.</p> + +<p>“You are to go with Admiral Farragut,” +he said. “He will take you to General Butler +who will know just where to find your +uncle.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said Jeanne gratefully. +“How kind you have been to me, Captain +Leathers. I will never forget you.”</p> + +<p>“And I will never forget you,” said the +Captain heartily. “When people brave death +together it always makes them feel a sort of +kinship, don’t you think? And at any time +you want to go back I’ll carry you if I am +here.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said the girl again. They +shook hands and the Captain started to lead +her ashore when Tenny ran after them.</p> + +<p>“Shorely you ain’t gwine ter leab without +tellin’ ole Tenny good-bye, is yer?” she +panted.</p> + +<p>“No, no, Tenny. I hope to see you soon +again,” said Jeanne warmly for she had conceived +a real regard for the faithful creature. +“And I won’t forget about Snowball.”</p> + +<p>“Bress yer haht, I knows yer won’t. Ole +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +Tenny nebber cease ter gib thanks dat she +hab met yer. Good-bye, honey.”</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” said Jeanne again and then +she followed the Captain down the cotton +platform, which was raised above the levee for +the convenient loading of cotton, to the levee +itself, and along the banks to DeLord Street +where they were joined by Admiral Farragut. +Jeanne bade the Captain adieu and then +walked slowly by the Admiral’s side through +the busy streets en route for the St. Charles +Hotel where General Butler had his headquarters. +The city had recovered something +of its former activity, and wore its accustomed +garb of careless gaiety and business bustle.</p> + +<p>The markets were bright once more with +red bandannas and noisy with the many-tongued +chatter of the hucksters: Creole, +Spanish, French, German and English. A +perfect babel of tongues, and louder, more +obstreperous and broader mouthed than all +others rose the gleeful negro laughter.</p> + +<p>The day was warm and bright, and the +mulatto women with baskets of cakes, figs, +pomegranates, bananas, crape myrtles and +oleanders, filled the air with their musical +negro cries as they vended their wares. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +Nurses with children wearing Madras kerchiefs +of bright colors, wrinkled negro mammies, +Creoles with French or Spanish descent +plainly delineated upon their features and +soldiers, clad in the United States uniform, +thronged the banquettes and streets.</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked about her with curiosity, for +the quaint old city presented a thoroughly +different aspect to the cities of the North. +Many of the people were of sullen countenance, +some of them taking no pains to conceal +their dislike to their conquerors. The +stars and stripes hung everywhere. Hundreds +of flags hung over the banquettes and in +some places ropes of them were stretched +across the streets. To her amazement Jeanne +saw a well dressed woman go out into the +street to avoid walking under a flag which +hung over the banquette. A soldier seized +her unceremoniously and forced her to pass +under the emblem. With freezing hauteur +the woman raised her parasol and interposed +its shelter between her and the offending flag.</p> + +<p>“Verily, Butler hath his hands full,” quoth +the Admiral, and then he added: “You +wished to find your uncle, did you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” replied Jeanne, trying to overcome +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +her astonishment at what she saw. +“And yet I don’t know whether I should +find him first or not.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked the Admiral in surprise.</p> + +<p>“You know, sir, that I came down here on +business,” and as he nodded assent she continued. +“My father sent some papers to be +given to a man here in the service of the government. +I have always said that I was going +to Uncle Ben, but he is not the man. Father +told me not to mention the name until I +reached New Orleans and then only to some +one I could trust. The man’s name is John +Archer. Now do you think I should go to +him or to Uncle Ben first? I suppose Uncle +Ben would help me find him.”</p> + +<p>“I should find the man, child. In every +case when performing a duty finish that first +before doing anything else. You have shown +great prudence in not mentioning the name +before. General Butler will of course know +this Archer, and will see that you see him. +Then I know that he will gladly find your +uncle for you.”</p> + +<p>“I will do just as you say for you know +best. How glad father will be when he learns +how you have helped me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span>“Ought you not to send him some word?”</p> + +<p>“I will just as soon as I can say that I have +delivered the papers to Mr. Archer. He will +be so pleased. Then I will visit Uncle Ben +until father says for me to come home. Isn’t +it queer, Admiral, I have never seen my +uncle?”</p> + +<p>“You have not? But you have heard from +him?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; he came South years ago. Long +before I was born, but my father always +thought so much of him that I will be glad to +see him.”</p> + +<p>“In that case the very wisest thing to do is +to find John Archer,” said Farragut emphatically. +“This is the St. Charles, child.”</p> + +<p>They paused before the famous structure. +A broad piazza supported by pillars overarched +with stone ran along the front, making an imposing +entrance. The building was a handsome one, +and famed at one time as the finest +hotel in the States.</p> + +<p>Admiral Farragut and his charge were soon +admitted to General Butler’s presence. The +General had chosen the ladies’ parlor as his +official headquarters. The room was filled +with orderlies and sergeants each intent upon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +the performance of some duty. In the midst +of them sat General Butler. He received his +visitors courteously. His name familiar to +every American, spoken of by some in terms of +highest praise, and by others with opprobrium, +made Jeanne shrink a little closer to Farragut’s +side as the General greeted them. He +was of imposing presence. Not tall, but of +well-developed form and fine massive head; +not graceful in movement but of firm solid +aspect; self-possessed and slow of speech.</p> + +<p>“This is a great pleasure, Admiral,” he exclaimed +with heartiness. “Welcome back to +New Orleans.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, General,” returned Farragut. +“I should be glad to be here could I feel that I +have not left unfinished my work behind me.”</p> + +<p>“Vicksburg then is still untaken?”</p> + +<p>“I regret to answer, yes. But you are +making progress here. You have begun a +good work. I notice that the streets are being +cleaned.”</p> + +<p>“The condition of things demanded it,” returned +Butler. “The quality of the climate +is pernicious and wasting enough without +having to brave the terror of yellow fever. It +has been in self-defense.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span>“It takes a strong hand to rule the city, +does it not?”</p> + +<p>“A strong hand? Yes. I am subjected to +all sorts of abuse for my tyranny, as they call +it; but this one measure the strongest rebel +among them must approve. In time perhaps +they will see the need of all. My administration +may be vigorous, but of one thing rest assured: +So long as Benjamin F. Butler stays +in New Orleans the city shall acknowledge the +absolute and unquestioned supremacy of the +United States.”</p> + +<p>“There is no doubt but that she will with +you at the helm,” said the Admiral. “General, +do you know a man by the name of +Archer?”</p> + +<p>“John Archer?” asked the General, giving +a quick glance at him. “Well, to any one +else, Admiral, I should dissemble; but to you +I will say, yes. Why?”</p> + +<p>“This girl,” pushing Jeanne forward, “has +brought messages, papers, or something of that +nature for him from New York City: I +thought that perhaps you could arrange a +meeting with him for her. After that she has +an uncle in the city whom she wishes to +find.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span>“This girl?” General Butler eyed Jeanne +keenly. “Rather young for a messenger, isn’t +she?”</p> + +<p>“In years, perhaps; but she ran the fire of +the Vicksburg batteries in order to reach +here.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” General Butler looked at her +more closely. “Do you know John Archer, +child?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Orderly, bring in the man Archer,” commanded +the General.</p> + +<p>A look of surprise passed over Farragut’s +face, but he made no remark. Presently the +orderly returned with a man.</p> + +<p>“Archer,” said the General quietly, “this +girl has brought some papers for you.”</p> + +<p>There was a startled expression on the +man’s face, and he looked at Jeanne with +something like apprehension. General Butler +turned his attention to Admiral Farragut, +and Jeanne was left face to face with the man +whom she had come so far to see.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span><a id='link_10'></a>CHAPTER X<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN UNFORESEEN RESULT</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>He</span> was not an agreeable looking man and +Jeanne felt an instinctive distrust of him instantly. +For a few moments she hesitated, +and the thought came to her that she would +not give him the papers. But was it not for +this very thing that she had come to New +Orleans? What would her father say if she +did not fulfil her trust?</p> + +<p>“You wished to see me?” said John +Archer, and it seemed to Jeanne that he was +trying to make signs to her.</p> + +<p>“If you are Mr. John Archer?” and +Jeanne looked at him steadily. “I came +from Mr. Richard Vance.”</p> + +<p>“Vance? Richard Vance?” repeated the +other as if the name conveyed nothing of importance +to his mind. “What Vance?”</p> + +<p>“Why Richard Vance of New York City,” +answered Jeanne in astonishment. She had +inferred from what her father had said that +John Archer would be well acquainted with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +the name. “He is my father, and he has +sent me to you with some papers. If you are +Mr. John Archer?”</p> + +<p>“I am he,” answered the man, “but I +know nothing about any papers.”</p> + +<p>“I thought that you would,” murmured +Jeanne. There seemed something strange to +her in the way the man was acting. “My +mother sewed them into my petticoat,” she +continued with a growing reluctance against +parting with them. “If there is any place +where I could go I would get them. It +seemed the best way to carry them.”</p> + +<p>“Orderly,” interposed General Butler turning +to them, “take the young lady to Mrs. +Butler. My wife will gladly assist you,” he +added to Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said Jeanne, gratefully hurrying +after the Orderly. They soon reached +the apartments set aside for the use of General +Butler’s wife, and she herself opened the door +in answer to the Orderly’s knock.</p> + +<p>“Come right in,” she said cordially in response +to Jeanne’s rapid explanation. “You +are young to be sent on such an errand, my +dear. But the times are such that we cannot +always choose our messengers. Very often +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +the young prove more reliable than older +persons. You say that they are in your petticoat, +my child?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” returned Jeanne. “You +see it made my frock stand out like crinoline +and no one would think it was anything else.”</p> + +<p>“And a good place it is too,” replied the +lady busy with her scissors. “You have a +thoughtful mother.”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Butler,” said the little girl suddenly +after she and the lady had finished their task +and the papers lay before them, “do you +know John Archer?”</p> + +<p>“No, child. Why?”</p> + +<p>“He is the man to whom my father sent +these papers,” said the girl thoughtfully. +“Someway I do not like him. I wish he +were not the man.”</p> + +<p>“My dear,” reproved the lady gently, “we +ought not to let our fancies dominate us. If +the man came to the General’s rooms and was +received there, rest assured that he is all right. +The General has means of knowing whether a +man is to be trusted or not.”</p> + +<p>“True,” replied Jeanne, and feeling that it +would be ungracious to give further expression +to her distrust she went slowly back to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +the parlor. Why should she, a mere child, +presume to doubt a man whom the General +and even her own father trusted? “But I do +wish,” sighed she as she opened the door of +the apartment. “I do wish that he were not +the man.”</p> + +<p>“Here are the papers,” she said, going +straight to Mr. Archer.</p> + +<p>“Thank you.” Archer took the papers +mechanically and without another word or +look at her turned to the Orderly, and was +conducted from the room.</p> + +<p>Jeanne stood looking after him somewhat +dismayed. Was this all? Some way she had +thought, had expected it to be so different. +Mr. Huntsworth, Captain Leathers, even the +great Farragut had seemed to consider that +she had done wonders in carrying the papers +but this man thought nothing of her action. +Tears of disappointment welled to her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, child,” said Farragut seeing +her distress. “Some people are so matter of +fact that they suppose the whole world is of +the same way of thinking. Besides, the consciousness +of a good action is its own reward.”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” said Jeanne, “I know that it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +ought to be. It says so in my copy-book. +But I thought that it would be so different.”</p> + +<p>“It would be a fine thing if all our acts +would receive approbation,” remarked General +Butler. “Brass bands and calcium +lights are things that human nature craves +for deeds well done, but they are seldom +given. That is, until one dies.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be cynical, General,” laughed Farragut. +“The child will find it out soon +enough.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I suppose so,” replied Butler. +“Didn’t you say something about an uncle, +Admiral?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; that is the next thing in order. +She is to stay with him until her father tells +her to return. Her uncle is Benjamin +Vance.”</p> + +<p>“Whe-ew,” whistled the General an expression +of blank amazement on his face. +“Did you say Benjamin Vance?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. Do you know him?”</p> + +<p>“I do,” replied the General emphatically. +“And this girl is his niece, and she brings +papers down here to Archer? It is about the +boldest thing I ever heard of!”</p> + +<p>“Why! What do you mean?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span>“I’ll tell you presently. Come here, girl. +Do you hear often from your uncle?” he +asked as Jeanne approached.</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Father has not heard from him +in years. He came South long before I was +born, but I remembered that he lived here +when I was getting father to let me bring the +papers.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it strange that you should have remembered +it just at that time?” questioned +Butler sharply.</p> + +<p>“Why, no,” answered the girl regarding +him with wide open eyes. “I have heard +my father speak of Uncle Ben all my life, +and when New Orleans was mentioned I +always thought of him. So I said that I was +coming to see Uncle Ben when I was truly +bringing the papers to Mr. Archer. Father +thought it was best.”</p> + +<p>“I see. What is in the papers?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sir.” Jeanne looked at +him so innocently that he was compelled to +believe her.</p> + +<p>“Well, you at least, are innocent, I do believe. +Now, child, what else did you bring? +Anything for your uncle?”</p> + +<p>“I brought him some quinine,” answered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +Jeanne half laughing. “Father had it fixed +for me in my lunch basket. He said if I +should fall in with the rebels and they questioned +me too closely I was to own up about +it. See! here is the basket. The quinine is +right down in this place.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand about the thing,” said +the General in a low tone to the Admiral. +“The girl is either the most innocent person +in the world and everything is exactly as she +says, or she is a consummate actress, young as +she is.”</p> + +<p>“General, what in the world do you +mean?” queried Farragut.</p> + +<p>“I mean,” said General Butler sternly, +“that it looks very much to me as if some +mischief were afloat. John Archer is under +arrest for disloyalty to the government. Naturally +this makes it bad for the girl.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Farragut gravely, “why did +you permit him to have those papers?”</p> + +<p>“He will not have them long. Did you +not notice an Orderly go out after him?”</p> + +<p>“I saw a man go out, but I thought nothing +of it,” was the response.</p> + +<p>“That man has his orders. Archer was +relieved of the papers as soon as he left the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +room. I wanted to get all the evidence +against him that I could hence I did not tell +you about the matter at first. I thought that +he might recognize the girl or she him.”</p> + +<p>“I believe that you are wrong,” said Farragut +earnestly. “I know nothing of course +about Archer, but I would stake my life that +what the girl says is true. It would be bold +indeed to deliver documents serviceable to the +enemy under our very noses.”</p> + +<p>“The very boldness of the scheme would +make it successful. Besides, the fellow’s +arrest is recent. His accomplices in the +North cannot possibly have heard of it as +yet. He has been in the service of the Union +until suspected of furnishing information to +the enemy. You can see why the girl would +deliver the papers before us. Another thing, +her uncle, Benjamin Vance, is one of the +worst rebels in the city.”</p> + +<p>“What!” cried Farragut.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“But she is too young to enter into any +such scheme.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! you do not know these people as I +do. They are perfectly unscrupulous as regards +ways and means when it comes to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +carrying a point. Do you know the girl’s +father? I judged not from what you told me +of meeting with her.”</p> + +<p>“No,” admitted Farragut. “But she carried +a letter to Commodore Porter with a few +lines from Wallace at Memphis to me. +Really you must be mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Letters can be forged,” said Butler sententiously. +“And sometimes wheedled from +officers, as we know to our sorrow. She may +be but a tool of persons who hope that +her youth will protect her from the consequences. +You must confess that it looks bad. +Ah, Johnson,” as his Orderly made his appearance, +“did you get them?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne started forward with a cry of +amazement as the Orderly laid upon the table +the very papers which she had given John +Archer but a short time before.</p> + +<p>General Butler spread them before him for +inspection.</p> + +<p>“You can see for yourself that they contain +important information,” he said to Farragut. +“This thing would be all right if Archer were +loyal; otherwise it may show how it happens +that the enemy obtains so much information +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span> +that it should not. The girl is certainly +an emissary of the Confederates.”</p> + +<p>“A what?” cried Jeanne starting forward +indignantly, for the General had raised his +voice and she had overheard the last words. +“What did you say, sir?”</p> + +<p>“I said,” and the General turned to her +abruptly and spoke sternly, “that unless you +can prove otherwise, that you are sent with +these papers to Archer for the rebels.”</p> + +<p>“Why, my father sent me,” cried the girl +blankly. “He is in the employ of the +government and so is Mr. Archer.”</p> + +<p>“Archer was until quite recently, but he is +now under arrest on strong suspicion of +giving information to the enemy. You see +everything is known, child. Tell the truth. +Who sent you here?”</p> + +<p>“My father,” said Jeanne again, looking +piteously from one to the other. “Oh, what +does he mean, Admiral? What does he +mean?”</p> + +<p>“Child,” Farragut took her hand kindly. +“Tell me truly. What is your father?”</p> + +<p>“He is in the employ of the government,” +reiterated Jeanne vehemently. “He sends +communications all over the states, because +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +he told me so. He said that telegraphs were +not to be trusted, nor the mails either. For +that reason people were sent to the different +cities with information about the government.”</p> + +<p>“That proves nothing,” said the General, +“unless it can be substantiated. Why then +do you want to visit your uncle–if you are +loyal–when he is such a rebel?”</p> + +<p>“A rebel?” cried Jeanne recoiling in horror. +“Is my uncle a rebel?”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span><a id='link_11'></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><span class='h2fs'>CLEARED OF SUSPICION</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> girl stared at them as if unable to +believe the evidence of her senses.</p> + +<p>“A rebel!” she repeated wildly. “My +uncle a rebel? It cannot be!”</p> + +<p>Her consternation was so apparent that +General Butler almost believed in her. Farragut’s +clouded face cleared instantly, and he +turned to the other quickly.</p> + +<p>“Whatever scheme is afoot that girl knows +nothing of it,” he said. “Why, Butler, she +carries a United States flag in her breast, +and you should hear her talk. I am sure +that she is as loyal to the Union as either +you or I.”</p> + +<p>“It may be, Admiral. One thing in her +favor is the fact that you believe in her. Let +me see! How was it that you said she came +from Vicksburg?”</p> + +<p>“Did I not tell you? She came with +Captain Leathers from Memphis. The transport, +The Gem, joined us just below Vicksburg. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +He brought us supplies, and there +is absolutely no question with regard to his +sentiments. They have been proved over +and over again.”</p> + +<p>“Of course the girl may be all right and +everything be just as she says,” said General +Butler again. “As I say the thing in her +favor is that she came here to ask for Archer. +I suppose it was because she knew no one. +Had she sought her uncle first<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“I advised her to come here,” said Farragut +in a low tone. “I told her to find Archer +first, and then to seek for her uncle, and she +acquiesced without hesitation.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that she is deep. Of course +the whole thing was concocted in New York +City. They could not know that Archer had +been arrested, and this information would +have been sent to the Confederates as other +plans have been. I tremble to think of the +consequences had these papers fallen into their +hands. Really, traitors are everywhere. I +had hoped that the government had gotten +rid of them by this time.”</p> + +<p>Meantime Jeanne was just recovering from +the shock of learning that her uncle was a +rebel. She had not heard the conversation of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +the two officers, and now she came to Admiral +Farragut turning to him instinctively +in her distress.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” she asked. “I can’t +go to Uncle Ben if he is a rebel. Oh, what +will father say!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, child. What shall be done, +General? You command here.”</p> + +<p>“The girl must go to her uncle,” said the +General decidedly. “There to remain until +I sift this thing to the bottom. Meantime +she must take the oath of allegiance to the +United States.”</p> + +<p>“The oath?” cried Jeanne. “Why should +I take the oath, General Butler? I thought +that it was only for those whose loyalty to the +Union was doubted.”</p> + +<p>“That is it precisely,” returned General +Butler coldly. “If you are sincere in your +avowed devotion to your country, the oath +won’t hurt you. If you are not then you will +either perjure yourself or else be registered as +an open enemy to the United States.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne was dumb with anguish. She, +Jeanne Vance, an open enemy of the United +States! Of the country for which she was +ready to give her life! She gave one stricken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +glance at the austere man before her, and +burst into tears.</p> + +<p>“Come, come, General,” said Farragut laying +a kindly hand on the girl’s bowed head, +“you are too severe, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all. Every man, woman and +child in this city must take this oath, or be +known as an enemy of the Union. It works +no hardship if one is loyal, and acts as a restraining +power on those who are not. The +authority of the Union must be recognized +while the city is under my charge.”</p> + +<p>“Take the oath, child. That is, if you can +do so conscientiously. But whatever be the +consequences accept them as a brave girl, and +perjure yourself for no man,” advised Farragut.</p> + +<p>“I will,” said Jeanne chokingly. “It isn’t +because of the oath that I feel bad, Admiral. +It is because my loyalty to the Union has +been doubted. Do you think that I would +carry this,” and she drew the flag from the +bosom of her dress, “if I were not for the +Union? I kiss its folds each night, and with +it before me, I pray for the success of my +country.” She kissed it passionately as she +spoke.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span>“That action speaks for itself,” remarked +General Butler with such a change of tone +that Jeanne looked up hastily. “No rebel +woman or girl that I have ever known would +kiss that flag. I have hard work to make +them even walk under it. Forgive me, child, +for doubting you, but treachery lurks under +so many different forms that I am forced to +suspect even children.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose,” suggested the Admiral, relieved +that the General had come to his way of +thinking, “suppose you begin at the beginning +and tell us all about this business. How +many have you in the family?”</p> + +<p>“Four,” answered Jeanne promptly, a little +comfort creeping into her heart at the change +in the General’s manner. “Father who works +for the government, mother who is in the +Monarch Relief Association, and Dick who is +in the army.”</p> + +<p>“Your brother is in the Union army?” +queried the General.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“That is easily verified,” said the General, +making a note of the fact. “Now how did +you come to be sent down here?”</p> + +<p>Jeanne recounted the circumstances of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +affair rapidly not even omitting her mother’s +parting words of counsel. Both men listened +with close attention.</p> + +<p>“And you knew nothing whatever of your +Uncle Ben?” asked Butler when she had finished.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; father has not heard from him in +many years. He will be grieved to learn that +he is a rebel,” and her eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>“I have no doubt of it. Now, my little +girl, I am going to send you to your uncle +until I can look up the truth of your story.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you send me home?” asked the +girl wistfully, a sudden yearning possessing +her for the refuge of her mother’s arms.</p> + +<p>“I will soon. There are dangers by land +and by sea, and, as your father told you to +wait until you heard from him, I think that +it would be wise to do so. It will be best for +you to see for yourself what manner of man +your uncle is so that you can tell your father. +Good-bye,” and he held out his hand. “Come +in to see me sometimes while you are here.”</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” said Jeanne, shaking hands +with him as in duty bound. She gave him a +look of reproach and then turned to Farragut.</p> + +<p>“This has been a hard trial for you, child,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +said the Admiral. “You have come through +with colors flying though. I believe that you +always will.”</p> + +<p>“It has taught me,” said the girl with quivering +lips, “that there are worse things than +cannon balls and grape shot. I would rather +face Vicksburg a dozen times than to go +through this again.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t take it too much to heart.” Farragut +patted her hand with great gentleness. +“It was a severe ordeal, but truth will always +prevail. Just think what it would have been +had you really been guilty. Your conscience +at least was clear.”</p> + +<p>“I did not like Mr. Archer,” said Jeanne +musingly, loth to leave this friend. “I told +Mrs. Butler so. I did not want to give him +the papers.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you say so?” cried the General.</p> + +<p>“Because you had received him here and I +thought that of course he was all right. It +would have been presumption on my part to +have spoken against him when my father sent +me to him, and I did not know anything +against him really. Besides, I did not dream +that any one could doubt my loyalty.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span>“You must forgive me,” said the General +humbly, seeing how deeply the girl was hurt. +“You don’t know what I have to put up with +or you would. When you have been here a +short time you will realize the situation better +than you do now. When you do, will you +come to me and be friends?”</p> + +<p>“Yes;” and Jeanne smiled a little for the +first time.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” and the Admiral extended his +hand as the girl prepared to accompany the +Orderly detailed by the General to conduct +her to her uncle’s house. “I hope to see you +again soon.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so too,” answered Jeanne. Then +as she clasped his hand she cried half hysterically. +“Oh, Admiral, I am afraid to go. I +am afraid!”</p> + +<p>“No, you’re not, child. You are tired and +nervous. Be brave. Meet your uncle as if +nothing had happened. I dare say that you +will find him kind and good.”</p> + +<p>“But he is a rebel,” sobbed Jeanne in such +heartrending tones that both men smiled involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“Well, some of them are very good men,” +said Farragut. “They are mistaken in their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +views and need teaching a great many things, +but otherwise they are a warm-hearted people. +I am from the South myself, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Are you?” asked the girl surprised, yet +she had wondered at his soft Southern voice.</p> + +<p>“Yes; a Tennesseean. You seem to think +that I am all right.”</p> + +<p>“You are,” replied Jeanne so heartily that +Farragut laughed outright. “But Uncle Ben +didn’t take New Orleans.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you can get his services for us yet, +and he may do something better than to take +New Orleans. That may be your work here.”</p> + +<p>“I doubt it,” spoke General Butler emphatically. +“There is no rebel so unregenerate as +a renegade Yankee. There may be some excuse +for those born in this section of the country, +but for a Yankee who embraces the pernicious +doctrine of secession there is none. +The Orderly waits, my child.”</p> + +<p>Farewells were again exchanged, and Jeanne +followed reluctantly after her guide.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span><a id='link_12'></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN UNEXPECTED GREETING</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> Orderly called a cab and assisted +Jeanne into it, putting her satchel and basket +beside her. Then springing in he gave the +order and they were off.</p> + +<p>Past Lafayette Square with its city hall, +churches and Odd Fellows Hall which were +grouped round it with fine effect they went, +and on into that portion of the city that was +known as the Faubourg Marigny whose residences +were built with more architectural +generosity, broader spaces, longer vistas, ampler +gardens and with more sacrifices to the +picturesque than the part of the city through +which they had just passed.</p> + +<p>At last the cab turned into the courtyard +of a massive brick building. It was a true +Spanish building with broad doorways and +windows, the roof of which was a solid terrace +surrounded by a stone balustrade. The +establishment had all the privacy of isolation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +and seclusion and was a charming spot. The +gardens were very large and spacious, and +fragrant with the blossoms from the magnolia +groves. The avenue to the house was shaded +with orange trees that later would be redolent +with perfume and beautiful beyond description. +Fruit trees were everywhere. Pomegranate, +peach, banana, fig, pear interspersed +with rose trees and jasmine whose odors ravished +the senses.</p> + +<p>The cab swept in an extensive circle round +the courtyard to the carriage step before the +broad doorway. A tall gentleman, elegantly +appareled, stood leaning in an easy attitude +against one of the pillars of the broad piazza +smoking a cigar. He advanced to meet the +arrivals as the Orderly threw open the door of +the cab and handed out the girl.</p> + +<p>“General Butler presents his compliments +to Mr. and Madame Vance,” he said, with a +deep bow, “and begs to introduce to them +their niece, Miss Vance of New York.”</p> + +<p>“My niece!” exclaimed the gentleman +giving Jeanne a look of astonishment. “I +have none unless my brother has a daughter. +Are you Dick’s child?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied Jeanne, her heart beating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +quickly. “You are Uncle Ben, aren’t you?” +with a trace of wistfulness in her voice.</p> + +<p>“I am Benjamin Vance at least,” was the +answer. “Come in. I don’t know your +name, but you are welcome if you are Dick’s +daughter.”</p> + +<p>“I am Richard Vance’s daughter,” replied +Jeanne with some dignity.</p> + +<p>“Then you are certainly my niece, though +what in the world you are doing here is more +than I can see. Dick is well, is he? But +come in. You shall tell me all about it +later.”</p> + +<p>He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and +without a glance or word for the Orderly +drew her up the brick stairs and through the +hall, whose stairway was beautiful enough for +a palace with its elaborate, fantastic, hand-wrought +iron railing, and on to the door of a +salon. A beautiful woman swept graciously +forward to meet them. She was very dark +with brilliant black eyes and silky hair of +raven hue. Her manner was easy, graceful +and rather impassioned, and her features +showed unmistakably her French descent.</p> + +<p>“Clarisse,” said the gentleman, “this is my +niece who has honored us with a visit. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +think that I have told you of my brother, +Richard. She is his daughter and is from +New York City.”</p> + +<p>“Mais!” exclaimed the lady, with a laugh +and speaking with a decidedly French accent. +“You surprise me! I knew not that you had +a niece. Why did you not tell me? It is one +bad husband you are not to tell me of the +dear demoiselle. You are welcome, child. +She resembles you, mon ami,” taking Jeanne’s +face between her hands and giving her a long +look. “We shall be great friends, my dear. +Is it not so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes;” Jeanne’s lips quivered and her +eyes filled suddenly with tears at this unexpected +greeting. Her mission had ended so +differently from the way she had anticipated;–the +doubt of her loyalty and the knowledge +that her uncle was a rebel had filled her heart +with misgivings so that this welcome was almost +more than she could bear. But as this +gleam of sunshine comforted her, she steeled +herself against its influence and drew herself +up bravely.</p> + +<p>“I must tell you something,” she said, +“before you welcome me too warmly. I am +for the Union.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span>She did not dare to look at them as she +spoke. Her thought was that they must +know her principles before going further. +She was homesick and longing for love and +tenderness, but not for one moment would +she receive them under false pretenses. A +glance flashed from husband to wife and then +a clear, silvery laugh rang out as the lady +caught her to her.</p> + +<p>“You dear little Yankee! you are too +ridiculous for anything! Did you think we +would turn you out because you were not a +rebel? Well, we are rebels, my dear, but as +we have to stand that odious, uncouth General +Butler of yours I think we won’t mind a +little thing like you. Come now, and I will +take you to your room and you shall rest. +Then you shall tell us why you have come all +this way to see us at such a time.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne returned her caresses with fervor, +and abandoned herself to the delight of being +fondled and petted again as only children +can do who have been deprived of endearments +after being accustomed to them.</p> + +<p>“They are nice people,” she whispered as +the lady left her in a cool quiet room. “I +wonder if it is wrong to like them? But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +it is father’s brother, and I ought to love +them. Oh, I do wish they were not rebels! +How can they be traitors when they are so +good!”</p> + +<p>After she had rested her uncle’s wife came +for her.</p> + +<p>“You are not weary now, are you?” she +asked in her soft, caressing voice. “You +looked so fatigued, child. Tell me, what is +your name?”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne? Oh, you darling! That is +French, isn’t it? I did not know that the +Americans ever named their children so. +Jeanne! It is delightful.”</p> + +<p>“And you are Aunt Clarisse?”</p> + +<p>“Ma foi, Jeanne! Do not call me anything +so prim. Call me ‘Cherie.’ Aunt +Clarisse indeed!” She laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>“Cherie! what does it mean?” asked the +girl wonderingly, gazing at the bright face +above her with delight. “It should be something +brilliant and sweet to suit you, I think. +Something like rich red roses heavy with +perfume and sweetness.”</p> + +<p>“You little flatterer! And you call yourself +a Yankee? No, no; Yankees do not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +make speeches like that. You are French as +your name is.”</p> + +<p>“But I like to be a Yankee,” cried Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Be what you like, little one, so long as +you are as sweet as you are. But now let us +go down to your uncle, after you take one +little cup of coffee. So! Now we are +ready.”</p> + +<p>The two descended to the drawing-room +arm in arm, and there Jeanne related all the +circumstances that led to her coming to New +Orleans, concealing nothing. Her deep love +and attachment to her country glowed +through the narrative like a golden thread. +The lady and gentleman listened in silence +until she related General Butler’s doubt of +herself, when her uncle sprang to his feet with +an exclamation.</p> + +<p>“The scoundrel!” he cried. “To subject +you to such treatment. And we are helpless. +Yes; we are helpless. Day after day some +new act of injustice comes to our ears and we +must submit. But our time is coming, and I +fancy that Butler won’t relish what his high +handed proceedings will bring him.”</p> + +<p>“He is truly a beast without the instincts +of a gentleman,” cried Madame Vance, excitedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +“That is our name for him, Jeanne. +‘Beast’ Butler, and well he deserves it.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne moved uneasily.</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t pleasant,” she said, “and it was +a new thing to me to have my loyalty questioned, +but I think he must have to do that +way. You are so against him, you know, +that if he were not careful you might rise up +and drive him out. And the Union must +have New Orleans. Father says that the +rebellion can never be put down unless the +Mississippi River is in our possession.”</p> + +<p>“True for you, my little Yankee. And +that is just where the Union will fail. They +did take New Orleans through the cowardice +of its defenders, but they’ll never get Vicksburg. +And so long as we can hold that the +Confederacy is safe. But you say that you +ran past the Vicksburg batteries. Tell that +again.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne retold that portion of her story to +please him.</p> + +<p>“I am glad that you are here, child,” remarked +Mr. Vance when she had finished. +“But I am surprised at Brother Dick’s sending +you to face such dangers. He always was +an enthusiast in anything that he undertook, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +and undervalued life if it stood in the way of +accomplishing his object.”</p> + +<p>“Father did not know that it was so risky,” +said Jeanne unwilling to hear aught against +her father. “He would not have sent me if +he had. Besides I wanted to come, and I am +glad that I did come, now that I have met +you and Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I am glad for you to know her too,” +said Uncle Ben, his Yankee tones sounding in +flat contrast with his wife’s sibilant ones. “I +always intended taking her North to see +Dick’s folks, but just as we were ready to go +this war came on and here we are now at the +mercy of that Yankee.”</p> + +<p>“But you are a Yankee too, Uncle Ben,” +said Jeanne bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Ages ago, little one. He has gotten over +all that now,” said Madame Vance softly. +“After you have been with us awhile you +will get over your rank Unionism too.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne shook her head decidedly.</p> + +<p>“Dear Cherie,” she said, “nothing could +ever make me disloyal to my flag. See! I +always carry it with me.”</p> + +<p>She drew the flag from her bosom and +waved it proudly before her. Madame Vance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +gasped, and her husband’s face darkened perceptibly.</p> + +<p>“Little one, you will not carry it while +here, will you? To please me, dear, never +take it out again.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but I must,” said Jeanne. “I promised +my own dear mother that I would look +at it every night and I must keep my promise. +I wish I could please you, Cherie, but I +cannot. But I will do this much. I will not +take it out before you any more. I ought to +respect your feelings, I know.”</p> + +<p>“So much gained,” murmured the lady +aside to her husband. To Jeanne she only +said quietly:</p> + +<p>“Thank you, dear. You are an amiable +little thing, and you shall have my favorite +darky for your maid while you are here. I +will call Snowball and she will help you to +dress for dinner.”</p> + +<p>“Snowball,” echoed Jeanne.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span><a id='link_13'></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>Yes</span>; Snowball,” repeated Madame. “A +quaint name, is it not? She is so black that +I fancy that was the reason it was given her. +She bore it when your uncle bought her. She +is very bright, and a master hand at waiting +upon one.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne made no further remark but eagerly +scanned the face of the darky as she entered. +She was indeed very black, and her shining +ivories were always visible in a smile. Good +nature was written all over her countenance, +but Jeanne could see no resemblance to Tenny.</p> + +<p>“She may not be the one after all,” she +mused.</p> + +<p>“Snowball,” said Madame. “Miss Jeanne +will be your young lady now. Your duty +will be to attend to her and to look after her +clothes while she is here.”</p> + +<p>“Yes’m;” Snowball dropped a curtsy. +“Does yer want me ter do anything now, little +missy?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span>“Yes; help her to dress for dinner,” replied +Madame Vance speaking for Jeanne. +“We dine at eight, my dear.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne followed the black to the room +which had been given her, and Snowball proceeded +to brush her hair.</p> + +<p>“Snowball,” said the girl suddenly, “was +your mother named Tennessee? And did +they call her Tenny for short?”</p> + +<p>“Bress yer soul, honey, yes,” cried Snowball +letting the brush fall in her astonishment. +“How kum yer ter know dat?”</p> + +<p>“She was on the boat with me when I came +from Memphis,” replied Jeanne. “She told +me all about losing you and how much she +thought of you, but she thought that Colonel +Peyton bought you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes’m, he did. But de Kuhnel went +to de wah an’ he say he hab too many +darkies, so he sell off all but de ones he hab +de longes’, an’ Massa Vance bought me. +What my ole mammy say?”</p> + +<p>“She loves you very much, and she misses +you greatly, Snowball. I wish I could buy +you and set you free. Then you could go +North to live with her.”</p> + +<p>“Wish yer could. I’d laik dat. An’ I’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +laik de bes’ in de wohld ter see my ole +mammy ergain. How’d she look, missy?”</p> + +<p>Jeanne told the girl all that she could +recall about Tenny. How she looked and +what she had said. Snowball’s eyes glistened +as she talked.</p> + +<p>“Yer got a good heart, little missy,” she +said as Jeanne paused for breath. “You +is de bestest lill’ lady dat I eber seed. Snowball’ll +lub ter wait on yer.”</p> + +<p>And Jeanne soon found that it was really a +labor of love to the girl, and they grew to be +fast friends despite the difference in color and +condition. In fact she soon found that she +felt more at home with the colored girl than +she did with her aunt in spite of the caresses +which the latter lavished upon her.</p> + +<p>The days passed into weeks, and the weeks +into months until two had rolled by and +Jeanne was still in New Orleans. She had +grown pale and thin and worn. She had no +illness but suffered the bad effects of the +wasting climate. In all the time she had +been there no word had come to her from her +parents, and a great longing for home possessed +her.</p> + +<p>“Why does not my father write for me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +she murmured one morning as she sat listlessly +before the window. “What can have +happened? Something is wrong I know, or +he would have sent for me.”</p> + +<p>“Why so triste, my love?” asked her aunt +entering the room.</p> + +<p>“Cherie,” and Jeanne returned the caress +that Madame bestowed upon her. “I am +wishing for my mother and home. I wonder +why I have not heard from my father.”</p> + +<p>“It is strange,” admitted the lady. “And +yet, child, when one considers the state of the +country and how the Yankees seize mails and +telegrams, and exercise such a rigorous espionage +over them one cannot wonder after +all. I have no doubt that he has written, but +that his letters are being detained for some +reason by ‘Beast’ Butler.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne made no reply. She had ceased +for some time saying anything when her aunt +launched forth in a tirade against the Yankees. +She was as staunch a patriot as ever, +but, without words, it had been borne in +upon her mind that her sentiments were unwelcome +to her uncle and aunt, and that +it would be better for her not to give utterance +to them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span>“Where is Snowball?” asked Madame +Vance presently. “I wish to take you for a +drive, and you are not dressed. That darky +gets more shiftless every day. Where is +she?”</p> + +<p>“Hyar I is, missus.” Snowball started up +from behind a huge brocaded chair so quickly +that she overturned a low table upon which +stood a ewer that had contained orangeade. +A crash followed, and the culprit stood looking +at the fragments of the pitcher with consternation +written over her face.</p> + +<p>“Come here,” and Madame’s tone was +so stern that Jeanne looked at her startled. +“Forty lashes you shall have for this.”</p> + +<p>“Please’m, missus, lemme off dis time. +Clar ter goodness I didn’t go ter do it.”</p> + +<p>“Please, please,” said Jeanne tearfully. +She had heard the sound of whippings once +or twice, but her aunt had always taken +her away from the sound immediately, and +her soul sickened at the thought of them. +“I could not bear to have Snowball whipped, +Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“She must be punished,” said the lady +harshly. “Such carelessness cannot be tolerated +for a moment.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span>“But isn’t there some other way?” cried +Jeanne. “Do, do, dear Cherie, use some +other way of punishment.”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne, I beg you to say no more. Am I +not capable of administering the affairs of my +own household? I want no Yankee notions +down here. I understand what she needs.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne did not dare to reply. She had +never before seen her aunt angry although +she knew that the blacks were very much +afraid of her. Snowball was taken down +into the yard, and soon Jeanne heard the +most fearful screams as if a human being was +suffering the utmost that a mortal could +endure of agony.</p> + +<p>She could not bear the cries. She ran +down the stairs and out into the yard where +she beheld the girl stretched upon the ground +on her face, her feet tied to a stake, her hands +held by a black man, her back uncovered +from her head to her heels. Her aunt was +standing by directing a burly negro in his +task of applying the lash.</p> + +<p>The girl’s back was covered with blood. +Every stroke of the instrument of torture +tore up the flesh in long dark ridges. With +a cry of horror Jeanne caught the man’s arm +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +as it was about to descend for another +stroke.</p> + +<p>“Stop,” she cried. “For the love of +mercy, stop!”</p> + +<p>“Go into the house, girl,” commanded +Madame Vance in terrible tones. “Who are +you that you should interfere with my bidding? +Have I not the right to do with my +own slave as I wish? I want none of your +abolitionism here.”</p> + +<p>“But she has been whipped enough,” cried +Jeanne. “Surely it is enough. I cannot +bear it.”</p> + +<p>She burst into tears. For a moment +Madame’s face was convulsed with fury, and +then a wonderful change came over it. She +was once again the smiling, affectionate +lady that had greeted the girl on her arrival.</p> + +<p>“There!” she said going to Jeanne and +putting her arms about her. “You shall +have your way. You see that ‘Cherie’ can +refuse you nothing. Put up your strap, Jeff. +I will let the girl off this time because Miss +Jeanne wishes it. But see that you are more +careful next time, Snowball. You might not +get off so easily.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span>“Yes, missus,” responded the sobbing creature +as she was helped upon her feet.</p> + +<p>“Now come, Jeanne, and we will go for our +drive. You have no idea how troublesome +these blacks are, my dear. One has to keep +an iron hand upon them to hold them in subjection. +But of course you are not used to +them.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Jeanne shrinking a little from +her caresses. “We don’t have slavery at the +North. I never felt so thankful of it before. +Poor things! Poor things!”</p> + +<p>Madame Vance’s brow darkened, but she +smoothed the girl’s hair softly.</p> + +<p>“And aren’t you going to forgive your poor +‘Cherie’? Are you going to turn against her +because of a little whipping? You are unjust, +Jeanne. We who have the blacks to +deal with know more of this matter than you +do. Besides did I not give it up when you +asked me?”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” answered Jeanne trying to +feel the same toward the beautiful woman as +she had before, but too full of the recent +horror to do so. “I am not used to such +things, Cherie, and it will take some time for +me to get over them.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span>“We will say no more about it, you quaint +one, but go for our drive.”</p> + +<p>And soon they were out in the bright sunshine, +the lady pointing out places of interest +as she had often done before, but it seemed to +the girl that she was trying to impress upon +her mind the location of some of the streets +particularly.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Madame after they had returned +to the villa and were partaking of +refreshments, “now you shall show me again +the lunch basket with its curious hiding-place. +How clever your father must be, +child! I long to know him.”</p> + +<p>“I wish we could go to him,” sighed +Jeanne as she obediently brought the basket +and showed once more the place where the +quinine had been concealed.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we may soon, who knows?” said +the lady gaily, examining the basket closely +notwithstanding her liveliness. “I would +tell you a secret–but no; not now.”</p> + +<p>“What, Cherie?” cried the girl with eagerness. +“Is it about my father?”</p> + +<p>“Now, now, curious one!” madame shook +her finger playfully at her. “Well then, I +will tell. I can refuse you nothing, petite. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +You wind yourself about my heart so. +Listen, and you shall hear the grand news. +Your uncle and I wonder too why your father +does not write. We know that you have +a great desire for your home, and so we are +going to take you there.”</p> + +<p>“Home! Oh, Cherie!” Jeanne sprang to +the lady and embraced her rapturously, +“Home! I am so glad! so glad!”</p> + +<p>“Is it not grand, little one? And we go +together to see your clever father and your +beautiful mother. But your uncle has much +to do first. I will tell you more. He has +deeded you all his property. His houses, his +carriages, his slaves, his horses, his money, in +fact everything which he possesses. Is he not +kind?”</p> + +<p>“To me?” and Jeanne looked at her in bewilderment. +“But why, Cherie?”</p> + +<p>“Because he thinks so much of you, and +then too you are for the Union, and the +‘Beast’ will not take them from you as he +would from us.”</p> + +<p>“But why should General Butler wish to +take your property from you?” asked the girl, +who knew nothing of the Confiscation Act. +In fact knowledge of any kind had been carefully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +kept from her except such as reflected +upon the North.</p> + +<p>“I do not know, child. Who does?” +shrugging her shoulders. “The vagaries of +the ‘Beast’ are not to be kept up with. But +it does not matter. You will have them and +we will be pleased. We have no children, you +know.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” said Jeanne kissing her. She +could not understand the matter. Her uncle +had never shown any particular fondness for +her, and in fact seemed to shun her. “You +are very kind to me, Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“So kind that you would do one little thing +for ‘Cherie’?” asked the lady, flashing a quick +glance at her.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, I would,” replied the girl unwarily.</p> + +<p>“Then listen, petite, and you shall hear +how you can do a great service for your uncle +and me. Draw closer, my pet. None must +hear what I would tell you.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne came close to her side and waited to +hear what her aunt had to say.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span><a id='link_14'></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>A VICTIM OF DECEIT</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>I do</span> not know,” began Madame in her +soft voice, “whether I have told you that I +have a brother. Have I?”</p> + +<p>“No, Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“I have, petite, in the Confederate Army. +He is very dear to me. A few days ago I +learned that he was wounded and ill. He is +not far from the city, and he lies in a rude +hospital tent without clothing or the necessary +food and medicine. Is it not hard, little +one, to think of being in the midst of plenty +while my only brother is destitute?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Jeanne with ready sympathy, +“it is.”</p> + +<p>“I thought that you would think so,” and +the lady smoothed her hair gently. “Suppose +that it were your own brother, Dick. I know +that you would do almost anything to help +him, and I feel the same about Auguste. I +tried vainly to get a pass to go to him to take +him some necessities, but ma foi! That beast +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +of a Yankee General will not give me one. I +am distressed. I suffer, but of what avail is +it? I come to you, my little one, for aid.”</p> + +<p>“To me?” Jeanne looked her surprise. +“What can I do, Cherie?”</p> + +<p>“You are so brave. You have so much +cleverness. Could I do it I would not ask it +of you. But what would you! I am a coward. +I faint at the least noise. I lose my +wits; and so, child, I want you to take some +medicine and food to my Auguste.”</p> + +<p>“I to take it? Why how could I do it?”</p> + +<p>“’Tis easy to one who has the courage, +petite. I would send Feliciane with you. +’Tis only to elude the sentinels some dark +night and once beyond them the rest is nothing. +Feliciane knows where a boat is hidden +on Lake Ponchartrain, and she would row you +to the other side where you would be met by +one of my brother’s comrades who would receive +the things. Then you step once more +into the boat, and Mais! there you are safe +and sound in the city again.”</p> + +<p>“Why could not Feliciane go alone?” questioned +Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“My child, she has not the intelligence. +One must demand nothing of these creatures +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +that calls for the exercise of reason. Will you +go, my pet?”</p> + +<p>“Would it be wrong, Cherie?”</p> + +<p>“Wrong to carry food to a wounded soldier? +Why should you think so, child?”</p> + +<p>“Then it is nothing against the government?”</p> + +<p>“No; I would not ask it of you if it were. +Will you please me, Jeanne? Your uncle +would like it too.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Cherie, I will,” said Jeanne after a +moment’s thought. “If it is only to take +some food to a poor soldier it cannot be wrong. +When do you wish me to go?”</p> + +<p>“Dearest, to-night. There is no moon and +it will be easier to elude the guards. I may +use your basket, may I not? It will not be +so heavy to carry.”</p> + +<p>“If you wish,” assented Jeanne. “But it +will not hold much.”</p> + +<p>“I only want to send a few, a very few +things. Just what he needs most to put heart +into him, poor fellow! And then when you +come back, we will plan our journey to your +home. Oh, we will have the grand time!”</p> + +<p>The day wore away. Madame Vance talked +volubly about the girl’s home and asked her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +so many questions concerning it that Jeanne +was wrought up to the highest pitch. At last +the darkness fell. With it came a drizzling +rain and to the tenderly nurtured girl it +seemed that this would put a stop to the enterprise; +but no.</p> + +<p>“Could anything be more fortunate,” cried +Madame who was in the highest spirits. +“Nothing could be better for our purpose. +Ah, petite, you will outwit the Yankee soldiers +yet.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked troubled. The matter had +not presented itself in that light before.</p> + +<p>“I am not doing wrong, am I, Cherie?” +she asked dubiously. “It is nothing against +the government, is it?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure not. How quaint you are to +ask that again! Would I have you to do +wrong?”</p> + +<p>The preparations were finally completed. +Robed in dark waterproof garments Jeanne +took the basket given her by her father and, +accompanied by Feliciane, a mulatto woman, +set forth, again upon a mission. But this +time the girl was downcast in spirit, and had +not the lofty exaltation of an approving conscience.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span>The two walked in silence through the dark +streets of the city. The woman glided swiftly +along as if accustomed to the journey, making +many devious windings and turnings. +Jeanne’s progress was slower and the mulatto +often had to pause to wait until she could +catch up with her.</p> + +<p>“Missy be keerful hyar,” whispered the +woman, when at length the outskirts of the +city were reached. “Keep close ter de trees.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne obeyed. The sentinel’s lonely figure +could scarcely be discerned in the darkness. +Unconscious of their proximity the man was +singing softly to himself as he patrolled his +post steadily. To the girl it seemed as though +her heart beats must betray their presence. +The black touched her hand gently and, as +the guard turned to retrace his steps, they +glided silently past him, and were lost in the +darkness. The skiff was found, and the +strong steady strokes of the woman soon +pulled them out upon the waters of Lake +Ponchartrain.</p> + +<p>“We got by all right, lill’ missy, didn’t +we?” chuckled she.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” assented Jeanne. “Is it far, Feliciane?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span>“A long way,” was the response. “We +won’t git back ’tel de mohnin’.”</p> + +<p>“Until morning?” echoed Jeanne in dismay. +“Will we have to be out in this rain +all that time?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, honey. It’s bes’ fer it ter rain. De +Yanks can’t see yer den. Missus she laikes +fer it ter rain when she go.”</p> + +<p>“Does she ever go?” asked Jeanne sitting +up very straight. “I thought that she was +afraid to go.”</p> + +<p>“De Madame ain’t ’fraid ob nuffin,” was +the emphatic reply. “She usen ter go often. +She done carried heaps ob things ter de rebs.”</p> + +<p>“But it has been because of her brother, +Feliciane,” said Jeanne, gently trying not to +condemn her aunt too severely.</p> + +<p>“Huh brudder? What brudder? She +ain’t got no brudder. What you talkin’ +’bout?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Feliciane, aren’t we carrying food and +medicine to her poor wounded brother, +Auguste?”</p> + +<p>“What makes you think dat, chile? Massa +Auguste killed long time ago when de wah +fust beginned. ’Couhse we ain’t takin’ things +ter huh brudder. We’s carryin’ news ter de +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +Massa Gin’ral dat de Yanks gwine ter ’tack +him.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Jeanne bitterly. “I have been +fooled. I will give no aid to the enemy. +Turn this boat back, Feliciane.”</p> + +<p>“Not ef I knows myself, honey. I done +want no whoppin’. Madame Vance sent me, +an’ I’se gwine ter do what she say. What’d +yer kum fer ef yer didn’t want ter holpe +dem?”</p> + +<p>“Because I did not know what I was +doing. Madame told me it was to take food +to her wounded brother.”</p> + +<p>“She’s a great one fer pullin’ de wool ober +de eyes,” chuckled the negress. “Missus +kum nigh gittin’ ketched de las’ time she +kummed, so den she sent you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Jeanne sat very still, her heart +heavy with what she had heard. Truthful +herself, the knowledge that her aunt could +stoop to such duplicity filled her with anguish. +Her eyes were fast opening to the +fact that the sweetness of the lady and her +honeyed words masked a cruel, treacherous +nature, and unaccustomed as she was to deceit +of any sort she was weighed down by the discovery.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span>“Feliciane,” she said coaxingly. “I will +give you more money than you ever had +in all your life before if you will turn this +boat back.”</p> + +<p>“No, missy. Yer can’t hiah me ter do +nuffin ob dat kine,” came the relentless tones +of the darky. “Feliciane knows what’s good +fer huh, an’ she’s gwine ter do it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, my basket shall not go at any rate,” +cried Jeanne and she caught it up to throw it +overboard. But the darky seized her arm in +a strong grip and took the basket from her.</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, missy,” she said, “er I’ll hab +ter settle yer. An’ missus won’t keer nuther. +She done laik yer nohow.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne could do nothing in the woman’s +powerful clasp, and was compelled to relinquish +her hold on the basket. Placing it +behind her the negress took the oars again +and resumed her rowing. Silence fell between +the two and steadily they drew nearer +to the farther shore. At last after what +seemed hours to Jeanne the keel of the boat +grated upon the sand and the woman sprang +out and drew the skiff upon the bank.</p> + +<p>“Come,” she said to Jeanne and the girl +mechanically followed her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span>“Halt! who goes there?” came the challenge.</p> + +<p>“A frien’,” responded Feliciane. “Done +yer know me, sah?”</p> + +<p>“Feliciane,” exclaimed a voice joyfully. +“You are a jewel. Have you anything for +us? Who is with you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sah; heah in dis basket missus sent. +It’s all erbout a ’tack what de Yanks is a-gwine +ter make on you folks. Missus kum +moughty nigh bein’ kotched de las’ time, an’ +so she sent de lill’ missy with me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, here are some letters. You won’t +be more than able to get back by daylight. +Are you too tired to make it to-night, Feliciane?”</p> + +<p>“No, sah. Missus ’spects me ter do it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, good-bye. Thank your mistress for +us, and tell her the boys in gray will soon +drive the Yankees out of the city, and +she won’t have this to do much longer.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell huh, sah.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne still silent went back to the boat. +Every hope that she had held that there was +really a wounded brother of Madame’s had +died during the interview, and the lady was +meeting with that fierce arraignment in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +mind of the girl that youth always gives +when for the first time the mask of hypocrisy +is torn from a loved face.</p> + +<p>The dawn was streaking the gray sky with +crimson when they reached the city again. +The rain had ceased and the stormy night +was to be succeeded by a fair day. Jeanne’s +face showed white and stern in the gray of +the morning as she walked slowly by the +black’s side. Her lips were compressed together +in a straight line for she had determined +that Madame Vance should render +an account of her duplicity to her.</p> + +<p>Presently Feliciane uttered an exclamation +of alarm, and thrust the package that the +rebel had given her into Jeanne’s hands.</p> + +<p>“Run, missy, run,” she cried. “De Yanks +am a-kumin’.”</p> + +<p>Involuntarily the girl quickened her steps, +but she had gone but a short distance when +she was caught by the shoulder, and brought +to a standstill.</p> + +<p>“You are under arrest,” said the gruff +voice of a soldier. “Give me that package +you have.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span><a id='link_15'></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><span class='h2fs'>BEFORE GENERAL BUTLER AGAIN</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Jeanne</span> handed the package to the soldier +without a word. The man took it and then +said in a harsh manner:</p> + +<p>“Follow me. It seems to me that you are +beginning mighty young.”</p> + +<p>Still silent the girl trudged wearily along +beside him. She was very tired and the way +to the Custom-House was long. But she +uttered no complaint. Far bitterer to bear +than fatigue was the thought that she, Jeanne +Vance, had carried information to the enemies +of her country.</p> + +<p>The Custom-House where General Butler +had established his permanent official headquarters +was finally reached, and she was +conducted through the court-room where Major +Bell was dispensing justice to a smaller +room adjoining the office of the Commander. +A number of persons were in the apartment +awaiting the coming of the General.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span>“Has the General come in yet?” asked her +captor of an Orderly.</p> + +<p>“No; but we expect him every moment. +Is it anything of importance?”</p> + +<p>“I think so. I captured a young girl +who has been beyond the lines, and has +returned with a package of letters from +the Johnnies. The other boys gave chase +to the negro woman who was with her, +but this is the main one, I guess. I think +the General ought to see the letters immediately.”</p> + +<p>“By all means. I will tell him as soon as +he comes, so that he will attend to you at +once. There are a number waiting this +morning.”</p> + +<p>Faint and weary Jeanne sank into the seat +assigned her, and waited apathetically the +summons which were to lead her to the General’s +presence. It came soon and she was led +into the office where the General sat behind a +long table on which lay a pistol.</p> + +<p>This was the man’s sole precaution against +assassination, and was used only after the discovery +of one or two plots to kill him. +There were several of his staff with him in +the room, but the girl saw only the stern face +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +of the Commander. He gave a start of surprise +as his eyes fell upon her.</p> + +<p>“You?” he exclaimed. “Are you the girl +who has been caught bringing contraband +letters into the city? Child, child, I am surprised.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne’s lips quivered and she turned very +pale, but she only said:</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I did it.”</p> + +<p>“And you are the girl who professed such +devotion to the cause of your country? You, +who carried the flag upon your person, and +kissed it to show your patriotism? I am more +than surprised! I am grieved!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” exclaimed Jeanne, her utterance +choked with sobs. “Oh, sir, I do love my +country, but I am not worthy to carry its flag +any longer. Take it.” She drew the flag +from her dress and laid it before him.</p> + +<p>Her distress was so evident, so real that +General Butler’s glance softened.</p> + +<p>“If you feel like that,” he said not unkindly, +“perhaps you will tell me the truth +about the matter.”</p> + +<p>“Gladly,” cried Jeanne eagerly. “I will +tell you anything that you ask.”</p> + +<p>“These letters prove that there has been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +communication exchanged before. Have you +ever been on a like expedition?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I do not know that you will believe +me when I say that I did not know what +I was doing when I went on this errand. But +I did not. I would rather have died than to +have given aid to the enemies of the Union; +and yet I did it.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you tell me just how it happened,” +suggested the General. “I will gladly +hear any extenuating circumstances that you +may give, for I am loth to believe that you are +guilty of treachery.”</p> + +<p>With many tears Jeanne related her story. +“I can never forgive myself,” she concluded +mournfully. “I deserve to be punished.”</p> + +<p>“What was in the basket that you carried +over?”</p> + +<p>“There was some medicine, quinine, I +think, jellies, and other delicacies.”</p> + +<p>“There were no documents of any kind? +Think well, child.”</p> + +<p>“I did not see any, but Feliciane told me, +and the rebel soldier also, that there was news +of an attack to be made upon General Thompson. +I am convinced that the intelligence +was concealed in the false bottom of my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +basket. You remember where I carried the +quinine, sir?” Then she told how her aunt +had examined the basket and suggested its +use.</p> + +<p>“Beyond doubt it carried the information,” +remarked Butler. “General Thompson with +his men is just beyond our lines. I have +known for some time that communication had +been going on between the citizens and the +soldiers, and have been keeping a sharp lookout. +Still they managed to elude my vigilance +some way. The Vances are among the +ring leaders. Why have you remained here +so long?” he asked, suddenly. “Why have +you not returned to your father?”</p> + +<p>“I have not heard from him,” said Jeanne, +her tears flowing afresh. “In all this long +time I have not heard one word.”</p> + +<p>“That is very strange!” The General +looked thoughtful. “Of course in the vicinity +surrounding us, and in all the country between +here and Richmond the telegraphs and +mails are in the hands of the Confederates. +But a letter could come safely by the sea +route. I am in communication with Washington +continually. There must be something +wrong. Have you written to him?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span>“Often and often. Uncle Ben mailed the +letters for me. My aunt told me yesterday +that they were going to take me home soon.”</p> + +<p>“After hoodwinking you the way she has, +do you believe it? There is something here +that I do not understand. I believe that you +are truthful, child, and have been victimized +for some purpose. I will have to watch those +people more closely.”</p> + +<p>“But how could I consent to do what I +have?” cried Jeanne. “Oh, I will never forgive +myself.”</p> + +<p>“Older ones than you might have been deceived,” +comforted the General. “I have +read that ‘under every flower there lurks a +serpent’; and where there is so much sweetness +and amiability there is ground for the +suspicion that the reptile will sooner or later +make his appearance. You must guard +against such seductive measures, my child. +They are more to be feared than the most violent +opposition. Your uncle has a great deal +of property, has he not?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes,” said Jeanne. “But do you +know, General, that the queer part of it is +that he has given it all to me?”</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha!” roared the General. “Another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +attempt to evade the Confiscation Act, eh? +And you did not know the reason?”</p> + +<p>“My aunt said that you would take it from +them because they were rebels, and that as I +was a Unionist you would not touch it if it +were mine.”</p> + +<p>“I think that I’ll make that a boomerang +that shall rebound on their own heads,” remarked +the General with a twinkle in his eye. +“Now, child, what are you going to do?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know, sir. I wish I could go +home.”</p> + +<p>“Would you feel very badly if I sent you +back to your uncle’s?”</p> + +<p>“Must I go there?” Jeanne uttered a cry +of dismay. “I don’t believe that I can, General +Butler. I don’t feel as if I ever wanted +to see either of them again.”</p> + +<p>“But if you could help me?” suggested +the General. “You might, Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>“If I could be of any service,” said Jeanne +bravely though every feature showed her dislike +to the suggestion. “I will go.”</p> + +<p>“You are a brave little girl,” said the Commander +with appreciation. “I believe in you +thoroughly, child, else I would not ask this +of you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span>“I am glad that you trust me,” said Jeanne +gratefully, her last fear of him vanishing. +“I had begun to believe that I could never +trust myself again.”</p> + +<p>“Our truest strength lies in knowing our +weaknesses,” said the General sententiously. +“Truth is written on your face, and you are +earnest and thoughtful beyond your years. +The thing I wish you to do is this: go back +to your uncle’s and conduct yourself as far as +possible as you have done. I am convinced +that another attempt will soon be made to +carry information to Thompson. I want you +to let me know when the time will be. You +can find out by keeping your eyes and ears +open. Show that you are indignant at the +part you have been made to play for that will +be expected. Send me word the moment you +suspect that the attempt will be made. Can +you do this?”</p> + +<p>“I will try, General. I will do it if only +to redeem myself in your eyes. If I can find +out the time I will.”</p> + +<p>“Then you may go now. I think you can +understand why it is that I am so suspicious +of every one, do you not, child? By the +way, I found that everything was just as you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +said it was when you were here before. That +has made it easy for you this time. Am I +forgiven for the way I treated you then?”</p> + +<p>“I forgave you long ago,” said the girl +sweetly. “I had been here but a short +time when I realized that you must have +hard work to hold these people down. And +you have been good to believe me, General +Butler. You are not nearly so bad as people +think you are. They don’t know how kind +you are.”</p> + +<p>The General laughed and then sighed.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that there are not many who +will agree with you,” he said. “But there, +child! I must attend to business. I will +write to your father myself and just as soon +as I hear from him you shall know it.”</p> + +<p>“Will you?” cried Jeanne. “And oh, do +tell him to send for me soon.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you poor child! Or if I see an opportunity +to send you safely home you shall +go. I think that I can send you by one of +the steamers. If I had known of this you +should have returned with Mrs. Butler.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could have done so,” said the girl +wistfully.</p> + +<p>“Well, you shall go soon, I promise you. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +Keep a brave heart, and remember that it will +not be long before you shall go. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>He shook hands with her warmly, and then +stopped her as she was leaving the room.</p> + +<p>“Your flag, my little girl. We had forgotten +your flag.”</p> + +<p>“I am not worthy,” whispered the girl +looking longingly at it.</p> + +<p>“My dear, so long as your heart is as loyal +as it is there is no one more worthy. Take it +and keep it unsullied as you have done.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne took it joyfully and then departed. +Full of misgiving she reluctantly wended her +way toward her uncle’s house.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span><a id='link_16'></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE VELVET GLOVE CONCEALS THE IRON HAND</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>There</span> was an unusual stir in the villa +when Jeanne arrived. Madame Vance greeted +her with some eagerness.</p> + +<p>“What has become of the letters?” she +cried. “Surely you did not permit the +Yankees to take them?”</p> + +<p>“I could not help it, Cherie,” answered +Jeanne noting with her newly acquired insight +into the lady’s character that her own +well-being was of no importance. “I did not +know that the soldiers were near until Feliciane +gave the alarm and thrust the papers +into my hand. She should have kept them. +Did she escape?”</p> + +<p>“She did. Of course she thought that you +would make an effort to do the same. What +did the ‘Beast’ say when he found that a +Yankee girl was working against him? It is +very droll.” And she laughed maliciously. +“I am surprised that you got away from him +at all.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span>“I would not have done so had he not believed +that I was but a tool in your hands,” +answered the girl bluntly. “I will never forgive +you, Cherie, for the way you deceived +me. You told me that your brother was +wounded, and that it was only to take him +some medicine and food, and you have no +brother at all. Was the information that you +sent concealed in my basket?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly it was,” returned Madame +lightly. “Was it not for that purpose that +you showed me the hiding-place yesterday? +Thanks to your cleverness General Thompson +is aware of an attack by which Butler +meant to surprise him. That basket of yours +is a jewel for hiding contraband articles. It +will be used again.”</p> + +<p>“It shall never again be so used if I can +help it,” cried Jeanne goaded beyond endurance +by the knowledge of how she had been +tricked. “I would not have believed that +you would have been guilty of telling an untruth. +You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Everything is fair in love and war,” said +the other mockingly. “It is not wrong to +falsify to Yankees.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span>“I will never forgive you. Never!” cried +the girl passionately. “I told General Butler +just how you deceived me, and I never can +trust you again. To think that such a woman +is the wife of my uncle!”</p> + +<p>“Be careful of your words, my little +Yankee,” and the black eyes of the lady glittered +balefully. “I have treated you well +heretofore, but I may repent of my soft usage. +If gentle means will not convince you of the +error of your ways we will try other means.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean? You dare not use +me otherwise than well. I would not submit +to anything else, and Uncle Ben would not +allow you to ill treat me.”</p> + +<p>“Your uncle will permit anything that I +choose to do,” retorted Madame angrily, and +the girl knew that she spoke truly. Mr. +Vance yielded to his wife in everything. +“And listen, girl! I dare anything that I +choose to do. I am sick of your puritanical +ways, and I have resolved to change them. +Why did you return if you were not of our +way of thinking? Why did you not stay +with ‘Beast’ Butler since you agree so well? +Speak, girl! why did you come back?”</p> + +<p>“I–I–because<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” Jeanne was unable +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +to proceed. The question was so unexpected +that she was not prepared to answer it.</p> + +<p>“Aha!” and Madame regarded her keenly. +“I see. You came back to spy upon us. +Deny it if you can.”</p> + +<p>Then as the girl made no reply she called:</p> + +<p>“Feliciane, Feliciane!” The woman entered +the room. “Take this girl to the strong +room,” she commanded.</p> + +<p>“Don’t dare to touch me,” cried Jeanne +springing away from the woman. “I will tell +General Butler of this.”</p> + +<p>“So?” and Madame’s face became purple +with rage. “You admit it. I thought as +much. You have returned as a spy. Oh, he +boasts of having his creatures in every household, +but he has a de la Chaise to deal with +in me. Away with her, Feliciane!”</p> + +<p>In vain Jeanne struggled and cried out +against the indignity. She was helpless in +the hands of the muscular negress, and was +soon carried struggling and screaming to the +top floor of the house, and pushed unceremoniously +into a room, the door closed and +locked upon her.</p> + +<p>“Foh de land sake, lill’ missy, what you +doin’ heah?” came in a hoarse whisper and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +Jeanne turned to see the face of Snowball +peering at her.</p> + +<p>“Snowball, are you here?” she cried stifling +her sobs and trying to penetrate the +gloom of the darkened chamber.</p> + +<p>“Yes, missy, I is. Dey allers puts us in +heah aftah we’s whipped. But how kum you +heah? You wuzn’t whipped, wuz yer?”</p> + +<p>“No;” and Jeanne seated herself by the +prostrate form of the girl and took her hand. +“I would rather have been than to do what I +did yesterday.” She told the darky how Madame +had beguiled her into taking the trip to +the Confederates, and of her subsequent arrest +and discharge.</p> + +<p>“I hopes dis Butler will help yer ef de +missus got a grudge agin yer,” muttered +Snowball. “An’ she sut’n’ly hab got one +elsen she wouldn’t put yer in dis place whar +we niggas is put. Why, missy, dis ain’t no +place foh yer.”</p> + +<p>“But you have to stay here, Snowball. I +ought to stand it if you do. I wish there was +some way to get word to General Butler. He +would take me from here I know.”</p> + +<p>“Dere won’t be no way, missy,” said Snowball +with melancholy conviction as Jeanne +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +sprang to her feet and began a hurried inspection +of the room. “Missus wouldn’t leab a +mouse hole ef she thought it could be used.”</p> + +<p>And Jeanne found her words true. It was +a small low room without furniture of any +kind. A pile of straw upon which the darky +lay was the only thing in it. There were iron +shutters at the windows so strong that it +would require the strength of a man to open +them. The door was bolted and Jeanne resumed +her seat by the girl in a hopeless +manner.</p> + +<p>“What can we do, Snowball?”</p> + +<p>“Nuffin. Can’t do a bressed thing tell de +missus ready ter let us out. ’Tain’t so bad +when yer gits usen ter de dahk.”</p> + +<p>“Does your back hurt much?”</p> + +<p>“Not now, honey. It did huht awful when +dey pouhed de brine on tho’.”</p> + +<p>“The brine! Not salt water, Snowball?”</p> + +<p>“Yes’m. It did huht shore nuff when dey +pouhed dat on. Dey does it kase dey think +de whip won’t make no scahs when dey heal. +But it do huht awful.”</p> + +<p>This new horror held Jeanne silent, and +her tears fell fast. A fierce indignation foreign +to her usually gentle nature shook her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +from head to foot. “And father used to +say that abolitionists were extremists,” she +thought. “Oh, if ever I get home again I’ll +cry out on the streets against slavery.”</p> + +<p>“Is yer cryin’, lill’ missy?” exclaimed +Snowball, as the warm drops fell upon her +hands. “Done yer do it. It done mattah +’bout a pore nigga laik me. Heah you is +tiahed mos’ ter def, I reckon. Can’t yer +sleep?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try, Snowball,” and Jeanne crept beside +the girl on her straw. “I am tired. I +almost wish I could die.”</p> + +<p>“Done yer be downhahted, missy. Dey’ll +take me outen heah soon. Jes’ as soon as ma +back gits well, kase dey can’t ’ford ter lose a +val’able nigga laik me, and ef dey doesn’t +take you outen dis ’fore den I’ll run away ter +de Gin’ral. Heaps of de cullah folks go ter +him.”</p> + +<p>“Will you, Snowball?” A gleam of hope +stole into Jeanne’s heart. She snuggled down +into the straw and soon fell into a deep sleep.</p> + +<p>When she awakened she was alone in the +room. During her slumber Snowball had +been taken away, and Jeanne missed her +companionship sorely. A pitcher of water +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +and some bread had been placed by her side, +and the girl ate ravenously for she had taken +no food since the day before. Then once +more she wandered about the room trying to +find some means of escape. Realizing that +her efforts were useless she sank back on the +straw and gave herself up to thoughts of +home and her dear parents.</p> + +<p>How little any of them thought that her +journey would turn out as it had. She pictured +her father’s indignation when she +should tell him of the treatment she had received +and her mother’s anxiety concerning +her. Well, even if Snowball did not get to +see General Butler he would seek her just as +soon as he heard from her father. Perhaps +when he found that he did not hear from her +he would come to see what the matter was. +And so the hours passed drearily by.</p> + +<p>No one came to the room and no sound +reached her from below. By the deepening +of the gloom she knew that it was drawing +near night, and she looked forward with some +dread to spending the long hours of darkness +in that cheerless place. But summoning all +her fortitude she composed herself for slumber.</p> + +<p>“I have the flag,” she said to herself and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +took it from her bosom. “I am so glad that +the General gave it back to me. How is our +side doing, I wonder? Why didn’t I think +to ask him? It has been so long since I +heard. So long!”</p> + +<p>With the flag clasped to her breast she fell +asleep once more. As before, while she slept +food and drink were placed beside her, and it +began to look as if she was to be condemned +to solitude. In this manner two days passed. +On the morning of the third day she was +rudely awakened by some one shaking +her.</p> + +<p>“Get up,” cried Madame, who stood by her +side. “Get up! We are going.”</p> + +<p>“Going? Going where?” cried Jeanne, +dazedly.</p> + +<p>“We are going to your home,” answered +Madame Vance. “Get up and come with me +if you care to go too.”</p> + +<p>“Home!” repeated Jeanne thinking that +she still slept. “Home!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; don’t sit there like a silly, but come +at once. That Yankee beast has ordered that +all of the registered enemies of the United +States shall leave the city. And we must +go.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span>“Are you really going to take me home?” +asked the girl now thoroughly awake. “Oh, +if you will, I will forgive everything!”</p> + +<p>“Then get ready quickly,” said Madame, a +cruel light in her eyes which the girl unfortunately +did not see. “We must go at once. +The ‘Beast’ will only permit us to take what +we can carry with us. The rest of the property +must go to enrich him and his brother. +Oh, they are a nice pair, but ma foi! what +can one expect of Yankees?”</p> + +<p>Jeanne made no reply, but followed her to +her own room where Snowball was waiting to +dress her.</p> + +<p>“Mus’ you go, lill’ missy?” whispered the +girl as Madame left them for the moment +alone. “I’se ’feerd foh yer ter go.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going too, Snowball?”</p> + +<p>“Missus say I is, an’, ob couhse, I long ter +huh I’se got ter ef she say so. But I done +want ter.”</p> + +<p>An hour later Mr. and Madame Vance, +Jeanne, Feliciane, Snowball and Jeff left the +city in company with a number of others. +General Butler, wearied with the intrigues of +these avowed enemies of the government, had +ordered that they should leave his lines for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +the Confederacy, and imposed the condition +that they should not return.</p> + +<p>In all the throng that waited to see the +Confederates depart Jeanne saw no sign of the +General. There were plenty of aids and +members of his staff who looked closely after +the articles carried away by the departing +people, but of the General himself she saw +nothing. And so the girl was allowed to depart +with the refugees without a word from +the Unionists. Blinded by her desire to get +home, she left freedom and the protection of +the flag and went without question into the +heart of Secessia.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span><a id='link_17'></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>AGAIN DECEIVED</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> party of Secessionists of which Mr. +and Madame Vance were members embarked +on board the boat, Ceres, which steamed up +the narrow winding river, Tangipaho, to +Manchac bridge, the terminus of a railroad +that led to Ponchatoula ten miles distant +from which was the headquarters of General +Thompson; the main body of Confederates +being nine miles further on.</p> + +<p>The shores of the river presented to view +nothing but desolation. Many of the houses +were deserted and every garden and field lay +waste. Gaunt, yellow, silent figures stood +looking at the disembarking refugees, images +of despair. The people there had been small +farmers, market gardeners, fishermen and +shell diggers; all of them absolutely dependent +upon the market of New Orleans +from which they had been cut off for more +than five months. Roving bands of Guerillas +and the march of the regiments had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +robbed them of the last pig, the last chicken, +the last egg and even of their half grown +vegetables. In all that region there was +nothing to eat but corn on the cob, and of +that only a few pecks in each house.</p> + +<p>A locomotive with a train of platform cars +stood on the track and the party soon were +gliding swiftly to the village.</p> + +<p>Jeanne’s eyes brightened when she saw that +the place contained a post and telegraph +office.</p> + +<p>“Uncle Ben,” she said timidly for none of +the party were in good spirits. The men were +sullen and the women bewailing their fate at +being obliged to leave their belongings behind +them.</p> + +<p>“Uncle Ben,” said Jeanne again as her +uncle did not answer her.</p> + +<p>“Well, what is it?” he asked ungraciously.</p> + +<p>“Could I not telegraph to my father that +we are coming? There is a telegraph office +here.”</p> + +<p>“What made you think that we were going +to Dick’s?” he asked after a broad stare of +amazement.</p> + +<p>“Cherie told me,” answered Jeanne her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +heart sinking at his expression. “Aren’t we +going, dear uncle?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I rather guess not,” said Mr. Vance +emphatically. “I think we’ve had enough +of the Yankees without going where they are. +Enough to last us a lifetime.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you tell me such a thing?” +burst from Jeanne turning upon her aunt +with indignation.</p> + +<p>“Because, my dear little Yankee, I wanted +the pleasure of your company, of course,” replied +Madame mockingly.</p> + +<p>“That is not true,” said Jeanne boldly. +“You do not like me, Aunt Clarisse,” dropping +the Cherie which she seldom afterward +used.</p> + +<p>“No? you want the truth then?” said the +woman suddenly. “Because I hate you for +being a Yankee.”</p> + +<p>“But you did like me at first and I was a +Yankee then,” and the girl shrank from the +light in the other’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Yes; for a time, but I soon tired of you. +You were too independent, and had views that +were tiresome to me. I might have loved you +had you yielded your will to mine. But you +would not. You, a mere girl, set your judgment +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +up against mine, although I granted +your lightest wish. Then you told that +Yankee General that your uncle had given +you all the property and he seized it in your +name. Think you that I would let you stay +to enjoy our property when we were driven +from the city? Oh, I saw through your artfulness! +But you shall not have the property +if that Beast does!”</p> + +<p>“I did not want your property,” replied +Jeanne, her face becoming very pale as she +heard her aunt’s words. “Why should I care +for it? I want only to go to my home. +Please let me go back, Aunt Clarisse. I will +beg General Butler to let you have your property +again and to send me home. Truly, I do +not want anything of yours. Let me go +back.”</p> + +<p>“Never,” cried the other angrily. “Who +would think that a puny faced thing like you +could be so sly!”</p> + +<p>Jeanne made no reply but sank into bitter +thought. The rebel general, Jefferson Thompson, +received the refugees courteously and +promised to help them to reach friends and +relatives in other parts of the South. Meantime +he gave them such refreshment as was at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +his disposal, resigning to the Vances his own +headquarters. For a few days they stayed +here, being joined by others from the city. +Then they broke up into small parties and +scattered, each bent upon reaching his own +objective point.</p> + +<p>To her consternation Jeanne was told that +her uncle and aunt were bound for Alabama, +the very midst of Secession. The girl’s heart +died within her when she found that this was +their destination. With no friends near how +could she, a mere girl, hope to reach her own +people surrounded as she would be on all +sides by rebels? She was almost in despair.</p> + +<p>At Waynesboro, they left the train and Mr. +Vance, securing a carriage with two good +horses, announced his intention of driving +through the rest of the way. Madame Vance +received the intelligence with demonstrations +of joy but Jeanne said nothing. In spite of +her depression, however, she could not but +feel a sense of pleasure as they bowled along +over the public road.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasing ride, ennobling to the soul +as a series of beautiful scenes were unrolled to +the view. Far in the azure blue the great +banks of white clouds seemed to lie at anchor, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +so slow of sail were they. The gloom of the +dense forest gently waving its boughs to the +breeze greeted the eye. Ever and anon the +dulcet murmur of gurgling streams broke +gently on the ear. Quiet cottages surrounded +by flowers and fruits, the abodes of peace and +content, were passed; grass green marshes +with here and there a tall pine or sombre +cypress standing as sentinels of the rich mead; +song birds caroling their sweet lays as they +flitted from bough to bough, or lightly soared +in space; fields of deadened trees, all draped +with the long gray Spanish moss, were silhouetted +against the sky; groups of great +oaks, with clusters of the mistletoe pendent. +On past plantations, busy with slaves whose +merry songs floated far on the gentle zephyrs.</p> + +<p>But as the day wore away proofs that grim-visaged +war was raging in the land came more +and more into evidence.</p> + +<p>Want and desolation mark the track of soldiers. +Armies must be fed and hungry men +respect neither friend nor foe when it comes to +satisfying their wants, and ravaged plantations +and desolated homes marred the beauty +of the peaceful landscape.</p> + +<p>It was a long hard day’s ride and Jeanne +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +was glad when at last just as the brief twilight +was deepening, Mr. Vance descried a large +house in the distance and directed Jeff to drive +them there so that they might have shelter for +the night.</p> + +<p>“Dar’s nobody ter hum,” was Jeff’s announcement +after knocking at all the doors.</p> + +<p>“Go to the quarters and find out where the +people are,” commanded his master, but the +darky soon returned with the information +that the cabins were empty also.</p> + +<p>“Strange,” said the gentleman. “What do +you think we would better do, Clarisse?”</p> + +<p>“Can you not open the doors in some +way?” asked the lady pettishly. “I am +tired, mon ami, and if no one is there we +might just as well take possession. Private +property doesn’t seem to be respected these +times.”</p> + +<p>Without another word Mr. Vance gave the +order, and the two men soon succeeded in +forcing an entrance. The fast falling darkness +gave weird glimpses of the interior of the +residence.</p> + +<p>“Remain without,” said her husband hastily, +“until I get a light.”</p> + +<p>Presently the cheering flash of a fire dispelled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +the gloom of the dwelling and after being +assured that everything was all right +within, the lady entered followed by Jeanne +and the blacks. The October air was chilly +and the warmth of the pine knots was very +acceptable.</p> + +<p>Jeanne crept into a corner where she could +enjoy the blaze and fell into a reverie. The +poor child was very miserable. Her aunt and +uncle scarcely noticed her or when they did +speak to her it was in such great contrast to +their former affectionate address that her +heart was heavy indeed.</p> + +<p>The brightness of the pine knots in the vast +fireplace lighted up the room vividly. The +apartment seemed to have been the living-room +of the family, and its disarrangement +showed that the inmates had left its sheltering +walls hurriedly. At one end of the room +were great spinning wheels with the thread +still hanging.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vance had drawn up an easy chair to +one side of the odorous fire and leaned silently +back in its depths apparently lost in thought. +His wife was seated near him, the firelight +glancing almost caressing on the rich sheen of +her hair and the vivid crimson of her cheek +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +and lip. Snowball’s dusky figure flitted back +and forth supplying the fire with the rich +pine knots as they were required while Jeff +and Feliciane were busied in the kitchen trying +to get up something for a meal.</p> + +<p>Jeanne fell to studying the fair face of the +woman before her wondering over and over +how one so beautiful could be so cruel.</p> + +<p>“Well! Have you finished staring at +me?” demanded Madame suddenly. “Have +done with your impudence, girl. You make +me nervous.”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” murmured Jeanne +shrinking from the light in her aunt’s eyes. +“I do not wish to make you nervous. I was +just thinking<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care what you are doing,” said the +other sharply. “I do not wish to be stared +at.” She sat back in her chair, and relapsed +into silence. Jeanne withdrew her gaze, but +it wandered unconsciously to her uncle’s face. +He moved uneasily, but made no comment.</p> + +<p>Presently Madame gave utterance to a harsh +laugh, and looked at the girl strangely.</p> + +<p>“How would you like this for a home?” +she asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” cried Jeanne.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span>“Just what I say. How would you like to +live here?”</p> + +<p>“I would not like it,” replied the girl decidedly. +“I like my own home best. There +is no place like New York.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you may change your mind,” and +Madame gave vent to a peal of unpleasant +laughter. “I believe that you will have the +opportunity.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” asked Jeanne again, +but the lady’s only answer was a shrug of her +shoulders.</p> + +<p>A vague uneasiness filled Jeanne’s mind at +her strange demeanor. She kept looking at +the girl with a curious, half triumphant expression, +while ever and anon she laughed in +that strange way that made the girl’s blood +chill with apprehension. She was glad when +at last Mr. Vance ordered them all to retire.</p> + +<p>“There are plenty of rooms and good beds,” +he said. “Very likely the people left hurriedly +else they would have taken them with +them, or perhaps they left them because they +will soon return. However it may be, we +must get a good night’s rest for to-morrow we +have a long day’s ride before us.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne chose a room at the end of the upstairs +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +hall and entering it closed the door +securely. Tired as she was from her long +ride she could not sleep but lay thinking +deeply about her aunt’s strange behavior. +She had become so accustomed to the lady’s +vagaries that she knew that some new idea +had suggested itself to her and she felt that it +related to herself.</p> + +<p>At last her eyes grew heavy, and soon she +fell into the deep untroubled sleep of youth.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span><a id='link_18'></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>It</span> was late when Jeanne awoke, and springing +up she dressed hastily and went downstairs. +There was no one in the living-room. +The fire had died down and a few glowing +coals gleamed red in the ashes. Full of a +vague alarm and fearing she knew not what, +Jeanne ran into the kitchen but there was no +one there. Quickly she ran from one room +to another but all were empty. The apartments +appeared larger and more desolate than +ever in their emptiness. Again and again +the now frightened girl ran through the +rooms and out upon the galleries, but the +echo of her own voice was all the answer +that came to her cries. At last the truth +dawned upon her. She had been abandoned +by her uncle and aunt.</p> + +<p>This then was the meaning of Madame’s +laughter. She, Jeanne, a Union girl, had +been left to get along as best she could on a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +lonely, deserted plantation in the very midst +of rebeldom; to live or die as the case might +be.</p> + +<p>With a cry the girl flung herself upon the +floor and let the flood of her anguish sweep +over her. A great fear was upon her. The +fear of the unknown. Never before had she +been so utterly, so entirely alone. It was +long before she could control herself, and +when at last she sat up, and tried to think +calmly, she seemed to have grown older.</p> + +<p>“I must be brave,” she thought. “Perhaps +it is better so after all. I am no worse off +than I was with them. May be I can make +my way back to New Orleans and General +Butler will send me home. But where am I? +I don’t know whether it is Alabama or Mississippi, +but whichever it is, I must try to get +back to Louisiana. Oh, my money!”</p> + +<p>Hastily she searched for it and, to her great +joy, found the bills safely hidden in the lining +of her dress. Long ago her aunt had +complained of the thieving of the blacks, and +cautioned Jeanne to hide securely whatever +she had of value.</p> + +<p>“Aunt Clarisse must have forgotten it,” she +exulted, “or she would have taken it from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +me. ‘One can always get along if one has +money,’ father said. This will help me to get +home. I wonder if my flag is safe!”</p> + +<p>Full of anxiety lest the beloved emblem +might have been taken she thrust her hand +into the folds of her dress, and to her great +delight, found it still there. Drawing it forth +she gazed at it lovingly, and then shook it +out straight. As she did so her eye was +caught by a piece of paper pinned to one +corner of it. With an exclamation Jeanne +caught at it eagerly.</p> + +<p>“My dear little Yankee,” it ran. “We +leave you in possession. There is not much +to eat in the house, but ma foi! what care +you? Have you not your flag? Knowing +your penchant for appropriating other people’s +property we have given you an opportunity +to acquire more belongings. Are we +not kind?</p> + +<p>“Should you see your honored parents +again (which I very much doubt) present my +truest affection to them. Hoping that your +solitude will give you time to repent of your +past misdeeds, believe me,</p> + +<p style='text-align:right; margin-right:20px; margin-bottom:0'>”As ever,</p> +<p style='text-align:right; font-variant:small-caps; margin-top:0'>“Cherie.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span>Jeanne’s eyes blazed in sudden anger, and +she clenched her hands determinedly.</p> + +<p>“I will see my parents again,” she cried, +passionately. “I will, I will! All the rebels +in the world shall not keep me from it! I’ll +start right back for New Orleans.”</p> + +<p>Full of this resolution she arose and went +into the house in search of something to eat! +As Madame Vance had written there was +very little food in the dwelling. A thin slice +of bacon and a small hoe cake was all that +Jeanne could find, but she ate them, then +started forth on her journey back to New +Orleans.</p> + +<p>Taking what she believed was the road +over which they had come the girl trudged +bravely along although it wound through a +deep forest. On and on through the dark +green gloom of the woodland she walked, knowing +nothing of the vegetation of the South, +and afraid to touch herbs or the wild fruit.</p> + +<p>“I did not think the forest went so far,” +she murmured, as the day wore away and the +shadowy vista of woods still opened before +her. “And there was a house just beyond +the trees. I ought to get to it soon. Then I +will ask to stay for the night.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span>But the woods grew denser, and the road +became but a narrow bridle path. The afternoon +drew to a close, and the brief twilight +came suddenly upon her in the depths of the +forest.</p> + +<p>Jeanne stopped dismayed, and then sank +down at the foot of a tall pine. A feeling of +homesick desolation crept over her, filling her +with vague, undefined forebodings. The tall +long-leaved pines and funereal cypress trees +rose on either side. The twilight deepened +into night and the hum of Nature’s wildwood +insects came to her ear. From the deeper forest +came the plaintive cry of the whippoorwill. +As the darkness deepened the hooting of the +owls could be heard and the croaking of some +frogs from a near-by swamp.</p> + +<p>Jeanne felt cold chills creep up and down +her back as the tall trees festooned with gray +moss, almost reaching to the ground, swayed +to and fro as a shiver of moaning wind stirred +the air.</p> + +<p>“I cannot stay here,” she exclaimed springing +to her feet. “It is better to keep on walking. +Surely there must be a house somewhere +near!”</p> + +<p>And so, though she was faint from hunger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +and weary from walking, she trudged on. +Presently the moon came up and deluged the +forest with a shining flood of light. The dark +pines, half in shadow, half in sheen, loomed +vast and giant-like on either side of the +gleaming path beneath.</p> + +<p>Afraid to stop and rest, Jeanne walked on +and on. All at once she heard singing. The +sound filled her with new life and she hastened +eagerly in its direction. Louder and +louder came the melody to her ears until presently +she was able to distinguish the words:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘Do they miss me at home,</p> +<p>Do they miss me?</p> +<p>’Twould be an assurance most dear,</p> +<p>To know at this moment some lov’d one</p> +<p>Were saying, “I wish he were here”;</p> +<p>To feel that the group at the fireside</p> +<p>Were thinking of me as I roam;</p> +<p>Oh, yes, ’twould be joy beyond measure</p> +<p>To know that they miss me at home,</p> +<p>To know that they miss me at home.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>Tears rushed into the girl’s eyes and a sob +broke from her lips. “Do they miss me, I +wonder?” she said brokenly. “Oh, mother, +mother! How little do you think that I am +wandering about in the woods without a place +to lay my head. Mother, mother!”</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span>“‘Do they set me a chair near the table,</p> +<p>When evening’s home pleasures are nigh,</p> +<p>When the candles are lit in the parlor,</p> +<p>And the stars in the calm, azure sky?</p> +<p>And when the good-nights are repeated,</p> +<p>And all lay them down to their sleep,</p> +<p>Do they think of the absent and waft me</p> +<p>A whisper’d “good-night” while they weep?</p> +<p>A whisper’d “good-night” while they weep?’”</p> +</div> + +<p>Jeanne looked up as the singer came toward +her. The bright moonlight fell full upon him +as he paused for a moment to examine the +lock of his gun, and she saw that he was a +Confederate soldier on picket duty. He resumed +the song as he swung the gun back to +his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“He is like Dick,” thought the lonely girl. +“I am sure that he has a kind heart, or he +would not sing that song. Maybe he has a +sister too.”</p> + +<p>Summoning all her courage she spoke timidly. +“Sir,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?” cried the startled +picket with an ominous click of his weapon.</p> + +<p>“Just a little girl,” answered Jeanne, coming +forward into the moonlight. “I’m lost, +and I don’t know where to go.”</p> + +<p>“A girl! It’s true I do declare!” burst +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +from the sentinel’s lips as he lowered his +gun. “How do you come to be here in the +woods at this time of night?”</p> + +<p>“I am trying to get back to New Orleans, +and I must have taken the wrong road.” +Jeanne was trembling but she tried to control +herself. “Oh, could you tell me where I +could get something to eat and a place to +sleep? I–I am afraid.”</p> + +<p>Her voice broke and despite her efforts at +self-command she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>“There! Never mind! I’ll take you to +Miss Bob,” said the soldier with rough kindness. +“The woods ain’t no place fur a girl at +night. Just come with me.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne followed him gladly. A brisk walk +of fifteen minutes brought them to a camp. +The tents gleamed white among the trees and +it seemed to the girl as though she had never +seen so many in all her life before. Some men +lounged lazily about one of the many fires +that dotted the place, talking in subdued +tones. They stared at the girl as the sentinel +came in with her but made no remark. The +soldier paused before a small tent and called +softly:</p> + +<p>“Miss Bob! Miss Bob! are you asleep?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span>“What is it, Johnson?” came the reply in +the soft sleepy tones of a girl.</p> + +<p>“Here is a girl out here who is lost. She +is hungry and wants a place to sleep. Will +you see to her? I am on duty.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. Go back to your post, Johnson. +I will be out in a minute.”</p> + +<p>“All right.” The soldier saluted and +walked off leaving Jeanne a prey to conflicting +emotions.</p> + +<p>In a few moments the flap of the tent was +pushed aside, and the slight figure of a girl +about Jeanne’s own age emerged from it.</p> + +<p>“You are lost?” she asked advancing toward +Jeanne and speaking quickly. “And +hungry, I think Johnson said. Come, we’ll +have something to eat, and then go to bed. +Are you tired?”</p> + +<p>Jeanne nodded, unable to speak.</p> + +<p>“Sit here by the fire while I fix things. +Jim,” to one of the men, “this girl is hungry. +Will you help me get something for her to +eat?”</p> + +<p>“’Course I will, Miss Bob.” The man +sprang to his feet and walked briskly away +disappearing into what Jeanne afterward +learned was the commissary department.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span>“We’ll have something in a jiffy,” remarked +the girl encouragingly, beginning to +poke up the fire.</p> + +<p>“See here, Miss Bob, let me do that,” and +another of the men ran to her side. “I +reckon Jim and me can fix things. ’Tain’t no +work for you.”</p> + +<p>Soon cold chicken, bread, and hot coffee +were placed before the hungry girl and she +ate ravenously.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know that soldiers had chickens +to eat,” she remarked with a sigh of satisfaction +as she finished the last morsel.</p> + +<p>The girl called Bob laughed merrily, the +men joining in heartily.</p> + +<p>“We don’t usually,” and Bob controlled +her risibles with difficulty, “but you see a +whole heap of them walked right into camp, +and so of course we ate them.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t it queer that they should come +right into camp?” said serious Jeanne. “I +always thought that you had to run after +them to catch them.”</p> + +<p>Again the girl and the men laughed.</p> + +<p>“Of course they didn’t exactly come here,” +said Bob comfortably, “but we’ve got the +smartest regiment in the whole Confederate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +army. I verily believe that it could catch +and skin a hog without a man leaving the +ranks. Oh, they are fine foragers!”</p> + +<p>“Forager?” Jeanne looked mystified. “I +wonder if Dick is a forager!”</p> + +<p>“Who is Dick?”</p> + +<p>“Dick is my brother in the army,” said +Jeanne proudly.</p> + +<p>“Well, if he is a soldier you can depend +upon it that he is a forager,” said Bob with +decision. “Which side is your brother on?”</p> + +<p>“The Union.”</p> + +<p>The smile died away from the girl’s lips at +the reply, and she looked at Jeanne with +coldness.</p> + +<p>“I did not think that you were a Southerner +when you spoke,” she said. “What are +you doing here? We are Confederates.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know,” answered Jeanne. “My +aunt and uncle left me on a deserted plantation +because I was a Yankee, and I started +back to New Orleans hoping that General +Butler would send me home. I must have +taken the wrong road, and so gotten lost. You +won’t turn me away, will you, just because I +am a Yankee?”</p> + +<p>“No; not for to-night anyway. I just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +hate Yankees, but I reckon you don’t count +as you are a girl. Come on to bed now, and +we’ll talk it over in the morning.”</p> + +<p>And Jeanne went into the tent content to +let the morrow take care of itself now that she +was sheltered for the night.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span><a id='link_19'></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>“BOB”</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>At</span> daybreak the roll of martial drums +startled Jeanne into wakefulness.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she cried, springing from the +couch.</p> + +<p>“The drummers are beating the reveille,” +answered the calm voice of Bob who was +already up. “That means that it is time to +get up. You needn’t be in a hurry, however. +There are two hours yet until breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“But you are dressing,” said Jeanne. “I +will too.”</p> + +<p>“I always get up when the regiment does,” +answered Bob. “But you are different. You +are a guest.”</p> + +<p>“What are you?” asked Jeanne curiously.</p> + +<p>“The Colonel’s daughter, and the child of +the regiment. What is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne Vance. I live in New York city.”</p> + +<p>“That is a long way from here,” said Bob. +“Do you mind telling me why you came +down here?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span>“I think I should like to,” replied Jeanne +gazing at the trim figure of the girl admiringly. +She was clad in a suit of gray cloth +consisting of a skirt and close fitting jacket +with epaulets upon the shoulders. A cap of +the same material was perched jauntily upon +her raven black hair. Her face, piquant +and sparkling, was tanned a healthy brown +through which the red of her cheeks glowed +brightly. Jeanne thought that she had never +seen a more charming girl, and, rebel though +she knew she was, she felt her heart drawn +toward her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think that I should like to tell +you,” she repeated, and then as rapidly as +possible she told of her mission and the events +that had followed its execution.</p> + +<p>Bob listened attentively.</p> + +<p>“It was awfully mean in your aunt to treat +you the way she did,” she commented as +Jeanne finished her story. “You are a brave +girl even if you are a Yankee, and I like you. +Father says there are some nice ones, but I +reckon that they haven’t so awfully many +brave ones among them, or we wouldn’t be +whipping them so.”</p> + +<p>“Whipping them?” cried Jeanne aghast. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +“What do you mean by whipping them? +We were doing all the whipping the last I +knew anything about it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you certainly haven’t heard the +news lately then,” rejoined Bob. “If you had, +you would have learned that General Bragg +had invaded Tennessee and Kentucky and +that the Confederates have both those states +back again. I tell you the Yankees are just +‘skedaddling’ before him.”</p> + +<p>“It can’t be true,” wailed Jeanne. “Kentucky +and Tennessee both taken from us +when we fought so hard to get them? Surely +it is not true!”</p> + +<p>“But it is,” asserted Bob positively. “And +that is not the greatest news: General Lee +has not only driven McClellan from in front +of Richmond, but he has invaded Maryland +and we expect to hear at any time that Washington +has fallen into our hands.”</p> + +<p>“Is it true?” asked Jeanne again turning +so pale that Bob thought she was going to +faint.</p> + +<p>“Here, drink this!” Bob tipped up her +canteen of water to Jeanne’s lips. “I did not +know that Yankees cared so much for such +things.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span>“Cared for such things,” echoed Jeanne indignantly. +“Of course we care. How could +any one hear that the Capital is menaced and +not care? But the traitors will never succeed +in taking it. Never! I know our people. +They will defend it with their lives, and drive +the treacherous miscreants, who would dare +profane by their touch, back to where they +belong.”</p> + +<p>“We are not traitors,” flashed Bob. “We +have a right to secede if we want to. The +Capital belongs as much to us as it does to +you, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t,” cried Jeanne angrily. “It +belongs to the North because the North is +trying to uphold the Government left to us +by our great and good Washington.”</p> + +<p>“Your great and good Washington,” sneered +Bob. “Washington belonged to us, I’d have +you know. He was a Virginian, and let me +tell you, that if it hadn’t been for Southerners +there never would have been any United +States anyway.”</p> + +<p>“There would too,” flashed back Jeanne. +“My great-grandfather fought in the Revolution, +and there were plenty who fought that +were not Southerners.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span>“And who led them, pray?” demanded Bob. +“Why, George Washington, a Southerner. +Who wrote the Declaration of Independence? +Thomas Jefferson, a Southerner. Who got up +the Constitution? Why James Madison, a +Southerner. And mind you, Jeanne Vance, +this country couldn’t be run at first except by +Southerners. Out of the first five presidents, +four were Southerners.”</p> + +<p>“Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, +Monroe,” and Jeanne counted them on her +fingers. “John Adams was a Massachusetts +man.”</p> + +<p>“Phew!” and Bob’s lips curled scornfully. +“And the people were so sick of him that +they only let him stay in four years. They +were glad enough to get back to us. I am +sure that I don’t wonder. I don’t see how +they could stand a New Englander.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid that you’ll have to,” said +Jeanne, wrathfully. “They are the best +people in the world. One of them is worth +a dozen Southerners.”</p> + +<p>“He isn’t,” blazed Bob. “He<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Why, what does this mean?” cried a +voice from without the tent. “Bob, is that +the way you treat a guest? I am surprised.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span>“It’s dad!” exclaimed Bob, rapidly untying +the flap of the tent. “Come in.”</p> + +<p>To Jeanne’s surprise she saluted her father +military fashion instead of kissing him. The +gentleman entered–a tall, black-haired, +black-eyed man of splendid military bearing +and courtly mien. His eyes were twinkling, +but he spoke to his daughter in rather a stern +tone.</p> + +<p>“Is this the way to entertain a guest, my +child? I suppose that this is the young lady +that Johnson brought in last night.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Bob, in a shamefaced +way. “She is a Yankee, and we were quarreling. +I don’t know how it began. Do +you?” to Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Jeanne. “I don’t.”</p> + +<p>“I am ashamed of myself,” said Bob, impulsively. +“I ought to have remembered +that you were my guest. If you will forgive +me this time I won’t do it any more.”</p> + +<p>“I was wrong too,” said Jeanne, humbly. +“We’ll forgive each other.”</p> + +<p>Bob hesitated a moment and then leaned +toward her.</p> + +<p>“There!” said the Colonel, as the girls +kissed. “That’s better. Leave it to the men +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +to settle the differences of the country. It is +not pleasant to see girls quarrel. Introduce +the little lady to me, Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne, this is my father, Colonel Peyton,” +said Bob. “Dad, this is Jeanne Vance, from +New York city. And she is a brave girl, if +she is a Yankee. You must get her to tell +you all about her adventures.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure that I shall be pleased to hear +them,” said the Colonel, affecting not to notice +Jeanne’s start of surprise as she heard his +name. “Do you girls know that it is breakfast +time?”</p> + +<p>“Mercy!” cried Bob. “Have the drums +beaten the call? I did not hear them. Did +you ever! We’ve been two hours talking +and–quarreling,” she added, in a lower tone.</p> + +<p>“Yes; there was a time when I thought +that it would be coffee and pistols for two,” +laughed the father. “Come, let us have +breakfast. I will hear the little lady’s story +while we eat.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked about her with curious eyes +as they emerged from the tent. Everywhere +there were tents that were arranged with +military precision back of a parade-ground +which formed the front. First were the tents +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span> +of the men arranged by companies. Next +after the tents of the men came those of the +commissioned officers of the companies. +These faced on streets which ran at right +angles with the company streets. Still back +of these were the tents of the Colonel and his +staff. The flag-staff at the edge of the parade-ground, +and immediately in front of the +Colonel’s tent, sported a Confederate flag that +waved gaily in the breeze. In the rear of all +were found the Quartermaster’s and Sutler’s +departments. Dick had often written about +the soldiers doing their own cooking but here +the camp seemed filled with negroes who +bustled about cooking and waiting upon the +soldiers as if they had been in their own +dining-rooms.</p> + +<p>“We are here awaiting orders,” said the +Colonel, when Jeanne had told him her story, +“but we expect to leave soon for Jackson. +There are a number of Federals in that vicinity. +It seems to me that your best plan +would be to remain with us until we reach +Jackson where I will try to get you to your +own side. They will assist you to get home. +That is where you ought to be.”</p> + +<p>“And where I wish to be,” said Jeanne. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span> +“You are very kind, Colonel Peyton. Kinder +than my own people were, and yet you know +that I am a Yankee.”</p> + +<p>“I am treating you as I would wish my +own daughter treated under like circumstances,” +replied the Colonel gravely. “I +don’t war on girls, and it seems to me that +you have had rather a hard time of it. Well, +we’ll get you out of it as soon as possible unless +you and Bob destroy each other in your +quarrels.” And he looked at them with a +humorous twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>“We won’t quarrel any more,” decided Bob. +“We have had our say and we feel better. +Don’t we, Jeanne?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” said Jeanne hesitatingly. “Only +I didn’t say all I wanted to.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” laughed Colonel Peyton. +“I’ve no doubt but that you will have the opportunity +yet. Did Bob tell you how she +came to be with me?”</p> + +<p>“No; how was it?”</p> + +<p>“I ran away,” said Bob, her mouth full of +chicken. “I have no mother. Nobody but +dad. So when the war broke out, and he +went into it I made up my mind that I would +go too. Dad sold off our darkies and sent me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +to stay with Aunt Betty in Mobile. I stood +it just as long as I could, then I took Jack, my +horse, and struck out for dad. I found him +finally, and now I’ve been with him for six +months. And I am going to stay too. Am I +not, dad?”</p> + +<p>“Until we get to Jackson,” answered her +father, regarding her fondly. “Then I shall +send you on to Vicksburg to stay with sister +Sally. That is the safest place in the Confederacy. +Once there my mind will be easy +about you. A camp is no place for a girl.”</p> + +<p>The breakfast was finished and Colonel +Peyton was about to leave them when he +turned to Bob abruptly.</p> + +<p>“By the way,” he said, “wasn’t it Mr. +Vance who bought Snowball?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it was, dad. I wonder how Madame +treats her! It seems to me that I’ve heard +some awful stories about the way she uses her +darkies.”</p> + +<p>“When she whips them she does whip +dreadfully,” said Jeanne. “But I only know +of once that she had Snowball whipped. And +you are the Colonel Peyton who bought her?” +Then she told them of Tenny, Snowball’s +mother.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span>“That was why you started when you +heard my name, was it not?” asked the +Colonel.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“I wondered just a little at the cause of it,” +remarked the officer as he left them. “Now, +girls, be good.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go to Vicksburg a bit,” +confided Bob to Jeanne as they reëntered the +former’s tent. “I just love soldiering. Besides +I want to be near dad. Suppose he +should be wounded. He’d die if I was not +right there to look after him. I’m not going +to say anything, but it will take a regular +guard to keep me with Aunt Sally.”</p> + +<p>“But if he wishes it,” said Jeanne to whom +her father’s lightest wish was law. “You will +have to stay then. He knows best.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t be best for me to be away from +him,” said Bob, rebelliously. “I should imagine +all sorts of things were happening to +him.”</p> + +<p>“Everybody who has a father or a brother +in the army does that,” said Jeanne sadly as +she thought of Dick. “But we have to stand +it, Bob, when the men and the boys will go to +the war. I could not if I didn’t think it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +right. If Dick should be killed<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” her +voice faltered a little–“it would be a noble +death. Admiral Farragut said that there was +no nobler one than to die for one’s country, +and I should try not to grieve too much if he +were to fall doing his duty.”</p> + +<p>“I do wish you were a Southerner,” said +Bob impulsively. “You feel just like we do +about those things. But, Jeanne, what if +your brother had thought that we were right +and had gone to our side? What would you +do then?”</p> + +<p>“Dick couldn’t do that,” cried Jeanne. +“Why the place where he was born and the +way he was brought up would be against it. +No; Dick couldn’t be a rebel.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I thought about Frank,” said +Bob, with bitterness. “That’s one reason that +I stick so close to dad. I have, or rather had, +a brother too, Jeanne. But he broke dad’s +heart and mine by going to fight with the +Yankees. Yet his place of birth and his raising +were both against it. I will never forgive +him,” and the tears rolled down her cheeks. +“And dad never will either.”</p> + +<p>“But he is your brother,” said Jeanne, +pressing her hand. “If he thinks he is right, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +even if he does differ with you, he is still +your brother.”</p> + +<p>“Never,” cried Bob, dashing the tears +from her eyes. “I have no brother. Come, +let’s go to see the men drill.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span><a id='link_20'></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE ARREST OF A SPY</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Jeanne</span> soon accustomed herself to the life +of the camp, but she did not grow fond of it +as Bob was. By her gentle way and pleasant +manners she became quite a favorite with +Colonel Peyton, but Bob reigned supreme in +the hearts of the men. She petted and +scolded them as if they were her brothers, and +Jeanne wondered when she saw how the strong +men submitted to her least command. But +the secret lay in the fact that the Southern +girl adored the soldiers and they knew it.</p> + +<p>“It’s the smartest regiment in the whole +Confederacy,” declared Bob with shining eyes +to Jeanne one day. “I don’t believe that +there is another like it in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Dick’s regiment is very gallant,” said +Jeanne, a trifle wistfully. “It has been complimented +publicly on account of its bravery.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it can’t beat the ‘Die No Mores,’” +said Bob. “The boys have been specially +good this week. Dad said last night that not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +a man had been under arrest for five days. I +always sing to them when that happens.”</p> + +<p>“Do you sing, Bob?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have quite a good voice,” said Bob +in such a matter-of-fact way that the other +girl smiled. “Do you?”</p> + +<p>“A little,” acknowledged Jeanne. “Father +used to like to hear me.”</p> + +<p>“Then we will give the boys a good time +to-night. They like singing and dad thinks +it helps to keep them cheerful. They often +sing themselves.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard them in the evening, and I +like it when they do not sing rebel songs,” +said honest Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Well, you can hardly expect them to sing +any other, can you?” demanded Bob. “I +don’t suppose that you do like it. I shouldn’t +want to hear the Federal songs if I were in +one of their camps. But the spirits of the +men must be kept up for we expect to meet +the enemy soon.”</p> + +<p>“Do you?” cried Jeanne. “Oh, Bob, do +you think that I could go to my side?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Jeanne. Dad said, you +know, that it would be best to go to Jackson +with us and then he would send you to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span> +Federals. You wouldn’t be any nearer getting +home with a party of skirmishers than you +are with us.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose not,” sighed Jeanne, “but it +would be something to be with my own +people.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll see,” replied Bob. “Although I +don’t like to have you leave, Jeanne. It is a +great deal nicer with you here. Dad likes it +too, I know, for he said to me yesterday: +‘Barbara,’ he always calls me Barbara when +he is serious, ‘I like that little lady. You +would please me if you would model your +manners after hers. You are a bit hoydenish +in your ways, and it grieves me. Fine manners +are to a girl as the perfume is to a flower.’ +I said, copy-book style: ‘Honored and respected +parent, after having brought me up +according to military regulations, don’t you +think it is a little unjust to twit me with my +manners? If they are lacking, blame the +code, not me.’ And then I saluted, and retired, +gracefully, I hope. At any rate the +shot told for I heard him laughing as I went +out. Now, Miss Vance, let me have a lesson. +I suppose it’s proper to begin with prunes and +prisms. There! do I say that right?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span>“Oh, Bob,” cried Jeanne laughing as Bob +perked up her mouth in a funny little grimace. +“What a girl you are!”</p> + +<p>“I hope you are well,” went on Bob with a +fine affectation of young ladyism. “Beautiful +weather we’re having, aren’t we? There! +Do you think dad will like that?”</p> + +<p>“I like you better your own natural self, +and I think that he does too,” said Jeanne. +“My ways don’t suit you, Bob, and yours +would not suit me. But I am sure that you +could have a fine manner without modeling +after me. I like you best just as you are.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said Bob, tucking her arm comfortably +within Jeanne’s. “And so does dad +but he doesn’t know it. I don’t want him to +get too fond of you.”</p> + +<p>Night came and as usual the soldiers gathered +around the fires to sing songs and to tell +stories. Presently Bob came among them to +fulfill her promise to sing to them. Jeanne +accompanied her, and the Northern girl wondered +at the self-possession and ease with +which the Colonel’s daughter stood before so +many men and sang. But the Southern girl +was so accustomed to the soldiers that she +thought nothing of it. Song after song she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +sang responding with the utmost good nature +to the repeated requests for more. At last she +cried:</p> + +<p>“Just one more, boys, and I must stop, for +I am tired. What shall it be?”</p> + +<p>“The Bonnie Blue Flag,” cried several +voices.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” and Bob began instantly:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘We are a band of brothers, and natives to the soil,</p> +<p>Fighting for the property we gained by honest toil;</p> +<p>And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far,</p> +<p>Hurrah for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!</p> +</div> + +<p class='c'>* * * * * * *</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘Then here’s to our Confederacy; strong we are and brave;</p> +<p>Like patriots of old we’ll fight our heritage to save;</p> +<p>And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer;</p> +<p>So cheer for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.</p> +<p> </p> +<p>“‘Then cheer, boys, cheer; raise the joyous shout,</p> +<p>For Arkansas and North Carolina now have both gone out;</p> +<p>And let another rousing cheer for Tennessee be given.</p> +<p>The single star of the bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be eleven.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>“Three cheers for the bonnie Blue Flag,” +called a voice and with a shout the soldiers +responded.</p> + +<p>“Now three for our beloved president, Jefferson +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span> +Davis! And three for the Confederacy!” +The men responded lustily.</p> + +<p>“And three cheers and a tiger for Miss +Bob, the child of the regiment,” shouted another +enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>These had scarcely died away when some +one called. “Why can’t the ‘Little Yank’ +give us a song?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; the ‘Little Yank,’” came from +all sides.</p> + +<p>For a moment Jeanne hesitated, and then +she stepped forward into the place which Bob +had vacated. Her heart beat fast as she +looked into the expectant faces before her.</p> + +<p>“I will sing of a flag too,” she said in clear +thrilling tones. With a quick motion she +drew the stars and stripes from her bosom and +shaking out its folds began earnestly:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘Oh! say can you see by the dawn’s early light,</p> +<p>What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming,</p> +<p>Whose stripes and bright stars, thro’ the perilous fight,</p> +<p>O’er the ramparts we watch’d were so gallantly streaming;</p> +<p>And the rockets, red glare, the bombs bursting in air,</p> +<p>Gave proof thro’ the night that our flag was still there!’”</p> +</div> + +<p>For a few moments every one was still +amazed at the girl’s audacity, but as the last +strain of the first stanza came from her lips a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +hoarse, angry murmur went up from the soldiers, +and there was a movement toward her. +But Jeanne heeded it not and in triumphant +tones began the chorus:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘Oh! say, does that star spangled banner yet wave,</p> +<p>O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!’”</p> +</div> + +<p>“Chuck that!” growled one of the men.</p> + +<p>“Stow it, or it will be the worst for you,” +called another.</p> + +<p>“You asked me to sing,” said the girl undauntedly. +“And I will choose my own song.”</p> + +<p>“She is right,” and Colonel Peyton pushed +his way to her side. “You asked her, boys, +and she can sing what she chooses. Take +your medicine like men.”</p> + +<p>Sullenly the soldiers settled back into their +places while Jeanne courageously finished her +song.</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t right,” said Bob angrily as +Jeanne joined her. “You didn’t treat the +boys right. If dad hadn’t been there they +wouldn’t have stood it.”</p> + +<p>“If they don’t want to hear such things +they must not ask me to sing,” cried Jeanne, +her eyes blazing. “I am compelled to hear +treason every day.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span>“You don’t need to stay here,” flashed +Bob.</p> + +<p>“I am sure that I don’t want to,” answered +Jeanne. “I want to go to my own people +and I will go to-morrow if your father will +let me. I don’t stay because I want to.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you needn’t be so glad to be rid of +us,” and the tears welled up into Bob’s eyes. +“I am sure that we are good to you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; you are,” and Jeanne went to her +quickly. “I shall be sorry to leave you, Bob, +but I do want to see my father and my +mother. It has been so long, so long.” She +turned away to hide her tears.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it has;” and Bob put her arm within +Jeanne’s affectionately. “I am sure that I +don’t blame you for wanting to see them. I +don’t know why I say such mean things, +Jeanne. I wish we didn’t quarrel.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe we can’t help it,” answered +Jeanne, pressing her arm.</p> + +<p>“No; I suppose you can’t help being a +Yankee,” said Bob, so dolefully that Jeanne +laughed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to,” she said. “I am not +sorry that you are a Southerner, but I wish +you were for the Union.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span>“Well, I don’t, and so there we are! I +suppose that there is just one thing to do,” +and Bob nodded her head sagely, “and that +is not to quarrel any more than we can help. +When we do we’ll make up, won’t we?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Jeanne. “We will.”</p> + +<p>Once more the two were friends, and thus +the days passed. October waned and soon +rested with the other months of the dying +year, and chill November reigned supreme. +Still the order to move did not come. There +was an uneasiness in the Colonel’s manner as +his scouts brought in news each day that the +country surrounding Jackson was filling up +with Federals.</p> + +<p>One morning a number of the companies +of the regiment left the camp, and Bob confided +to Jeanne the news that they expected +to be in an engagement before they returned.</p> + +<p>Jeanne, thrilled by the intelligence that she +was so near to her own people, sat thoughtfully +in front of the tent devoted to the use +of the girls.</p> + +<p>“Would it not be possible,” she wondered, +“for me to join them? These people are +kind and good, but would it not be much +better for me to be with those of my own +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +side? If I were with them they could send +me to some place where it would be safe for me +to take the cars for home. Father and mother +must be so worried. I will see Colonel Peyton +and ask him what he thinks of it,” she +cried, springing to her feet.</p> + +<p>She hastened toward the tent of the commander, +reaching it at the same time as a +number of soldiers did. A man was in their +midst who, although he wore a suit of butternut, +seemed to be a prisoner. Jeanne paused +as the men stopped directly in front of her, +and gave a cry of amazement at sight of the +man.</p> + +<p>“You,” she cried, in agitated tones. “Oh, +I thought that you were on our side!”</p> + +<p>A loud burst of laughter came from the +soldiers, and the prisoner became very pale.</p> + +<p>“I reckon the ‘Little Yank’ has called +your death sentence, pardner,” said one of the +Confederates, roughly. “That shows that +you are a spy all right enough.”</p> + +<p>“A spy,” cried Jeanne, a light flooding her +mind. “Oh, what have I done? What have +I done?”</p> + +<p>“Do not grieve,” said the young man, who +was none other than the officer whom she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +aided in Memphis. “They strongly suspected +it any way, and were taking me to their Commanding +officer for examination.”</p> + +<p>“There doesn’t need to be much examination,” +said a Confederate, bluntly. “Colonel +Peyton will make short work of you.”</p> + +<p>“Whom did you say?” cried the young +man in such agonized tones that all turned to +look at him.</p> + +<p>“Colonel Peyton,” was the reply. “Here +he is now.”</p> + +<p>“What does this mean, boys?” asked Colonel +Peyton, appearing in the door of his tent. +“What is the disturbance?”</p> + +<p>“A feller that we caught sneaking round +the camp,” answered the leader, gruffly. “He +claims to be a Southerner, and I reckon he is +one all right, but his actions are decidedly +suspicious. We were bringing him to you +when this girl recognized him, and called the +turn on him as belonging to the Federals.”</p> + +<p>“He is that worst of men, a Southerner +who has turned against the State that gave +him birth and who takes up arms against +her,” said the Colonel sternly, yet with emotion. +“I know him, men, personally. He is +an officer in the Federal army. If he was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span> +prowling about here in those clothes he is +without doubt a spy. Unhappy man,” he +continued, turning to the prisoner, “what +have you to say for yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” and the young fellow bowed +his head upon his breast.</p> + +<p>“You know the penalty of being caught as +a spy,” went on the pitiless voice of the Colonel. +“A spy is one of the most dishonorable +of men, and deserves any death given him. +We have not much time for such. You die +at sunrise. Take him, men, and guard him +well. I believe him to be a dangerous man.”</p> + +<p>He turned back into his tent, and the +soldiers started away with him, when Jeanne +darted to the young man’s side, and caught +his hand between her own.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” she sobbed. “I did not +know what I was doing. Forgive me.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, child,” said the young officer, +drearily. “It would have happened any way. +He knew me. I would rather have died in +battle, but after all I have been doing my +duty. It is not death I fear, but<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“But what?” asked Jeanne, as he paused.</p> + +<p>“It breaks my heart to be condemned to death +by my own father,” came the agonized reply.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span><a id='link_21'></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><span class='h2fs'>A SURPRISE AND AN ESCAPE</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>Your</span> father?” cried Jeanne, in amazement. +“Is Colonel Peyton your father?”</p> + +<p>The young man bowed in assent.</p> + +<p>“And he condemns you to death?” went +on the girl, a horrified expression on her face. +“How could he do such a thing? Oh, how +could he?”</p> + +<p>“By George,” broke from one of the Confederates. +“This is a pretty mess! Boys, the +old man has sentenced his own son to death +as a spy.”</p> + +<p>The soldiers crowded about the prisoner. +Jeanne drew close to him and laid her hand +pityingly upon his arm.</p> + +<p>“I will tell Bob,” she said. “Perhaps she +can persuade your father not to do this monstrous +thing.”</p> + +<p>“Bob! Is Bob here?” The Lieutenant +looked up eagerly and then shook his head. +“No,” he said, “she must not know. It +would break her heart. After all what has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span> +he done but what is just? Had it been any +other Federal we would commend him for +doing his duty. He could not do other than +he has done. But say nothing to Bob. Add +this to your other kindness, Miss Jeanne. +And, as this will probably be the last opportunity +I shall ever have, let me thank you +also for sending me to your home.”</p> + +<p>“Then you really went there,” cried Jeanne. +“You saw my father and my mother? How +did they look? Were they well? When did +you leave them? Oh, Lieutenant Peyton, +do tell me all about them.”</p> + +<p>“They are all well, or were when I left +them which was two months ago. They were +as kind to me as if I had been their own son. +I shall never forget them. But they were +worried because they had not heard from +you. After you left Memphis no word came +to them. Child, why do you treat such +parents so? Why are you here in place of +being at home? It is wrong to subject them +to so much uneasiness. They cannot think +what has happened to you?”</p> + +<p>“But I have written,” cried Jeanne, tearfully. +“And I want to get home. I don’t +want to stay here one bit. I want<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span>“Men, why do you dally here with your +prisoner?” came in stern tones from Colonel +Peyton who had approached the group unobserved. +“I desire that no further communication +be allowed between this man and that +girl. Are they not both Federals?”</p> + +<p>“Being as he was your son, Colonel,” said +the leader, saluting, “we thought<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Your business is to obey orders, not to +think,” interrupted the officer brusquely. +“He is no son of mine. My son died to me +long ago.”</p> + +<p>“Dad,” cried the cheery voice of Bob as +she came toward him. “They say that you +have caught a spy. Where is he? Why<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” +Her gaze fell upon the prisoner and she +stopped short. “Frank,” she cried, shrilly, +“it’s Frank! Oh, dad, what does it mean?”</p> + +<p>“It means,” said the Colonel, trying to +draw her away, “that you have no brother, +Bob. This man is nothing to you. He is a +spy and as such dies at sunrise.”</p> + +<p>“At sunrise!” shrieked Bob. “No, no!”</p> + +<p>“Away with that fellow,” ordered the Colonel, +harshly. “And mind! I shall hold each +one of you personally responsible for his +safety. Bob,” as the soldiers bore his son +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +away, “you are under arrest. Go to your +quarters and stay there until I release you. +And you also,” to Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“You have no right to arrest me, Colonel +Peyton,” said Jeanne coldly. “I refuse to +obey any man who sentences his own son to +death.”</p> + +<p>“You refuse to obey me?” cried the Colonel, +loth to believe his ears. “Me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, you. I do not consider myself +under arrest. You have no right to put me +there. I am neither your daughter nor your +slave,” and Jeanne put her arm around Bob +and faced him defiantly.</p> + +<p>“There are ways of enforcing obedience, +young lady,” said the Colonel. “Bob, to +your quarters.”</p> + +<p>“But, dad,<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“To your quarters,” commanded her father +sternly. “Johnson,” to a soldier, “see that +these girls are well-guarded until I give other +orders.”</p> + +<p>And so it came about that a guard was +placed about their tent and the girls found +themselves as closely watched as if they were +indeed prisoners. In the afternoon as they +sat disconsolately together a confusion without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +told that something unusual was going +on. Jeanne went to the aperture in the +front of the tent and looked out.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she asked of the sentry.</p> + +<p>“Our men coming back,” was the answer. +“They have a number of prisoners and have +captured some fine horses.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne reported the news to Bob, but she +received it apathetically. So overcome by +grief was she that she appeared to no longer +care for anything.</p> + +<p>“Bob,” said Jeanne suddenly, “can’t we do +something to help your brother?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid not,” answered Bob in heartbroken +accents. “What can we do? We are +only girls. What can we do?”</p> + +<p>“Well, we can make an effort. I will never +forgive myself if I don’t do something for +him.”</p> + +<p>“Why should you care?” asked Bob listlessly. +“He is not your brother.”</p> + +<p>“No, Bob, he isn’t. But he is one of our +officers, and I intend to help him get away. +It would be an awful thing for him to die by +the hand of his father.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do?” asked Bob +looking at her with a gleam of interest.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span>“I don’t know. I have been thinking all +day and I don’t know,” said Jeanne. “But +we must do something. I did not think that +your father could be so cruel.”</p> + +<p>“He is doing his duty,” said Bob with pale +lips. “Poor dad! Jeanne, you think him +hard-hearted, but I know that this will kill +him. Poor, poor dad!”</p> + +<p>“Then if he cares why does he condemn his +son to death?” asked Jeanne in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Because he came here as a spy, and dad +could not overlook that fact even if he is his +son. Dad must regard Frank as a Federal, +Jeanne. He is bound to as a Confederate +officer.”</p> + +<p>“But you are not bound. Surely you are +not going to let your brother die without trying +to save him?”</p> + +<p>“Dad will never forgive me,” said Bob +weakly. “And yet I can’t let Frank die.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” answered Jeanne. “Now, +Bob, let’s think hard. Maybe between us we +can get some plan.”</p> + +<p>But the time passed, and darkness found +them still with no plan matured.</p> + +<p>“We will save our rations,” said Bob as +their supper was handed in to them. “Frank +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +ought to have them to take with him if he +succeeds in escaping. If he doesn’t we won’t +care to eat.”</p> + +<p>So they carefully put up the food into a +small package, and again fell to discussing +ways and means for the escape of Lieutenant +Peyton.</p> + +<p>“Bob,” exclaimed Jeanne presently, “do +you know that I have not heard the guard +patrol our tent for a long time?”</p> + +<p>Bob listened intently, and then sprang to +her feet.</p> + +<p>“It’s true,” she exclaimed excitedly. “I +wonder what the reason is?”</p> + +<p>They ran to the door of the tent and peered +out cautiously. There seemed to be a commotion +of some kind in camp. Men were hurrying +to and fro; bayonets rattled, and the subdued +murmur of many voices plainly told +that an unusual movement was on foot. The +girls looked on breathlessly and presently they +heard the order given for the men to fall in +line. Then “Forward, March!” came the +command and the ranks filed out of the camp +on the double quick, the Colonel at their head.</p> + +<p>“Something’s up,” said Bob with conviction. +“Let’s go down to where the prisoners +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +are, Jeanne, and see how the land lies. Then +maybe we will know what to do.”</p> + +<p>Silently Jeanne signified her assent and the +two stole quietly through the long rows of +tents to where the prisoners were.</p> + +<p>“There is but one guard,” whispered Bob +in delight. “See, Jeanne! Frank lies the +closest to the fire. He is bound too, hand +and foot.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” whispered Jeanne. “Let’s get +closer, Bob.”</p> + +<p>Cautiously they approached nearer to the +men. Presently Jeanne uttered an exclamation +and stopped stock still.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked Bob quickly. “Did +you hurt yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Bob,” whispered Jeanne in great agitation, +“do you see that young fellow just beyond +Frank? The one with the yellow hair, +I mean.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jeanne. Why?”</p> + +<p>“That is my brother Dick. They shan’t +have Dick, Bob. Not if I had to face the +whole Confederate army myself.”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne, is it truly Dick? Aren’t you +mistaken? Maybe it’s only some one who +looks like him.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span>“It’s Dick,” said Jeanne positively. “Watch +him. He will know my voice.” Regardless +of caution she began singing softly the then +popular melody:</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘Will you come with me, my Phillis dear,</p> +<p> To yon blue mountain free,</p> +<p>Where the blossoms smell the sweetest,</p> +<p> Come rove along with me.</p> +<p>It’s every Sunday morning,</p> +<p> When I am by your side,</p> +<p>We’ll jump into the wagon,</p> +<p> And all take a ride.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>Bob watched the young fellow as Jeanne’s +voice floated out upon the night air. The +boy, he was scarcely more than that, raised +himself to a sitting posture instantly, a blank +look of amazement upon his face.</p> + +<p>“Miss Bob,” came from the guard, “it’s +against orders for either you or the ‘Little +Yank’ to be about the prisoners. I’m mighty +sorry, but you’ll have to go.”</p> + +<p>“Johnson,” said Bob coaxingly, “haven’t I +always been good to you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Who looked after you when you were +wounded, and cooked for you, and wrote your +letters to your wife?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span>“Miss Bob, for goodness sake don’t tell me +any of those things now. The Colonel’s +away, and there are just a few of us left to +guard the prisoners and the camp. ’Tain’t +right, Miss Bob.”</p> + +<p>“You said that there was nothing that you +would not do for me,” went on Bob inexorably.</p> + +<p>“And I meant it,” said the poor fellow. “I +know what you mean. I know that’s your +brother. But you must not ask it of me. +Please, Miss Bob.”</p> + +<p>“I’m only going to ask you to turn your +back for ten minutes,” said Bob.</p> + +<p>“And his knife,” whispered Jeanne tremblingly. +“Get his knife, Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Turn your back for ten minutes,” repeated +Bob, “and lend me your knife.”</p> + +<p>“For the love of mercy, Miss Bob,” pleaded +Johnson, “don’t ask this of me. It means +worse than death to me. It is a betrayal of +trust.”</p> + +<p>“Your knife, Johnson,” and Bob held out +her hand. “What would your wife think of +your refusing me anything?”</p> + +<p>“Take it,” said the man with the resignation +of despair. “The Colonel will have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +me shot like a dog, but take it. I cannot +refuse.”</p> + +<p>He handed her the knife and then turned +his back full upon the prisoners.</p> + +<p>“Quick,” whispered Jeanne. “Cut your +brother’s bonds first, and then let me have the +knife.”</p> + +<p>She ran to her brother’s side as she spoke +and threw her arms about him.</p> + +<p>“Dick, Dick,” she said kissing him repeatedly. +“I am going to cut the cords that bind +you. Then you must run for your life.”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne,” came the amazed voice of the +lad, “how in the name of all that’s wonderful, +did you come here?”</p> + +<p>“I am well and happy,” cried Jeanne hurriedly. +“I cannot tell you more now, but I +am going home soon. Don’t mind about me. +Bob, hurry, hurry, before Johnson turns.”</p> + +<p>“There!” said Bob flinging her the knife. +Rising to her feet triumphantly she called to +her friend. “Be quick, Jeanne! Johnson is +looking at his watch.”</p> + +<p>“Run, boys,” panted Jeanne as the keen +edge of the blade severed the cord that bound +her brother’s feet. “If you value your lives, +run like the wind.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span>Frank Peyton needed no second bidding. +He was off but Dick Vance hesitated as he +glanced at his sister.</p> + +<p>“She is safe,” cried Bob, reading his glance +aright. “I will answer for her with my life. +Go! Go! Don’t look yet, Johnson. One +minute more in pity!”</p> + +<p>“No;” and Johnson wheeled round. +“Your brother is gone, but not another prisoner +goes. I am not beholden to any Federal.” +He swung his gun to his shoulder just +as Dick darted away.</p> + +<p>With a scream of terror Jeanne threw herself +upon him while Bob caught hold of the +musket.</p> + +<p>“It’s my brother,” shrieked Jeanne. “You +must not, you shall not shoot!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll be switched,” growled Johnson +in disgusted tones. “Does the whole Federal +army happen to be related to you two girls? +This is a pretty affair! But that Yank doesn’t +get away if the Colonel’s son does.”</p> + +<p>Shaking himself free from their clinging +hands he fired two shots in the direction that +Dick Vance had taken. As other men came +running up they gave chase to the fugitives.</p> + +<p>“They dare not follow far,” comforted Bob, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +as Jeanne gave vent to a flood of tears. “They +won’t dare to leave the camp long.”</p> + +<p>“Come then,” and Jeanne dashed away her +tears as an idea flashed into her mind. “Let’s +call them back.”</p> + +<p>She took Bob’s hand and ran with her to +another part of the camp.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span><a id='link_22'></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><span class='h2fs'>DICK TO THE FORE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Jeanne</span> uttered an exclamation of joy as she +stumbled upon a musket that for some reason +had been thrown aside.</p> + +<p>“This is the very thing,” she cried.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do?” asked Bob.</p> + +<p>“I am going to make the guards think that +we are attacked,” answered Jeanne, swinging +the gun to her shoulder as she had seen the +men do. Before the other could stop her she +had pulled the trigger. There was a flash followed +by a loud report, and with a groan +Jeanne fell prone upon the earth.</p> + +<p>“Jeanne,” shrieked Bob, falling beside her. +“Jeanne, are you hurt? Oh, she’s shot! +She’s shot!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bob! Miss Bob, where are you?” +shouted the voices of the soldiers, and a number +of those who had been left to guard the +camp ran hither and thither in confusion.</p> + +<p>“To arms!” came the hoarse command of +an officer. “We are attacked.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span>“Here! Oh, come here!” called Bob as +Jeanne lay groaning upon the ground. +“Captain Dallas, come here!”</p> + +<p>In a few moments the soldiers were about +them. Captain Dallas raised the fallen girl +carefully.</p> + +<p>“Where are you hurt?” he asked gently. +“Which way did the shot come?”</p> + +<p>“It was the gun,” moaned Jeanne, feebly +finding herself able to talk. “It went off at +the wrong end.”</p> + +<p>“Well, by George,” cried the Captain bursting +into a laugh, “we’re nicely fooled, boys. +The girl isn’t shot. She fired the gun herself. +The musket kicked. That’s all. Now you +girls go to bed,” he ordered sternly, “and +let’s have no more nonsense.”</p> + +<p>“But Dick,” said Jeanne, getting upon her +feet. “You haven’t caught Dick, have you?”</p> + +<p>“If you mean the fellow that left with the +Colonel’s son, no,” answered the Captain. +“We can’t spare the men to give chase, but +there will be a reckoning for somebody when +Colonel Peyton gets back. Now go to bed. +You’ll let us keep the rest of our prisoners, I +reckon,” he added with sarcasm.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Bob, laughing a little hysterically. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +“It was just our brothers that we +were after.”</p> + +<p>“Better go to the surgeon and get something +for that shoulder,” called the Captain as +they started off. “It’s liable to be pretty lame +for a few days.”</p> + +<p>Bob profited by his advice and sought the +surgeon who gave her some liniment to rub +on it, but the morning found it still so lame +that Jeanne retained her bed.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the third day the Colonel +and his men returned, worn and jaded +looking. There were no prisoners, and from +the spiritless condition of the soldiers it looked +as though they had been on a fruitless enterprise.</p> + +<p>“And if that is the case,” remarked Bob to +Jeanne, “dad will be in an awful humor, +and we’ll catch it.”</p> + +<p>It was afternoon before Colonel Peyton +sought their presence. Bob’s face blanched +as her father entered the tent, but Jeanne, +strong in the belief that Dick was safe, faced +him boldly.</p> + +<p>“I want to hear the whole of this affair,” +said Colonel Peyton quietly ignoring his +daughter’s greeting. “Barbara, tell me just +what happened.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span>Briefly Bob related the facts of the +night’s occurrence. Her father listened attentively.</p> + +<p>“And you threw up to Johnson the benefits +conferred upon him,” he said as Bob finished +her narrative. “I would not have believed +it of you, Barbara. Johnson has been court-martialed +and sentenced to the guard house +for one month. The officers were merciful +because that unhappy boy was my son. But +I cannot risk a second offense of this nature. +Hereafter, you will occupy quarters next to +my own. I did not dream that my daughter +would so far forget what was due to herself as +to aid in the escape of the enemies of her +country. I cannot but think it owing to the +companionship of the past few weeks. That +you may not be influenced further I forbid +you to have any further communication with +this girl. As for you,” turning to Jeanne and +speaking sternly, “as I have passed my word +to you that you shall be sent to the Federal +lines it shall be done. We leave for Jackson +to-morrow. At the first opportunity I will +send you to your people. Meantime, may I +ask that you refrain from any intercourse +whatever with my daughter? It is the smallest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +return that you can make, in view of your +conduct of the last few days.”</p> + +<p>“I have no desire to do other than you +wish, Colonel Peyton,” said Jeanne proudly. +“I am not sorry for anything I have done. +Were it to do over, I would not hesitate for a +moment to do anything I could to restore +either my brother or your son to liberty. I +am very sorry if my conduct has not pleased +you. I should think that you would be glad +to be saved from being the slayer of your +son.”</p> + +<p>“We will not discuss the matter,” said the +Colonel coldly. “Come, Barbara, I will take +you to your quarters, and under pain of my +severest displeasure, I expect that you will +have no more to say to this young person.”</p> + +<p>Bob gave Jeanne a long sad look, and then +silently gathering up her belongings, left the +tent.</p> + +<p>And now began a dreary time for Jeanne. +Cold looks greeted her on every side. The +old, pleasant, cheery companionship with Bob +was no more. She missed even the tiffs they +had had, and longed with a passionate yearning +for home and friends. The march to +Jackson would have been a pleasant one as it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +led through the autumn woods which shone +through a silvery mist amid spicy breezes +which blew cool and keen from the heart of +the pines, had it not been for the manner in +which she was treated.</p> + +<p>No one paid the least attention to her comings +and goings. Indeed it seemed to her +that Colonel Peyton would gladly welcome +the fact of her disappearance, and so she grew +into the habit of riding a little apart from the +others and sometimes of loitering considerably +in the rear of the cavalcade. It had been the +original intention that she go in the wagon +with Bob, but under the altered conditions a +horse had been given her while Bob rode in +front with her father.</p> + +<p>The afternoon of the second day out Jeanne +dropped behind the regiment, for she was +very tired, intending to wait for the wagons +and to ask the drivers to let her rest for a +while in one of them. A bend of the road +hid the regiment from view. The wagons +were far in the rear and for the time she was +alone.</p> + +<p>“Jeanne,” came her name in low tones +from the underbrush at the side of the road.</p> + +<p>Jeanne drew rein quickly and looked wonderingly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +about her. She saw nothing and +thinking that she had imagined the call, she +started to go on, when it came again.</p> + +<p>“Jeanne! Jeanne! Wait a moment.”</p> + +<p>Pale and trembling the girl stopped, and +then to her astonishment Dick came breathlessly +though the undergrowth.</p> + +<p>“Dick!” she cried. “Oh, Dick!”</p> + +<p>“I have waited and watched for this chance +ever since I left the camp,” cried the lad. +“Come with me, Jeanne. You have no business +with these rebels.”</p> + +<p>“But Colonel Peyton<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” began Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Come,” cried Dick seizing the bridle of +her horse. “I do not understand why you +are here, but it is no place for you. I will +take you home.”</p> + +<p>“Will you, Dick?” asked the girl joyfully, +preparing to dismount.</p> + +<p>“Don’t get off the horse. We will need +him. I don’t know just where our men are, +and we may have a long distance to go.”</p> + +<p>“But he is not ours,” objected Jeanne, +whose residence among soldiers had not been +long enough to render her conscience elastic +on this point.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he is,” answered Dick. “The Government +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span> +confiscated all the property belonging +to the Johnnies long ago, and I guess this +horse comes under that act. I am only doing +my duty in taking the animal.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?” asked Jeanne, dubiously.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, I do,” and the lad led the horse +away from the road into the thicket. “I +thought I was going to have lots of trouble +to get you away from those people,” he said, +when they were a safe distance.</p> + +<p>“They don’t care anything about me,” said +the girl, sadly. “O Dick, I’ve had such a +time!”</p> + +<p>“There! There!” Dick drew her head +against his shoulder caressingly. “It’s all +over now. I’ll take care of you. But tell +me, Jeanne, how in the world did you come +down here in this benighted country? I left +you safe at home in New York and find you +here. How did it happen?”</p> + +<p>“I thought that perhaps father had written,” +and Jeanne looked up through her tears.</p> + +<p>“No; I have not heard from the folks for +quite a while, but we have been on the march, +and I was taken prisoner. I know that there +are letters for me somewhere.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span>“Then I will begin at the beginning,” said +Jeanne, stroking his hair tenderly. “Oh, +Dick, it is so good to be with some one who +belongs to me!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span><a id='link_23'></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>RECAPTURE</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>We</span> must not stay here, Jeanne,” said +Dick, after his sister had finished her narrative. +“We must strike out for the Mississippi +River. Once there we may see some of +our boats. That will be our best show for +getting to our lines.”</p> + +<p>“Is it far to the river, Dick?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Jeanne. If I felt sure that +Colonel Peyton would send you to our men, I +would let you go on with him, but after the +treatment given you, I don’t like to let you go +back.”</p> + +<p>“No; let me stay with you, Dick. I feel +as if I never wanted to see a rebel again.”</p> + +<p>“You are liable to see a good many of them +before we are out of this,” remarked Dick. +“The woods are full of them. I fear<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“What?” asked Jeanne, as the lad paused.</p> + +<p>“For you, sister. It will be a long, hard +journey. I wish I had known just how matters +stood and I would have left you where +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +you were. You have shown yourself a brave +girl, and it will take all your courage and +resolution now to stand up under the perils +we will have to encounter. I wish we had +some money. The Johnnies aren’t averse to +taking our money for all their devotion to +their cause. It would help us wonderfully.”</p> + +<p>“See here, Dick!” Jeanne took a roll of +bills from her dress. “Will this be enough?”</p> + +<p>“Where did you get it?” cried Dick in delight. +“Why, this is fine!”</p> + +<p>“Father gave it to me just before I left,” +answered Jeanne. “He little thought that it +would help us both to get back to him. I +know Aunt Clarisse would have taken it if +she had remembered telling me to hide it.”</p> + +<p>“Father will have a settling with Uncle +Ben and his wife,” cried the boy, his eyes +flashing. “I’d just like to meet the lady myself. +I don’t think she’d like what she would +hear!”</p> + +<p>“I know it,” and the girl looked at him +admiringly. “I just feel as if my troubles +were all over. What a soldier you are, +Dick!”</p> + +<p>“You are a pretty good one yourself,” answered +Dick. “I had no idea, Jeanne, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span> +you could stand fire as you did on that transport. +Why, I have known big men to be +afraid in a battle.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the blood,” observed the girl, sagely. +“How could we be other than brave, when +our ancestors fought in the Revolution? We +just can’t help it.”</p> + +<p>Dick laughed.</p> + +<p>“Ancestors don’t seem to help some fellows +I know,” he said. “You’d be surprised at +some of the things they do. They play sick, +fall in behind the rest of us, or do anything +in the world to get out of the way of the +bullets. The queer part of the whole thing +is that those who expose themselves the most +rarely get hurt while the shots seek the +cowards.”</p> + +<p>Thus conversing the two pursued their +journey. Darkness came on, and Dick proposed +a halt and rest for the night.</p> + +<p>“There are so many swamps,” he said, +“and so many of those things they call +bayous that I like to see where I am going. +You won’t be afraid to stay out all night, will +you? There isn’t a house in sight, and it +might not be safe for us to go to it if there +were.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span>“I am not afraid with you, Dick. But it +does look rather ghost-like, doesn’t it, with all +that moss hanging from the trees?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; the forest is not so fine as our own +Adirondacks. I don’t like this country anyway. +There are cypress swamps and malaria +every time you turn round. Malaria has +killed more of the boys than all the shots the +rebs ever fired. You won’t get sick, will you?”</p> + +<p>“I stood New Orleans in the summertime,” +said the girl, “and they said down +there that anybody who could live there +through the summer could live anywhere. +But you have not told me how you came to +be down here.”</p> + +<p>“Our regiment was sent to Corinth,” answered +Dick. “With a few others I was +taken prisoner during the battle there. General +Van Dorn sent us to Jackson, and from +there we were to be taken by rail to Richmond, +Virginia. For some reason the orders +were changed, and we were marched on foot +to your camp. What they intended to do +with us is more than I know. I tell you, I +was glad to be free again.”</p> + +<p>“You are so pale,” said Jeanne, touching +him gently. “Are you well, Dick?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span>“Fine! Just need a good square meal to +set me up all right,” answered the boy +cheerily. “I haven’t had very much to eat +since you girls set me free. Just what I could +find in the woods. Herbs and wild grapes, +and persimmons. I eat the green ones +mostly.”</p> + +<p>“But why?” asked Jeanne mystified. +“The ripe ones are ever so much better. +I like them now, although I didn’t at +first.”</p> + +<p>“The green ones are best if you don’t have +much to eat,” rejoined Dick. “They are fine +to draw the stomach up to fit the supply. +Say, Jeanne, don’t you wish we had some of +mother’s doughnuts?”</p> + +<p>“You poor, poor boy,” cried Jeanne laughing, +but there were tears in her eyes. “I wish +we were where we could get them. Will the +war last much longer, Dick?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid so,” was the lad’s reply. +“The rebs have played the mischief this fall, +and it looks as if all our work had to be done +over again. Now, Jeanne, you go to sleep, or +you won’t be fit to travel to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“And what will you do?”</p> + +<p>“Watch while you sleep. Never mind me. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span> +I am used to it. I have often stood guard, +and can do it just as well as not.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe that anything will bother +us, brother. I wish you would sleep too.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Dick sturdily, “not now.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne tried to obey him but sleep would +not come to her. The dark pines were on all +sides of them. The owls hooted dismally, +and the chill wind sobbed and moaned fitfully +in the pine trees. Presently Dick stooped +over her.</p> + +<p>“Are you cold, Jeanne?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Dick. And I can’t sleep a bit. +Can’t we talk, or walk, or do something?”</p> + +<p>“We will walk,” decided Dick. “I think +that the horse must be rested by this time. +What is his name?”</p> + +<p>“Robert E. Lee,” answered Jeanne in a +hesitating tone fearing that Dick might not +like the animal to be so called. “Bob called +him ‘Rel’ for short, and so do I because I +don’t like the full name.”</p> + +<p>“Lee is a fine general,” commented Dick. +“If we had had him on our side to begin +with, the war would have been over by this +time. I hope the horse is worthy of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +name. Take my hand, Jeanne, and we will +start.”</p> + +<p>Throwing the rein over his shoulder Dick +guided himself by the stars and the brother +and sister again took up their journey to the +westward. Slowly they proceeded, stopping +occasionally to rest and picking their way +carefully through the forest. At last, just at +the break of day, they came to a clearing in +the woods in which stood a cabin. The blue +smoke curled invitingly from the chimney, +and in the open door stood a venerable +darky.</p> + +<p>“It’s darkies,” cried Dick joyfully. “They +will give us something to eat.”</p> + +<p>They hurried forward. The old man stared +at them as they approached him.</p> + +<p>“Could you give us some breakfast, sir?” +asked Dick. “We are willing to pay well for +it. We are Unionists.”</p> + +<p>“’Meriky,” called the old man excitedly, +“hyar’s two ob Massa Linkum’s folks wantin’ +sumthing ter eat. Yes, suh; kum in, suh. +We’ll gib yer what we’ve got. Kum in!”</p> + +<p>Gladly they entered. A bright looking +colored woman surrounded by half a dozen +pickaninnies of all ages and sizes from two to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +fifteen was busily preparing the morning meal. +She bustled forward bowing and courtesying +as they entered.</p> + +<p>“Kum in an’ welcome,” she said. “Lawsie, +you is one ob Massa Linkum’s sojers sho’ nuff. +Hain’t neber seed one befo’. We all jest lubs +Fadder Abraham, suh.”</p> + +<p>“And the horse?” said Dick suggestively.</p> + +<p>“Dat’s all right, suh. Hyar, Geo’ge Washington! +Done yer see de gem’man’s hoss a +stan’ing dere? Gib him sum fodder.”</p> + +<p>With homely but cheerful hospitality they +pressed the viands upon them. It seemed to +Jeanne that nothing had ever tasted so good +before, and she could not but gaze in wonder +at the quantity of hominy, molasses, cornbread +and rye coffee that Dick managed to +stow away.</p> + +<p>“What would it have been if he hadn’t +eaten the green persimmons,” she wondered.</p> + +<p>“You all is a moughty long ways from your +lines,” remarked the old man as Dick told +them that he been taken prisoner and was +making his escape. “Dere’s sojers all ’bout +in dese hyar woods. ’Clar ter goodness I done +see how yer gwine ter git away from ’em.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll manage,” said Dick hopefully. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span> +felt now that he could face all of Van Dorn’s +brigade. “Take this, my friend, and tell us +the best road to reach the Mississippi +River.”</p> + +<p>“Thankky kindly, massa,” said the old +darky, taking the dollar bill that Dick gave +him with the eagerness of a child. “See +hyar, ’Meriky, it’s Linkum money. Good +Linkum money!”</p> + +<p>“Sho’ nuff it am,” cried ’Merica examining +it. “Thankky, suh; and you too, missy. +Ef yer eber sees Massa Linkum tell him how +we all lubs him, an’ dat we am a lookin’ +fohwa’d ter resting in his bosom.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” said Jeanne with quick courtesy +as a suspicious sound came from Dick’s direction. +“Perhaps some day you will see him +for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“De Lohd grant it,” came from the negroes +fervently. “De good buk done promised dat +we shall lie in Fadder Abraham’s bosom, an’ +we knows we will. Tell him we’s ’spectin’ it +suah ter kum ter pass.”</p> + +<p>“Though how Lincoln is going to take +them all into his bosom passes my comprehension,” +was Dick’s laughing comment as +they went on their way.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span>“I think that he has done it already, +Dick,” said the girl with truer insight than +the boy. “They know it too, poor souls! I +hope that they will get to see him. I think +if I were a negro I would walk all the way to +Washington to do it.”</p> + +<p>They were fortunate enough to obtain some +ears of corn from the home of a poor white, +the woman being so suspicious of them that +she would not permit them to enter her house. +She gladly however took the money they +offered and gave them the corn.</p> + +<p>To all inquiries concerning the Mississippi +River they were told that if they kept on in +the same direction that they were going they +would reach it in time.</p> + +<p>“All of which is very specific,” growled +Dick as he threw himself under a tree and +declared a halt. “I wonder if any of them +ever saw the river in their lives.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe that they have,” said +Jeanne. “I found out in New Orleans that +these people that they call ‘poor whites’ are +very ignorant. But we’ll reach it some way, +Dick.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I begin to think that we will,” said +Dick complacently. “I wish that I had a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span> +Confederate uniform though. These clothes +are rather conspicuous.”</p> + +<p>“Dick,” cried Jeanne in horrified tones, +“you would not wear that uniform for a +minute, would you?”</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t I?” chuckled Dick. “I wish I +had a chance to try. Then we would not have +to skulk along this way but would go boldly +to the nearest town and board a train, and +there we’d be!”</p> + +<p>“I would not wear one,” declared Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t change my principles,” said +Dick. “The clothes don’t make the man only +in the eyes of other people, and that is what +we want now. I would be just as true a Unionist +as I am now, and it would be much +safer for us both. A uniform and a gun are +just what I need. I am going to get them!”</p> + +<p>He rose determinedly as he spoke and +helped Jeanne on the horse.</p> + +<p>“Get on too, Dick,” she pleaded. “You +have walked all the time and your shoes are +in tatters. Please get up too.”</p> + +<p>To please her Dick climbed up before her, +and they started off at a brisk pace. Suddenly +from a bend in the road before them a body +of rebel cavalry cantered into view. Jeanne +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +tittered a cry of alarm but Dick setting his +teeth made a quick dash into the woods.</p> + +<p>The rebels had seen them, however, and +giving vent to their terrible yell, they dashed +in pursuit.</p> + +<p>“Surrender,” cried the leader as they drew +near the hapless pair. “Surrender!”</p> + +<p>“Never!” cried Dick, furiously urging his +horse to greater speed. A shower of bullets +fell about them. The horse stumbled and +then swayed heavily. Dick leaped from the +animal’s back and swung Jeanne to the +ground just as the poor brute fell. Throwing +his arms about his sister the boy faced the +men defiantly.</p> + +<p>“You are our prisoner, Yank,” yelled the +leader as they surrounded them.</p> + +<p>“My sister,” came from the lad’s lips. His +face was very pale and a despairing look came +into his eyes. He tottered and fell as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>“Dick!” shrieked Jeanne, frantically flinging +herself beside him. “Dick, Dick!”</p> + +<p>“Wounded,” was the terse remark of the +Captain as he made a brief examination. +“By George, but he showed pluck to face us +as he did! Look here, boys.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span>Turning back the lad’s shirt he showed a +gaping wound in his chest. With a cry of +agony at the sight, the world turned dark to +Jeanne, and she fell prostrate across the form +of her brother.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span><a id='link_24'></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>VICKSBURG</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>When</span> Jeanne recovered consciousness she +knew by the rumbling and roaring that she +was on board a train. The riding was very +rough, and hardly realizing where she was she +began to feel about her for the cushions, +weakly wondering where the lights were. It +came to her with a sudden shock as her +fingers touched nothing but wood that she +was lying prone upon the floor of some sort +of a car with not even a blanket under her.</p> + +<p>The knowledge brought back the full remembrance +of what had happened, and she +sat up quickly and tried to peer about her.</p> + +<p>“Dick,” she called. “Dick!”</p> + +<p>A low moan was the answer. Guided by +the sound Jeanne groped her way in its direction, +and soon came in contact with the +prostrate form of the boy.</p> + +<p>“Dick,” she cried again. “Dick, is it +you?”</p> + +<p>“Jeanne,” came the reply, in weak tones, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +“are you safe? I called but you did not +answer. I did not know you were here. +What has happened? Were you asleep?”</p> + +<p>“I think I must have fainted, Dick,” answered +Jeanne, as steadily as she could, for the +thought of Dick’s wound sickened her, and +she was still weak from her swoon. “But I +am all right. How do you feel, brother? +Are you suffering much pain?”</p> + +<p>“It is terrible,” groaned the boy. “It +wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the +jolting.”</p> + +<p>“It must be dreadful,” said Jeanne, with +aching heart. “Let me see if I can’t help +that a little.”</p> + +<p>She crawled close to his side, and seating +herself with the side of the car for a brace, +gently lifted his head and shoulders into her +lap.</p> + +<p>“Is that better?” she asked, as Dick settled +back heavily.</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear; but I am afraid that it will be +hard on you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! It makes me feel so much better +to be able to do something for you. It breaks +my heart to have you suffer. Didn’t those +people do anything for you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span>“The surgeon dressed my wound when +they reached the station. Then they threw +me into this box car. I felt worse because I +didn’t know what had become of you.”</p> + +<p>“Now you must rest,” said Jeanne, holding +him tenderly against her. “We are still together, +Dick. You must sleep if you can.”</p> + +<p>And so through all the long dark night the +girl held her wounded brother, and strove to +break the jolting of the rough car. Her arms +ached from their burden, and her limbs were +numb, but she breathed no word of discomfort.</p> + +<p>Sometimes Dick would fall into a fitful +sleep in which he murmured feverishly and +then he would awake with a start, but Jeanne +was always awake to soothe him and to quiet +his wandering fancy.</p> + +<p>At last the long hours of darkness passed, +as the longest and darkest must, and the sun +rose lightening up even the gloomy box car +with its rays. Pale and wan Dick looked in +the morning light and Jeanne’s heart was +very full as she gazed at him.</p> + +<p>“What would mother say if she could see +him?” she thought. “Oh, if she were only +here to take care of him! But she can’t be +and I must do my best. God help me!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span>About nine o’clock the train slowed down +and presently pulled into a station. After a +long time the doors of the car opened and +some Confederate soldiers appeared.</p> + +<p>“All out for Vicksburg,” called one facetiously.</p> + +<p>“Shut up!” said another. “Don’t you see +that the boy is wounded and the girl doesn’t +look any better than he does.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do with him?” +cried Jeanne in alarm as two of the men lifted +Dick up.</p> + +<p>“Take him to the provost marshal and then +to the hospital. He is our prisoner, you +know.”</p> + +<p>“Then you must take me right along with +him,” said Jeanne, decidedly, rising stiffly. +“I suppose I am a prisoner too.”</p> + +<p>“I rather reckon so,” was the dry reply.</p> + +<p>Jeanne said no more but followed closely +after the man as Dick was carried into the +station. The depot was thronged with soldiers +waiting to go out to the batteries. She obtained +her first glimpse of the “Gibraltar +of the South” as she drove through its streets +by Dick’s side, in an ambulance.</p> + +<p>The city presented a fine appearance situated +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span> +as it was on the wooded summits of the +Walnut Hills. From these elevations the flat +alluvial country around could be seen in every +direction, which with its forests of oaks and +cottonwood interspersed with extensive plantations, +formed a picture of great panoramic +beauty. The main portion of the city lay +near the water front and above it the hills +were crowned with elegant private residences, +and made conspicuous by the high walls of +the public buildings. The court-house, a large +structure of light gray limestone, crowned the +summit of one of the hills and was one of the +first objects to catch the eye. The streets rose +from the river with an abrupt difficult ascent +and were cut through the bluffs and hills directly +to the edge of the levee.</p> + +<p>With something approaching awe Jeanne +gazed at the formidable batteries which had +been erected to dispute the advance of the +Federals. The most of them were near the +lower end of the town as if the greatest danger +were to be apprehended from that point. +One tier was near the top of the bluff, another +about halfway down from the summit to the +water. A single row of water batteries was +located near the brink of the river to repel all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span> +attacks made at close range. The batteries on +the hills causing more trouble to the Unionists +than those lower down as none of the +Federal guns could be elevated sufficiently to +reach them while their shot could be made to +plunge through the decks and disable whatever +boats or vessels came within their range. +As Jeanne gazed on these formidable defenses +she could not but wonder how the transport +had escaped destruction.</p> + +<p>The provost marshal was reached at last and +Dick’s name and regiment were duly registered. +Then the provost turned to Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what to do with you,” he +said. “What were you doing?”</p> + +<p>“Dick and I were trying to reach the Mississippi +River hoping that we might get +home,” said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“Were you carrying anything beyond the +lines?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How came you within our lines?” persisted +the officer, attracted by her youth and +innocence, yet determined to probe the affair +to the bottom.</p> + +<p>“I came from New Orleans,” said Jeanne. +“I was visiting my uncle. When they left +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span> +the city they took me with them but left me +at a deserted plantation. I started back to +New Orleans but fell in with Colonel Peyton’s +camp and he was bringing me to Jackson +where he said that he would send me to our +side. I met Dick and so went with him because +he is my brother.”</p> + +<p>“But what was Dick doing here?” queried +the man. “What business has a Union soldier +in this part of the country?”</p> + +<p>“I was a prisoner,” answered Dick, speaking +for himself. “I had escaped and when I +knew that my sister was in the hands of you +fellows I waited to take her away.”</p> + +<p>And Dick awaited the effect of his bold +declaration anxiously for he was uneasy for +his sister.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what to do with you,” said +the provost again.</p> + +<p>“Let me go with Dick,” pleaded Jeanne +eagerly. “He is wounded as you see, sir, +and needs care and attention. Please let +me go with him. I won’t be a bit of +trouble.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but that that will be the +best way out of the difficulty,” remarked the +officer musingly. “At least until I can investigate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span> +further. What was the name of +your uncle?”</p> + +<p>“Vance, sir. Benjamin Vance.”.</p> + +<p>“Benjamin Vance!” exclaimed the officer +in amazement. “He is well-known in Vicksburg. +Why, he and his wife are here now +visiting relatives. I will send for him at +once.”</p> + +<p>“What!” cried Jeanne. “Uncle Ben +here?”</p> + +<p>“Right here,” responded the other. “Orderly, +will you send word to the La Chaise +manor that I would like Mr. Vance to come +here?”</p> + +<p>The Orderly saluted and left the room. +The provost turned his attention to other +matters while Dick and Jeanne waited with +beating hearts the return of the man.</p> + +<p>In about an hour’s time the Orderly returned +and with him came the well-known +form of Mr. Vance. Behind him, her silken +skirts rustling, her face wreathed in smiles, +her manner full of smirks and graces, walked +Madame Vance.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span><a id='link_25'></a>CHAPTER XXV<br /><span class='h2fs'>MADAME AGAIN</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>You</span> dear child,” cried Madame embracing +Jeanne rapturously. “You cannot imagine +how desolate I have been at losing you. +I was frantic when I learned you were left +behind. We went back for you, but you had +gone. Ma foi! You should have waited for +our return.”</p> + +<p>“Your story being so amiably verified,” +said the provost beaming upon the girl, “I +am happy to say there is no reason why you +should not return to your relatives. I am +charmed to have assisted in reuniting you to +your honored family.”</p> + +<p>“We will never forget it,” said the lady +sweetly. “If we are ever so fortunate as to +have the opportunity to repay the obligation, +rest assured that we will gladly use it. My +sweet child, is this your brother? The Orderly +spoke of him as we came down.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Jeanne hesitatingly. She was +not at all pleased at the turn affairs had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span> +taken, and did not relish the idea of being +once more in the hands of Madame. “Yes, +this is Dick, Uncle Ben. You know that he +bears your name also: Richard Benjamin +Vance.”</p> + +<p>She drew near Dick as she spoke, standing +between Madame and her brother, and addressing +herself to her uncle only.</p> + +<p>“Richard, I am glad to see you,” said Mr. +Vance, seizing the boy’s hand and speaking so +heartily that Dick was bewildered. “A prisoner, +they tell me. Come! this won’t do. +We must have you with us for Clarisse to +take care of. She is a fine nurse!”</p> + +<p>“I do not want to go,” said Dick weakly. +The long wait was beginning to tell upon +him. “After the way that my sister has been +treated I prefer to trust to the mercy of my +enemies than to receive any benefits from +you.”</p> + +<p>“My dear boy, has the little one been +speaking of our differences? There were +some, I believe. She is headstrong and self-willed, +but what would you? I desire to admonish +her for disobedience as a mother +might, and she grieves me by thinking that I +do not love her, but I adore her! You shall +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span> +both come to us, and you shall see for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Vance after a low conversation +with the provost. “I have arranged +with the officer here that you shall come with +us to be taken care of. When you are well, +then you must return to him. Orderly, can +you get some one to assist me in lifting my +nephew to the carriage?”</p> + +<p>So in spite of themselves the brother and +sister were placed in charge of their uncle and +his wife. The carriage bowled rapidly over +the rough streets and at last stopped before a +large residence on the summit of one of the +hills.</p> + +<p>The building was long and low roofed, built +after the Southern fashion with wide halls +and broad galleries running the entire length +of the house. It looked very inviting even +to Jeanne who hovered protectingly over her +brother.</p> + +<p>“She shan’t misuse Dick,” she declared, +over and over again. “She shan’t harm +him.”</p> + +<p>Dick was carried carefully into a large +room and placed in a clean white bed. A +bright fire blazed upon the hearth and its heat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span> +was very welcome after the ride in the chill +November air.</p> + +<p>The boy, exhausted from his suffering and +weak from loss of blood, fainted as they +placed him on the couch and Mr. Vance hurriedly +summoned a physician. Jeanne found +herself pushed to one side while Mr. and +Madame Vance worked over the unconscious +lad, but when she saw that their ministrations +were for his benefit she was content that it +should be so.</p> + +<p>The most unremitting attention and constant +care were what the boy required declared the +physician when he had made an examination. +The long ride in the rough car and exposure +to chill, rendered the best of nursing imperative.</p> + +<p>“If he does not have it he will die,” he +said. “Or if his wound breaks out afresh it +will be fatal.”</p> + +<p>“He shall not die,” cried Madame, with an +adorable air of concern. “I will care for +him myself, doctor. He shall have the best +of care.”</p> + +<p>“I do not doubt it, Madame, with you for +his attendant,” said the physician, gallantly. +“I leave him in good hands.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span>Jeanne saw with gratitude that Madame +Vance did really give the best of care to her +brother, and she gladly forgave the treatment +to which she had been subjected. Occasionally +she even forgot her intention of calling +her aunt “Aunt Clarisse,” and the old +“Cherie,” came to her lips.</p> + +<p>“Ole missus done got huh claws on yer +ergain,” Snowball said to Jeanne one morning. +The negro girl had been enthusiastic in her +greetings. “I wuz moughty sorry ter see yer +kum back ter huh ergain.”</p> + +<p>“I could not help it, Snowball. I know +that she does not like me any better than she +used to, but she is certainly kind to Dick and +he needs that now. Even mother could not +nurse him more tenderly.”</p> + +<p>“She done got sum crotchet in huh haid,” +grumbled Snowball. “Done yer be tuk in, +lill’ missy. She up ter sumthing.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s words filled Jeanne with alarm. +She had sometimes had the same thought, but +when she saw Madame’s devotion to her +brother, she dismissed the idea from her +mind.</p> + +<p>One day she sat by Dick’s bedside alone. +Madame had lain down for a little rest, although +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +the boy was not yet out of danger.</p> + +<p>“Jeanne,” said the weak voice of her +brother presently.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Dick,” and the girl hastened to his +side. “What is it?”</p> + +<p>“I wonder and wonder,” said the boy, in a +far away voice, “why you told me what you +did about Cherie. She is so good, so kind. +The sweetest woman that I ever knew besides +my mother! Why, why did you tell me such +awful things of her, Jeanne? They are not +true.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne was aghast at the question. She +stood, unable to answer, fearing to excite him +by telling the truth and yet unwilling for +him to be under the impression that her story +was false.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” said Dick, weakly. “Why did +you do it? I think of it always. It was not +like you, Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t ask me, Dick,” pleaded Jeanne, +falling on her knees beside him. “Wait until +you are well and then we can talk it over.”</p> + +<p>“You dally,” cried Dick, his eyes bright +with fever. “I see how it is! You fibbed to +me, Jeanne. I know you did.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span>“No, Dick, I did not,” cried Jeanne, heartbroken +at the thought that Dick could believe +such a thing of her. “Listen, and I will tell +you all about it. Snowball can tell you too, +if you do not believe me. But you will be +quiet, Dick, won’t you? You will be very, +very quiet.”</p> + +<p>“You are not taking a very good way to +get your brother well,” exclaimed Madame, +entering abruptly. “I will have to forbid +you the room if you excite him like this. +Can’t you let your tales of me wait until he +is strong enough to bear them?”</p> + +<p>“Are they true?” asked Dick, looking up +at her with eager eyes. “They are not, are +they?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” cried Jeanne, indignantly. “They +are true, Dick! As true as I live! Why +should I tell you a falsehood?”</p> + +<p>“Are they?” and Dick’s eyes lingered on +his aunt’s questioningly.</p> + +<p>“Dear boy,” said Madame, caressing him, +“believe what the little one tells you. Is she +not your sister? Poor Cherie would rather +die than to say aught against her. Think +what you like.”</p> + +<p>“I knew it,” and Dick breathed a sigh of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span> +relief. “I knew that you could not be so +wicked and cruel.”</p> + +<p>“Dick, Dick,” cried his sister passionately. +“You must believe me. It is true. All +that I tell you and more. Oh, Dick, turn +away from that wicked woman! Don’t +let her touch you! I will take care of +you.”</p> + +<p>“I will leave you, Dick, my soldier boy,” +said the lady holding him close to her. +“Your sister can take care of you, as she says. +There! I will go.”</p> + +<p>“No; I want you, Cherie,” and the boy +held her as tightly as his poor weak hands +would allow. “I don’t want Jeanne, I want +you.” Exhausted by the excitement he sank +back unconscious on his pillow.</p> + +<p>Madame’s eyes flashed triumphantly at the +girl.</p> + +<p>“Go,” she said in her honey sweet accents +which to the sensitive ear of the girl were full +of bitterness. “Go, and let me repair the +mischief you have done. Blame yourself if +this proves too much for him. His death will +be upon your shoulders.”</p> + +<p>With white face Jeanne crept from the +room, and lay without the door while her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span> +aunt summoned aid. After a time the lady +joined her.</p> + +<p>“Unhappy girl,” she said, “you have almost +killed your brother. It is due to my +skill alone that he lives. I forbid you to enter +his room again until he is beyond danger. +If you try to see him I cannot answer for the +consequences. Or perhaps you would rather +he would die than to live and to care for me +more than for you. Did you see how he +turned from you to me? How did you like +that?”</p> + +<p>“Aunt Clarisse,” answered Jeanne, every +word of the woman going to her heart like +the stab of a knife, “save him, and I will ask +nothing more. He may love you best<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” +her voice faltered. “Only save him.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to,” said Madame with emphasis. +“Do you want to know why, my +dear? Because I took a fancy to Monsieur +Dick when you used to talk so about him. I +adore a soldier! Had you been a boy I might +have loved you. When the Orderly told us +that you were here with your brother I came +down because I wanted to see him for myself. +I saw him, petite. He is the picture of what +my own boy would have been had he lived. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span> +I would not have come on your account, you +little mudsill! You might have been sent to +Libby prison for all I cared, but I wanted +Dick. I want him for myself. He cares for +me now. By the time he is well he will adore +me. Nay; he will be so fond of me that he +will give up father, mother and even that beloved +Union of which you prate so much because +I wish it. You shall see!”</p> + +<p>“You will do this? Aunt Clarisse, you +cannot. Dick believes in you now, but he +will never love you better than he does +mother. And he never will, no matter how +much he likes you, give up his country.”</p> + +<p>“We shall see,” and the lady laughed unpleasantly. +“You would have said yesterday +that he loved you better, wouldn’t you? Yet +see! to-day he prefers me. He shall yet wear +the gray of my own South.”</p> + +<p>Shaking her finger at the girl with pretended +playfulness she reëntered Dick’s room +leaving Jeanne full of misery.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span><a id='link_26'></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>JEANNE MEETS FRIENDS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>And</span> so, fearful of exciting her brother, +Jeanne refrained from visiting his chamber. +But her heart was heavy and she grew pale +and thin.</p> + +<p>“Dick will not yield,” she said to herself +over and over again. “He has fought for his +country, and no man who has laid down his +life upon his country’s altar could ever betray +her. Why do I fear? He is father’s son.” +But she stopped short as a sudden thought +struck her. “Father’s son,” she whispered, +“yet Uncle Ben is father’s brother. I will not +think! I will wait until he is better, and then +get him to go away.”</p> + +<p>Thus trying to comfort herself she wandered +through the house or stood disconsolately in +the grounds watching the soldiers as they +worked daily at the fortifications. December +passed, and great were the public rejoicings +over Sherman’s defeat in his attack on the +city.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span>“Vicksburg can never be taken,” said Madame +Vance with insolent triumph. “And +so long as Vicksburg stands, stands the Confederacy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it is such folly for them to waste +ammunition in trying to take a city like this,” +spoke Mrs. La Chaise, Madame’s relative. +“Why its defenses and protection are stronger +than any city they have in the United +States.”</p> + +<p>“I thought that Vicksburg was in the +United States,” said Jeanne quickly.</p> + +<p>“It is in the Confederacy,” responded Madame +Vance sharply. “When will you learn, +Jeanne, that the United States is a separate +and distinct country.”</p> + +<p>“Never,” replied the girl. “I think you +will be convinced of your mistake some +time.”</p> + +<p>“When Vicksburg falls perhaps we may,” +interposed Mrs. La Chaise. “I will be willing +to acknowledge it then, won’t you, +Clarisse?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; will you come in and see my boy +this morning, Adele? He is getting on +finely.”</p> + +<p>“I will come too,” said Jeanne determinedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span> +“I think Dick is strong enough to +see me if he can see the rest of the family.”</p> + +<p>“I forbid it,” said Madame sternly. “He +doesn’t care to see you. The sight would be +very unpleasant to him.”</p> + +<p>“The sight of me? His sister!” exclaimed +the girl in amaze. “I do not believe it, Aunt +Clarisse.”</p> + +<p>“You shall not go. He does not need +you.”</p> + +<p>“I will go. I have stayed out quite long +enough,” and Jeanne rose from her seat and +started for Dick’s bedroom. But Madame +was by her side instantly.</p> + +<p>“If you do not do as I tell you, I will lock +you up again,” she said threateningly. “I +think you had a taste of that once.”</p> + +<p>“You dare not,” retorted Jeanne. “These +people would not let you.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, had I been in your aunt’s place I +would have done so long ago,” declared Mrs. +La Chaise who had always disliked the girl. +Jeanne looked appealingly at her uncle but +that gentleman only turned to Mr. La Chaise +with some remark on the war. They were all +against her, and as she gazed into their faces +she realized how helpless she was.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span>“But I want to see my brother,” she cried +bursting into tears.</p> + +<p>“You shall see him when I am ready for +you to if you will be a good girl and obey +me,” said Madame Vance. “I do not choose +that you shall to-day. Now run out in the +yard or take a walk. It will do you good. +Come, Adele, we will go to Dick.”</p> + +<p>With bursting heart Jeanne saw the two +disappear into Dick’s chamber. She sat looking +longingly at the door for some time and +then left the house and started for a walk, unable +to sit still longer.</p> + +<p>One of the hills of Vicksburg was called +the Sky Parlor because of the extensive view +that it commanded and also because it was a +favorite resort of ladies in pleasant weather. +Now, although the wind was cold and chill, +Jeanne bent her steps toward it in the effort +to find some distraction for her mind.</p> + +<p>So intent was she on her own thoughts that +she gazed on the surroundings with eyes that +saw neither the hills nor the great bend of +the river, nor indeed the two persons who +were at a little distance from her. A sigh +escaped her lips as she turned at length to retrace +her steps. In so doing she was brought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span> +face to face with a man and a girl who +were in the act of coming toward her. An +exclamation of surprise burst from the girl’s +lips.</p> + +<p>“Jeanne!”</p> + +<p>“Bob,” cried Jeanne gladly and then +stopped short as the remembrance came to +her that Colonel Peyton had forbidden Bob to +have any communication with her. Seemingly +no such recollection occurred to Bob or, +if it did she ignored it, for she flung herself +upon Jeanne rapturously.</p> + +<p>“You dear thing!” she cried kissing her. +“How in the world did you get here? We +did not know what had become of you, but +father said you had left of your own accord. +Did you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I did, Bob. I went with Dick.” +Tears came to her eyes at thought of him. +“He had waited to take me after his escape.”</p> + +<p>“Is he with you?” asked Bob, quickly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Bob,” she cried, breaking down completely. +“I am in so much trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Are you?” Bob hugged her close. +“Tell me all about it, Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked up and started her story, +but hesitated as she saw Bob’s companion.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span>“Don’t mind him,” said Bob, observing her +look. “He’s a real nice old man who boards +at Aunt Sally’s. We are great friends.”</p> + +<p>“If I am not mistaken, this is a young +lady with whom I am well acquainted,” said +the old gentleman, looking at Jeanne quizzically. +“Aren’t you the little girl who likes +puns?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Huntsworth,” cried Jeanne, in astonishment, +“how did you come here?”</p> + +<p>“After I left you I went to Corinth on +some business,” said Mr. Huntsworth. “To +wind it up satisfactorily I was obliged to come +on to Vicksburg. The good people here got +it into their heads that I was in some sort of +secret work and so detained me. As they +have no proof I am permitted to have my +freedom which is liberty only in a restricted +sense as I am not permitted to leave the city. +However, I am quite comfortable. I am +boarding with this young lady’s aunt, who is +a very fine woman. Very fine, indeed! And +we have some rare times together, eh, Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed we do,” cried Bob, gaily. “And +dad is stationed here, Jeanne, so that while I +am at Aunt Sally’s I see him almost every +day.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span>“How do you live away from your regiment, +Bob?”</p> + +<p>“It was hard at first, but now I don’t mind +it so much. And then I go to see them sometimes. +Aunt Sally was horrified when she +found I had been so long with the soldiers. +See, I don’t wear my uniform any more. But +I expect that if the war lasts much longer I’ll +have to go back to it. Goods are not being +imported very fast into the Confederacy.”</p> + +<p>“You said you were in trouble, my little +friend,” said Mr. Huntsworth, who had been +taking note of Jeanne’s pale face and distressed +air. “Tell us about it. We may be +able to help you.”</p> + +<p>“Will your father care if I talk to you, +Bob?” asked Jeanne, longing to confide +in these friends and yet hesitating to do +so.</p> + +<p>“Dad was sorry after you left that he had +been so unkind to you,” said Bob. “Especially +when he found how good you had been +to send Frank to your home. He regretted +his sternness. So we can be friends all right. +Now tell us all about it.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” and Jeanne told all that had occurred +since she left the regiment and briefly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span> +sketched for Mr. Huntsworth’s benefit the +happenings in New Orleans.</p> + +<p>“My dear,” said the old gentleman, gravely, +when she had finished, “you are indeed in +trouble. I must think it over and see if I +cannot help you.”</p> + +<p>“I think your aunt is just about the meanest +person I ever heard of,” declared Bob. +“I am sorry that she is a Southerner. I +didn’t know that we had any one among us +that could be like that.”</p> + +<p>“She is partly of foreign blood, Bob.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure! That explains everything,” +said Bob. “But what makes your uncle let +her act so?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Jeanne, sadly, “he +seems to have no will but hers. Sometimes I +think that he is afraid of her, and yet why +should a great big man be afraid of a slender +woman?”</p> + +<p>“I have known of such cases,” observed +Mr. Huntsworth. “There may be more in +that than you dream, my dear. We must +think over the matter and see what can be +done. And remember, child, that you have +friends. That you are no longer alone but +that we will help you some way.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span>“Oh,” said Jeanne, brokenly, “it is so +good of you. I felt so forlorn. I thought +that I was forsaken by every one. But I +won’t feel so any more. You are so good<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>” +She burst into a flood of tears.</p> + +<p>“There! there!” Bob comforted her with +endearments while Mr. Huntsworth blew his +nose vigorously. “I know just how you feel, +Jeanne. It nearly killed me when Frank +went over to the Union instead of staying +with his own people. I don’t blame you for +wanting to keep your brother on your side.”</p> + +<p>“You are generous, Bob. I did not sympathize +with you before, but I do now. I don’t +believe that Dick will go, but I am so afraid +of what Aunt Clarisse may do to him if he +doesn’t. No! Dick won’t go. But I must +return. They will wonder what has become +of me.”</p> + +<p>“It is high time all of us were leaving,” +remarked Mr. Huntsworth. “This is rather +a breezy place for a conversation.”</p> + +<p>Still conversing the three slowly descended +the elevation, and then bidding them good-bye +Jeanne returned to the La Chaise residence +feeling more hopeful now that she knew +that Bob and Mr. Huntsworth were in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span> +city. As she entered the grounds Snowball +dodged from behind one of the trees.</p> + +<p>“Lill’ missy,” she said, “go down behind +de smokehouse de fust chance yer git. I’se +got sumpin’ ter tell yer.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Snowball. I will go now,” replied +Jeanne rather startled.</p> + +<p>“Not now, missy. Deys done seen yer +kum in. Go on ter yer room and then slip +down arter yer stays dere awhile.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne followed the girl’s advice, and went +on to the house. Madame Vance looked up +as she entered. She gave a quick glance at +the girl, and something in the latter’s face +caught her attention.</p> + +<p>“You look brighter,” she commented. +“Whom did you see?”</p> + +<p>“Many people, Madame,” replied Jeanne +somewhat shortly.</p> + +<p>“It seems to have helped you then. Did +anything happen?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” returned the girl drearily, her +old look of hopelessness returning for she +feared that Madame suspected something. +“What could happen?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t give me any impudence, Jeanne. I +am not in the mood for it. Go at once to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span> +your room,” commanded her aunt and +Jeanne gladly obeyed.</p> + +<p>As soon as possible she crept softly downstairs +and succeeded in getting out of the +house unobserved by either Madame or Mrs. +La Chaise and ran eagerly to the smokehouse.</p> + +<p>Snowball was waiting for her.</p> + +<p>“Missy,” she said as soon as the girl +reached her side, “hab yer seen yer brudder +lately?”</p> + +<p>“No, Snowball. They won’t let me,” said +Jeanne sadly.</p> + +<p>“Den yer had bettah see him as soon as yer +can, fer dere’s a powerful lot of meanness +gwine on.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” cried Jeanne apprehensively.</p> + +<p>“Ole missus am a tryin’ ter make him leab +Massa Linkum’s ahmy. I heerd Jeff tell +Feliciane dat she was ’suadin’ him awful +ha’d. Den too I heare ole missus tell him +myself dis mohnin’ when dey sent me fer +more wood and didn’t notice pertic’lar dat I +had kum back, ole missus say ter him when +he done axed fer you, ‘I done know what de +mattah wid Jeanne,’ she say. ‘She done seem +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span> +ter kyar ter see yer. I axed her ter kum dis +mohnin’, an’ she say, ‘no, I’m gwine fer a +walk.’ Den yer brudder say bery weak like, +‘I can’t understan’ it. I tought she lubed +me.’”</p> + +<p>“Did he say that?” cried Jeanne. “Oh, +Snowball, what can I do? I must see him. +Won’t you help me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, missy, I will. Eben ef dey kills me +fer it,” declared the girl fervently.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span><a id='link_27'></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>A PRISONER OF WAR</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>But</span> what can we do, Snowball?” asked +Jeanne her voice trembling with emotion. +“How can I see him?”</p> + +<p>“De missus takes a nap ebery day,” said +the darky. “An’ sumtimes she calls me ter +set in de room s’posin’ Massa Dick want anything. +Sumtimes she tells Feliciane ter do it. +We’ll jest wait tell she tells me ter do it, an’ +den I’ll let yer in. We’ll hab ter watch sha’p +elsen she’ll ketch us.”</p> + +<p>“We will,” said Jeanne. “I would not care +for myself, but I would not like to get you +into trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Nebber you mind me, lill’ missy. You’se +been moughty good ter me, an’ I’ll stan’ anything +ter help yer see yer brudder.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Snowball,” and Jeanne’s eyes +filled with tears at this evidence of affection. +“When I can I am going to help you to get +back to your mother. I will never forget +what you are doing for me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span>“Dat’s all right, missy. Jest you wait tell I +does sumthin’ an’ den talk. Time nuff den! +Now I mus’ run back. Done want missus ter +know dat I hab been talkin’ ter yer.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go a different way, and she won’t suspect +us,” said Jeanne and the two separated.</p> + +<p>Two days, full of anxiety to Jeanne, passed +before Snowball was called to attend Dick. +Waiting only until she heard the door of +Madame’s chamber click, the darky sped to +Jeanne’s room and called her.</p> + +<p>“Nuffin’ couldn’t a happened bettah,” she +said. “Missus Adele, she’s gone ter town; +an’ tuk Feliciane with huh. Jeff’s gwine +huntin’ wid marster an’ Mistah La Chaise. I +ain’t afeerd ob de res’ ob de niggas. Kum +now, missy, an’ yer’ll hab a right smaht while +wid yer brudder.”</p> + +<p>Jeanne started up eagerly and ran down the +stairs to Dick’s chamber. Her brother was +lying fully dressed on a couch with his back +toward her. He did not turn at her entrance +and before she had time to address him, Snowball +darted through the door.</p> + +<p>“Foh de land sake, missy, git outen heah +quick,” she whispered. “Ole missus am a +kumin’ back.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span>Her terror communicated itself to Jeanne +and the girl stopped stock still in the middle +of the floor. The click, click of Madame’s +shoes could be heard distinctly in the hall. +To go out would be to meet her, and for the +nonce the spirit of the girl quailed. Glancing +quickly about her the heavily curtained window +caught her eye and she sprang toward it. +It was but the work of a moment to ensconce +herself behind its voluminous folds. Scarcely +had she done so when Madame entered.</p> + +<p>“I thought I heard some one,” she said +suspiciously. “Have you been attending to +Master Dick, Snowball?”</p> + +<p>“Does yer want anyting now, Massa Dick?” +asked Snowball going to the lad’s side, gladly +ignoring the lady’s first remark.</p> + +<p>“Give me a drink, please,” said Dick +weakly.</p> + +<p>“I will give it to him myself,” said Madame. +“You may leave the room, Snowball. +Master Dick and I want to have a little +talk all by ourselves.”</p> + +<p>“Yes’m,” acquiesced Snowball, but she +lingered loth to leave Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“At once,” commanded Madame sharply. +“Why do you loiter when I tell you to go?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span>“Yes’m; I’m a-gwine now,” and the girl +left the room reluctantly.</p> + +<p>“You feel much better, do you not, my +boy?” and the lady stroked the lad’s hair +gently.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“So well that we can have our little talk +again? We will not be interrupted to-day as +we were yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“If you wish,” and it seemed to Jeanne +that Dick spoke with great weariness. “But +of what use is it? You have your views and +I have mine. Why not let the subject drop +when we cannot agree?”</p> + +<p>“Because the old adage has it, ‘That constant +dropping will wear away the hardest +stone.’ By keeping continually at you I shall +finally succeed in overcoming your scruples, +and get your signature to the oath of allegiance +to the Confederacy.”</p> + +<p>“Never!” exclaimed Dick with so much +resolution that his sister’s heart swelled with +thankfulness and pride. “Though you were +to talk to me forever you could not change +my principles.”</p> + +<p>“Listen to me, Dick.” Madame spoke in +her sweetest tones. “You are but a boy. You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span> +cannot know which side is right in this war +when great men have differed upon the matter. +I have heard you say that you honored +Robert E. Lee. That he was a noble man, a +great general, and one of the finest gentlemen +that you ever met. Think you that such a +man would embrace our cause if he did not +believe himself right?”</p> + +<p>“I do not,” answered Dick at once. “There +are many men on the side of the South who +believe themselves to be in the right. But +they are none the less mistaken for all +that.”</p> + +<p>“And you set up your feeble judgment +against them?” cried Madame, a trace of anger +in her voice. “It is presumption.”</p> + +<p>Dick did not reply. Presently Madame +spoke again, and Jeanne noted that her tones +were once more caressingly soft.</p> + +<p>“Dick, I have spoken to you of my own +son, have I not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“He was so much like you. When I used +to hear Jeanne talk of you I knew that you +were what my boy would have been. When +I saw you my heart yearned over you, for you +were the image of him. Had he lived he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span> +would have fought to defend our South from +the rank invaders.”</p> + +<p>“I do not doubt it,” spoke the boy gently.</p> + +<p>“Think how desolate I am,” went on the +lady quick to note the lad’s sympathy for her. +“I have no one, Dick. Be my boy, I will be +so proud of you. You would be our heir, and +have all the property. I have influence too, +and it should be used to advance you quickly +to a high rank. You should be a general, my +boy. The handsomest and youngest in the +service. Think what I can give you. And +all just to sign one little paper! Why do you +hesitate? Why throw away such advantages +for the sake of a mere notion? Come, sign +it.”</p> + +<p>Dick was silent so long that Jeanne became +alarmed and she pushed back the curtain and +looked at the pair anxiously. Madame Vance +was holding a paper before the boy pleadingly, +while Dick was regarding it with a +look of indifference.</p> + +<p>“You will, my beautiful boy. You will, I +know. You cannot refuse a mother’s prayer. +Oh, I know that you will not refuse me.”</p> + +<p>“But I do,” said Dick who showed signs +that the interview was taxing his strength +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span> +to the utmost. “I will die before I sign that +paper.”</p> + +<p>“You refuse?” cried Madame, losing control +of herself. “Then hear me, Richard +Vance. You shall not thwart me in my purpose. +You shall sign that paper. I am +stronger than you, and I say that you shall +do it.”</p> + +<p>She seized the lad’s hand and tried to force +a pen into it. Dick struggled feebly. With +a bound Jeanne was by his side, all her fear +of the woman gone in the menace to her +brother.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing here, Jeanne Vance?” +cried Madame starting back at sight of the +girl. “How came you here?”</p> + +<p>“I wanted to see my brother,” answered +Jeanne, throwing her arms about him protectingly. +“Have you no heart, no feeling, +that you would take advantage of his weakness?”</p> + +<p>“I am not so weak that she could make me +sign that paper,” cried Dick, his pale face and +shaking hands belying his assertion.</p> + +<p>“We shall see,” cried Madame threateningly. +“He shall sign it before you, my little +Yankee.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span>Jeanne watched her opportunity as her aunt +tried to push her aside, and snatched the +paper from her hand.</p> + +<p>“There!” she cried as she tore it into +shreds. “There, Aunt Clarisse! He cannot +sign it now.”</p> + +<p>“How dare you?” cried Madame, stamping +her foot. “I will have you whipped.”</p> + +<p>But as she started to call the servants a +sharp peal of the door bell rang through the +house. Instantly a most remarkable transformation +took place in the lady. Her rage disappeared +as if by magic, and, as one of the +darkies opened the door to announce. “Colonel +Peyton,” she presented a serene and +smiling countenance to the gentleman.</p> + +<p>“Colonel Peyton,” she exclaimed, sweeping +forward gracefully, “this is indeed an honor. +To what good fortune am I indebted for such +a favor?”</p> + +<p>“The exigencies of war, Madame,” answered +the Colonel, bowing over her hand +with courtly grace. “I am accompanied by +some of my men. May I ask that they be +permitted to enter?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” assented Madame sweetly, but +there was a trace of uneasiness in her manner.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span>Into the room filed a squad of soldiers and +with them, Jeanne could scarcely repress a +cry of joy at sight of him, came Mr. Huntsworth.</p> + +<p>“Madame,” said Colonel Peyton, pulling a +paper from his pocket. “General Pemberton +has sent a written order for a young man–a +Federal prisoner–who was put in your +charge to be taken care of until he should +have recovered from his wound. As some +time has elapsed he is convinced that he has +sufficiently recovered to be turned over to us. +I have come to take him and also the young +girl who accompanied him. They are prisoners +of war, you understand.”</p> + +<p>Madame Vance bowed but her eyes glittered +balefully.</p> + +<p>“The girl is here, take her,” she said. +“But the boy–ah, mon Colonel, you must +not take him yet. He is not able to go. Besides, +let me but have him a short time longer +and who knows but that a full fledged Confederate +may be the result? He is not able +to go. Leave him with me, Colonel, I beseech +you. I will see the General myself.”</p> + +<p>“No; take him,” interposed Jeanne who +feared that the Colonel might succumb to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311'></a>311</span> +lady’s blandishments. “She wants to force +him to her wish, and you don’t want such +soldiers, Colonel Peyton.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Colonel sternly. “We +want no recruits made in such a manner, +Madame Vance. Men, take your prisoner.”</p> + +<p>“Minx,” shrieked Madame, flying at Jeanne +in a passion. “Is it thus you repay my +kindness? Oh, I could kill you!”</p> + +<p>“She is our prisoner,” said Colonel Peyton +stepping before her. “You must not touch +the girl, Madame.”</p> + +<p>“I will report this indignity,” cried +Madame. “I will see General Pemberton. I +do not lack influence, sir. You shall repent +this.”</p> + +<p>“As you like, Madame.” The Colonel +bowed gravely and, like the brave soldier +that he was, remained with the lady while +the men carried Dick out, followed by Jeanne +and Mr. Huntsworth who had his arm around +the girl protectingly.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried the girl as they proceeded +down the hill away from the place. “I am +so glad that you came when you did. I fear +that I could not have held out much +longer.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312'></a>312</span>“Tell us what happened,” suggested Mr. +Huntsworth, and Jeanne did so.</p> + +<p>“I think I never saw such a tiger cat,” remarked +the old gentleman when she had +finished. “There was a time there when I +thought that she was going to tear you to +pieces. I fear that you are not through with +her, my little friend.”</p> + +<p>“I will see General Pemberton,” declared +Colonel Peyton, “and prepare him for Madame’s +onslaught. Meantime, I have his permission +for you and your brother to stay +at sister Sally’s until your brother fully +recovers. But he is not at liberty, Jeanne, because +he is a prisoner, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know,” said Jeanne, “and I will +not say a word against it. Better a prisoner +of the Confederates than to be in the hands +of such a woman. There will at least be +some chance to exchange him. You don’t dislike +me any more, do you, Colonel Peyton? You +won’t care if Bob and I are friends, will you?”</p> + +<p>“No; you poor child! I have been sorry +that I was so unkind to you. After all I was +glad that you girls saved Frank. It would +have broken my heart had he been shot. +Ah!<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313'></a>313</span>There was a rushing, whizzing sound and a +huge mortar shell passed over them, and, +burying itself in the side of the hill beyond, +exploded with a great report.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” cried Jeanne affrightedly +clinging to Mr. Huntsworth.</p> + +<p>“The Federals have begun to shell the +city,” said the Colonel calmly. “Their fleet +has been gathering for several days. We +have been expecting it.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314'></a>314</span><a id='link_28'></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SIEGE BEGINS</span></h2> + +<p>“<span class='sc'>Then</span> we are safe, safe,” cried Jeanne, forgetful +of the presence of the soldiers. “Oh, +Mr. Huntsworth, the Federals will soon have +the city!”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, my little +lady,” remarked Colonel Peyton dryly. +“Vicksburg is impregnable, and I fear that it +will be a waste of ammunition on the part of +the Federals.”</p> + +<p>“I did not mean to be impolite, Colonel,” +said the girl contritely. “It wasn’t very nice +of me to make such a remark. I should +be sorry for you if our men did take the city.”</p> + +<p>“You are a good little girl,” said Colonel +Peyton warmly. “I like a generous hearted +foe.”</p> + +<p>“You must be careful not to express your +feelings too openly,” advised Mr. Huntsworth +in a low tone. “These people are rebels but +they are going to be our hosts and the Colonel +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315'></a>315</span> +has certainly interested himself in your +behalf.”</p> + +<p>“He has,” said Jeanne gratefully, “and +I will be careful not to offend them.”</p> + +<p>Bob, rather pale and agitated on account of +the shells, met them at the door.</p> + +<p>“Dad, what will we do if they shell the +city?” she cried before greeting Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“I reckon we can’t do anything,” drawled +the Colonel. “I thought you were a soldier, +Bob? Soldiers don’t mind a few shells.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose not,” and Bob strove to regain +her composure. “So you got Jeanne and her +brother? Come in and tell me what else +that woman has done. Here is Aunt Sally! +Aunty, this is Jeanne and her brother, Dick +Vance. They’re Yankees but they are real +nice anyway.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to see you, my dear,” said +the lady, kissing Jeanne. “Any friend of +Bob’s is welcome be she Yankee or Confederate. +And this is your brother? How pale +he is! We must get him right to bed.”</p> + +<p>She bustled about Dick in a motherly +fashion, her sympathies fully enlisted on his +behalf by his illness. Dick was in truth +much exhausted by his journey and sank into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316'></a>316</span> +slumber as soon as his head touched the +pillow. Jeanne sat by him and told Bob and +her aunt how Madame had tried to make him +sign the paper.</p> + +<p>“Rest and quiet are what he needs,” observed +Mr. Huntsworth. “He will come out +of this all right, I think, now that he is removed +from your aunt’s ministrations. What +a creature she is! She reminds me of the +middle ages. Vindictive, passionate and cruel +beyond measure as were the women of those +times!”</p> + +<p>The slow shelling of Vicksburg went on. +The people gradually became indifferent and +resumed their daily avocations. General +Pemberton issued an order for all non-combatants +to leave the city, but Bob and her +aunt refused to pay any heed to it.</p> + +<p>“Where could we go?” asked Bob when +her father tried to combat her decision to +stay. “You say the country is overrun with +soldiers, and where is there a place safer than +Vicksburg? The Yankees can never take +it!”</p> + +<p>“No; they cannot,” returned the Colonel. +“I don’t know but that you are right, Bob. +I will have a cave dug in the hill back of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317'></a>317</span> +house to-morrow, and you can retire to it +when the shelling becomes too bad.”</p> + +<p>And so it was arranged. Men began work +the next day and soon dug a cave in the hillside +back of them. Cave residence had become +quite the thing since the shelling of the +city had begun, and the hillsides were so +honey-combed with excavations that the +streets looked like avenues in a cemetery.</p> + +<p>Bob and Jeanne settled themselves into a +happy and quiet existence. They sewed in +the morning and sometimes took excursions +to Sky Parlor Hill to view the Federal fleet +that lay on the river, and to look through a +glass at the Federal encampment near the +head of the abandoned canal. Rumors were +rife in the city of the advance of the Federal +troops. One night heavy cannonading was +heard for an hour or two, ceasing and then +commencing again early in the morning. All +day the noise continued. That night the sky +in the South was crimsoned by the light of a +large fire.</p> + +<p>The lurid glare fell in red and amber light +upon the houses, lighting up the white magnolias, +paling the pink crape myrtles, and +bringing out in bright distinctness the railing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318'></a>318</span> +of the terraces where drooped in fragrant +wreaths the clustering passion vine. The +next day the news came that the little village +of Warrenton had been burned by shells +thrown from the boats. Then followed the +tidings that a battle was going on between +the Federal troops and General Pemberton’s +forces at Black River. And so the days +passed full of rumors and excitement.</p> + +<p>The seventeenth of May dawned, and +Vicksburg was thrilled to the centre by the +news of a battle and the tidings that the Confederates +were beaten. Soon the streets were +filled with bands of tired, worn-looking soldiers. +Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, footsore +and bloody the men limped along unarmed +but followed by siege guns, ambulances, gun +carriages and wagons in aimless confusion. +At twilight the bands began to play “Dixie,” +“The Bonnie Blue Flag,” and other martial +airs on the court-house hill to rally the scattered +army.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Huntsworth,” said Jeanne as they +were for a few moments out of ear-shot of +the lamenting Bob. “I heard a man say that +the Yankees would be here before long. Do +you think it can be true?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319'></a>319</span>“I don’t know, child. Let us hope so,” +was the answer.</p> + +<p>But the day passed and no Yankees made +their appearance and the citizens settled once +more into a semblance of quiet. But from that +time the regular siege of Vicksburg began. +Utterly cut off from the world and surrounded +by a circle of fire, the fiery shower +of shells went on day and night. Regular occupations +were discontinued, and people did +nothing but eat what they could get, sleep +when they could and dodge the shells.</p> + +<p>For some time Aunt Sally, Bob, Dick, +Jeanne and Mr. Huntsworth, and the servants +had been living in the commodious cave +prepared for them. The girls no longer +sewed or walked about. They were content +if they could keep out of range of the shells. +Once every day some one of them ran the +gauntlet of shells to buy the meat and milk. +Mule meat was the staple article of diet, but +this Bob and Jeanne utterly refused to touch +and confined themselves to rice and milk.</p> + +<p>“It is not at all bad,” declared Mr. Huntsworth +as he sat at the door of the cave one +evening a piece of the meat in his hand. +“Come here, girls, and let me show you the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320'></a>320</span> +difference in the shells. There goes a Parrott. +That’s a mortar shell that curls so beautifully +down yon hillside. This”–as he dodged +back into the cave to escape one–“is a rifle +shell.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see what difference it makes,” +said Bob retreating to the back of the cave, +“what kind of a shell it is if it kills you. +Do you, Jeanne?”</p> + +<p>“I think not,” answered Jeanne tremblingly. +“What a fearful thing war is! +Oh!”</p> + +<p>A shell fell just without the mouth of the +cavern like a flame of fire, making the earth +tremble, and with a low, singing sound the +fragments sped on in their work of death.</p> + +<p>“We seem to be within range this evening,” +said Mr. Huntsworth as he came to where the +trembling girls crouched.</p> + +<p>Shell after shell followed each other in +quick succession, and our little party stood +without speaking, awaiting the sudden death +that seemed almost certain. Jeanne’s heart +stood still as she heard the reports from the +guns and the rushing fearful sound as the +shells came toward them. As the shells +neared the cave the noise became more deafening; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321'></a>321</span> +the air was full of the rushing sound; +pains darted through her temples; her ears +were full of the confusing noise; and, as one +would explode, the report flashed through +her head like an electric shock, leaving her +in a state of terror, painful to be imagined.</p> + +<p>The rest of the occupants of the cavern +were not much better off. After this paroxysm +of fear passed they strove for composure +only to be again overcome as the fusillade was +repeated.</p> + +<p>Morning found them more dead than alive, +with blanched faces and trembling lips, but +as the time passed and they were still preserved, +although the shells came as fast as +ever, they took courage and at last regained a +measure of calmness.</p> + +<p>There was not much mental rest for the people +of Vicksburg, and added to Jeanne’s apprehensions +for their safety was the anxiety over +Dick. The lad had grown as strong as was +possible considering the scarcity of nourishing +food and, as the shelling grew worse, a sort of +restlessness seized upon him and he would +stand without the entrance of the cave careless +of the shells falling about him, watching +their progress intently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322'></a>322</span>“I am afraid that he will be killed,” said +Jeanne tearfully to Bob. “Why does he do +it, Bob?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Huntsworth says that it is because he +is a soldier,” said Bob.</p> + +<p>“I wish I could take him home. I must +as soon as possible,” said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>Bob looked at her wonderingly. It was a +surprise to her how Jeanne still kept the +hope of getting home, and ignored the fact +that she and Dick were prisoners. Opening +her lips she was about to reply when the unmistakable +whirring of a shell told her that +the battery which they feared the most had +turned their guns upon their hill. Running +to the entrance she called Dick and the servants +in. They had just obeyed her summons +when a Parrott shell came whirring in +at the entrance and fell in the centre of the +cave before them all, lying there smoking.</p> + +<p>Terrified they fastened their eyes upon it. +Their fate seemed certain. For one moment +they remained thus, and then Dick rushed +forward, seized the shell and threw it into the +street, regaining the cave just as the shell +exploded.</p> + +<p>“Dick,” cried Jeanne running to him, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323'></a>323</span> +“oh, how brave you are! But what if you +had been killed!”</p> + +<p>“It’s time I was throwing them,” said +Dick emphatically. “I ought to have been +at the other end of them long ago.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but what if you had been killed,” +sobbed Jeanne. “What would mother say?”</p> + +<p>“That I had but done my duty,” answered +the lad.</p> + +<p>“He is right,” said Mr. Huntsworth. +“Besides had he not been so brave not only +he but all the rest of us would have been +killed also. Let us give thanks for our +wonderful escape.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324'></a>324</span><a id='link_29'></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>MADAME FOR THE LAST TIME</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Since</span> leaving the La Chaises’ Jeanne had +seen nothing of her uncle and aunt, so she +supposed that they had withdrawn from the +city when General Pemberton had issued the +order for the non-combatants to leave. One +afternoon amid the rush and explosion of the +shells, cries and screams arose–the screams of +women amid the shrieks of the falling shells. +Their curiosity getting the better of their +timidity, Jeanne and Bob resolved to find out +what was the matter.</p> + +<p>“Then I will go too,” said Dick, “if you +are resolved upon going, but I think it is +foolhardy.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s go,” cried Bob. “I am so tired of +this damp, ill-smelling, earthy home that I +almost think I would welcome death as a +change. Let’s go.”</p> + +<p>The three started forth, dodging the shells +as they walked. Presently they came to a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325'></a>325</span> +cave in a side hill around which a number of +people were gathered.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” asked Dick of a +man.</p> + +<p>“It’s the cave of the Vances and the La +Chaises,” was the answer. “Some shells +struck the ground above and it caved in burying +them. We don’t know whether they are +dead or alive.”</p> + +<p>With an exclamation of horror Dick darted +forward.</p> + +<p>“A spade,” he cried. “A spade, or a pick, +or a shovel! Anything that will dig! Why +do you stand here, men?”</p> + +<p>“We can’t work with the shells flying +around us,” growled a man.</p> + +<p>“You are not any more likely to be hit +while working than you are standing still,” +cried the boy. “Get something quick!”</p> + +<p>Moved by his earnestness the men obtained +picks, shovels, spades, and anything that +would move the dirt, and in spite of the flying +shells began to dig out the unfortunate +persons. Pale as death Jeanne stood by, +clinging to Bob, unwilling to leave the spot +until she could learn their condition. Her +resentment toward her uncle and aunt was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326'></a>326</span> +overcome by the great catastrophe that had +overtaken them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vance was found first. He was quite +dead, as were also Mr. and Mrs. La Chaise. +Madame Vance was alive but had sustained +mortal injuries so that her death was but a +question of a few moments. Her eyes lighted +up when they fell upon Dick.</p> + +<p>“My boy,” she cried feebly, “you did like +me, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed I did, Cherie,” and Dick took the +poor crushed form into his arms.</p> + +<p>“I knew it,” she whispered looking at +him lovingly. “Forgive me, Dick, that I +used you so. I wanted you to think as I +did.”</p> + +<p>“It is all forgiven,” said the boy tenderly. +“Here is Jeanne, Cherie. Have you no word +for her?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Madame. “I never liked her. +She was a child, but she took you from me, +my boy.</p> + +<p>“There is the property,” said Madame suddenly +to Jeanne. “That Yankee General +seized it in your name and declared that he +should hold it for you. It was to pay us for +putting it in your name. It is yours, but I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327'></a>327</span> +want Dick to have it. Will you give it to +him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Jeanne her tender heart +very full of sympathy for her aunt’s sufferings. +“I will do whatever you desire, dear +Cherie.”</p> + +<p>“Then give him the property and leave me +with him. I don’t want to die. It is so cold. +So cold! Where are you, Dick?”</p> + +<p>“Here,” and Dick held her tenderly.</p> + +<p>“It is getting dark. My boy,–ah!” a +gasp and all was over.</p> + +<p>That night as the moon shed its softening +rays over the besieged city, a little cortege +consisting of Mr. Huntsworth, Dick, Aunt +Sally, Jeanne, Bob and a few servants came +forth from the cave to perform the last sad +rites for all that remained of Mr. Vance, +Madame and their relatives.</p> + +<p>Even in the softening light of the moon +the blighting hand of warfare was visible +over the town. The closed and desolate +houses, the gardens with gates half open in +which were the loveliest flowers and verdure! +The carelessness of appearance and evident +haste of departure was visible everywhere, +the inhabitants feeling only anxiety for their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328'></a>328</span> +personal safety and the strength of their cave +homes.</p> + +<p>The guns were still and peace for a time +reigned over the troubled city. The stars +shone coldly down upon them, twinkling as +brightly as though no great strife was being +waged beneath them.</p> + +<p>Jeanne’s tears were falling fast as she +walked back by Dick’s side in the cool fresh +air of the morning.</p> + +<p>“Dick,” she whispered, detaining him +as the others entered the cave, “you +don’t harbor any bitterness toward me, do +you?”</p> + +<p>“Toward you, Jeanne? No;” and Dick +folded her in a close embrace. “Why did you +think so?”</p> + +<p>“You have been so still, so quiet since +Aunt Clarisse died that I feared that you +thought me to blame in some way.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, sister. I have been thinking of +Cherie, and of what a mixture she was of +tenderness and vindictiveness. I thought once +that I should never forgive her for turning +me against you, and for trying to wean me +from my country.”</p> + +<p>“But you do forgive her, don’t you, Dick? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329'></a>329</span> +She is dead now and can never harm us any +more.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I forgave her when she was lying +there in my arms,” said Dick. “But I will +never forget how good you have been, Jeanne. +You stood by me as no sister ever stood by a +brother before. Why, had it not been for you +I might have been made to sign that paper.”</p> + +<p>“I do not believe that you ever would,” +cried Jeanne.</p> + +<p>“And you saved me,” and Dick kissed her +tenderly. “How proud father and mother +will be of you, Jeanne.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think that we shall ever see them +again?” asked the girl mournfully.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do,” said Dick positively. “I feel +sure that the city will be taken soon. It cannot +hold out much longer. The soldiers have +only pea soup to live on now, and men can’t +fight on a diet like that. Oh, if I were only +in it!” and the boy looked wistfully over at +the Federal fleet as it lay on the broad bosom +of the river. “My place is there, and yet +here I am mewed up like a girl! If ever I +do get out I’ll pepper the rebs for this.”</p> + +<p>“If the Federals take the city you will soon +be free,” comforted Jeanne.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330'></a>330</span>“Come, you must go to your rest,” said +Dick. “Isn’t it fine the way we are giving it +to them, Jeanne? I just stand and watch +those shells in wonder. General Grant has +worked for months for this and now the end +is near.”</p> + +<p>“What makes you so positive, Dick?”</p> + +<p>“Yesterday there were some people who +tried to pass out,” answered the boy. “They +sent a flag of truce to the Federals asking permission +to enter their lines, and Grant sent +back word to stay quietly in the city as he +would be in possession the Fourth of July. +And he will, Jeanne. Mark my words, if +Grant says so, he will be here.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Dick,” and Jeanne clapped her hands +for joy.</p> + +<p>“Hush! not a word,” said Dick. “I am +sorry for these people. They are nice folks, +and Bob will never get over it. But of course +we just had to win.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder where Snowball is,” mused +Jeanne, as she retired.</p> + +<p>The morning brought the answer. As the +shelling was resumed with more frequency +than ever for the delay, a number of negroes +rushed into the cave.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331'></a>331</span>“We ’longs ter yer now,” said Snowball +acting as spokesman for the others. “Hyar’s +me, an’ Jeff, an’ Feliciane, lill’ missy. Missus +Adele’s niggas done gone ter her folks, an’ we +reckoned we ’longed ter yer an’ Massa Dick.”</p> + +<p>“To me?” exclaimed Jeanne bewildered. +“Why, what in the world will I do with you +all?”</p> + +<p>“Dunno. Yer’ll hab ter take keer ob us, I +reckon,” and Snowball seated herself on the +floor in happy unconsciousness of the fact that +taking care of them implied any responsibility. +“You won’t whip us nohow. Will yer, +lill’ missy?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly won’t do that,” answered +Jeanne, “but it will be a problem to feed +you.”</p> + +<p>And so it proved. Supplies were running +very low in the city. Starvation stared the +inhabitants in the face. And yet, despite the +privations and the constant play of artillery +and musketry through every minute of the +day, when Minie balls were accompanied by +Parrott, Canister, solid shot and shrapnel +shells, and projectiles of all kinds, the soldiers +became almost indifferent to them, and frequently +sang amid the pattering of the balls.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332'></a>332</span>One evening as they sat in front of the cave +a young officer passed them singing words to +the air of the “Mocking Bird.” He seemed +more concerned about the melody than he did +about the shots that were flying through the +air, and they watched him admiringly.</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p> “‘’Twas at the siege of Vicksburg,</p> +<p> Of Vicksburg, of Vicksburg,</p> +<p> ’Twas at the siege of Vicksburg,</p> +<p>When the Parrott shells were whistling thro’ the air.</p> +<p> Listen to the Parrott shells,</p> +<p> Listen to the Parrott shells;</p> +<p>The Parrott shells are whistling thro’ the air.</p> +<p> </p> +<p> “‘Oh! well will we remember,</p> +<p> Remember, remember,</p> +<p> Tough mule meat June sans November,</p> +<p>And the Minie balls that whistled thro’ the air</p> +<p> Listen to the Minie balls,</p> +<p> Listen to the Minie balls;</p> +<p>The Minie balls are singing in the air.’”</p> +</div> + +<p>“Jeanne,” said Bob, “do you hear that? +Do you think you have any Yankees that are +as brave as our people?”</p> + +<p>“As brave perhaps,” replied Jeanne, “but +no braver, Bob. I think no people could be +more courageous than your people have shown +themselves through this siege. I am proud +of them as Americans, but I am sorry that +their courage is shown for such a cause.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333'></a>333</span> “Ah, we’ll win yet,” said Bob, her eyes +shining, “and then we will show you that we +can be as generous as we are brave.”</p> + +<p>And the days passed by.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334'></a>334</span><a id='link_30'></a>CHAPTER XXX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE END OF THE SIEGE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>It</span> was the morning of the Fourth of July. +Jeanne awoke from a deep sleep. Generally +about four o’clock the shrapnel shells were +thrown more furiously than at any other time +of the day. She listened for a few moments +and then turned to Bob excitedly.</p> + +<p>“Bob, Bob,” she cried, “wake up. The +shells have stopped falling.”</p> + +<p>“What!” cried Bob, awake instantly. +“Are you sure? Why it is true! How +quiet it is! What can be the matter?”</p> + +<p>The girls began to dress hurriedly and then +went outside the cave to learn the cause of the +cessation of the firing. People everywhere +were running out of their caves to find the +reason. A painful calm prevailed, and so +long had the constant firing been kept up +that the stillness was actually oppressive.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” asked Bob as an +old gray-headed soldier passed on the hillside +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335'></a>335</span> +near the cave. Stopping and touching his +cap the man replied:</p> + +<p>“It’s all over. The white flag floats from +our forts. Vicksburg has surrendered!”</p> + +<p>With a cry that Jeanne never forgot Bob +turned and passed into the cave. A feeling +of gladness and thankfulness welled up into +Jeanne’s heart, succeeded by a great wave of +pity for these people who had fought so long +and well.</p> + +<p>“Bob,” she called, softly, following after +the girl and putting her arms about her, +“Bob, don’t grieve so.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” cried Bob, throwing her off passionately. +“You’re glad! You know you +are.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Bob. Just as you would be if your +side had won, but dear, dear Bob, I am sorry +for you and for your brave people who have +fought so well.”</p> + +<p>“If they cheer, I’ll hate them,” said Bob +fiercely. “Oh, Jeanne, Jeanne, my heart is +broken!”</p> + +<p>Jeanne’s own tears were falling fast, and +Bob seeing that she did not triumph over her +let her head fall upon her shoulder and thus +Colonel Peyton found them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336'></a>336</span>His face was very pale and he seemed bent +and broken. He took his daughter into his +arms but he was more in need of comfort +than capable of giving it.</p> + +<p>“It is the beginning of the end,” he said +brokenly. “When Vicksburg falls it is but +the beginning of the end of the Confederacy. +Our cause is doomed. We are fighting for a +forlorn hope. Oh, my country, my country!”</p> + +<p>He bowed his head upon his daughter’s and +the great tears fell fast.</p> + +<p>Jeanne stole from the cave and met Dick +coming for her.</p> + +<p>“See!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Those +are Federal soldiers, Jeanne. We are in the +United States once more. Look at the Court House Hill! +What do you see?”</p> + +<p>“The Stars and Stripes,” cried Jeanne, +tears of gladness rolling down her cheeks. +“Oh, Dick, how good it is to see our own flag +once more!”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it? I could shout and sing for joy +if it were not for these poor fellows who have +fought and starved so long. It is a hard +thing to be on the losing side.”</p> + +<p>“True, for you, my boy,” said Colonel Peyton +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337'></a>337</span> +joining them with Bob on his arm. “We +are fortunate in having so chivalrous a foe. +There have been but few cheers and no exultation +over our poor unsuccessful fellows. +Not a jeer, nor a taunt from a Federal soldier.”</p> + +<p>“And the river flows on as calmly as ever, +and the sun still shines, yet Vicksburg has +fallen,” said Bob bitterly.</p> + +<p>“Bear up, daughter. A soldier must learn +to accept defeat as heroically as victory,” said +her father. “Look, what a grand sight it is +to see those transports round the bend. See +how serenely they draw up in the very teeth +of those grim batteries that were dealing death +but yesterday. Now they are silent, and +their Conqueror comes boldly to their very +sides.”</p> + +<p>“What are all those people running down +there for?” asked Bob. “Surely they are +not welcoming their victors!”</p> + +<p>“Bread, daughter. The Federal transports +are full of supplies which are brought for the +starving people. It is a magnanimous foe!”</p> + +<p>“Transports,” cried Jeanne eagerly. “I +wonder–where is Snowball?’”</p> + +<p>“Hyar, missy,” cried the girl, running forward. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338'></a>338</span> +“Oh, missy, Massa Linkum’s men +done say we all’s free. Dat Fader Abe done +set us niggas free way long las’ Jan’wry.”</p> + +<p>“It may be so,” cried Jeanne delightedly. +“I don’t know, but come and let us see if the +transport that your mother is on is down +there.”</p> + +<p>With a howl of delight Snowball went +scampering down the hill toward the boats, +Jeanne following after her. The Gem City +lay at anchor close to the shore. Captain +Leathers was dealing out supplies to the +starving people that surrounded the boat.</p> + +<p>“Captain Leathers,” cried Jeanne breathlessly +as they reached his side.</p> + +<p>“Why, bless my heart, if it isn’t my little +friend,” cried the Captain in surprise. “What +are you doing here? Yes; Tenny’s right +there on deck.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you all about it just as soon as I +see Tenny,” said Jeanne smiling at him +brightly. “Come, Snowball.”</p> + +<p>She ran quickly to where old Tenny stood. +“Tenny,” she cried, “look here!”</p> + +<p>The old woman turned and catching sight +of Snowball gave a shriek of joy.</p> + +<p>“It’s my babby,” she screamed. “Kum +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339'></a>339</span> +hyar ter yer mammy, yer bressed chile! +Kum dis bery minnit!”</p> + +<p>Laughing and crying she caught the girl to +her capacious bosom.</p> + +<p>“It’s the lill’ missy dat bringed me,” cried +Snowball. “Oh, mammy, dey says we’s free!”</p> + +<p>“’Course we is, honey chile. Whar you been +dat you didn’t know dat? Massa Linkum +done say dat long ago. Whar you been?”</p> + +<p>“Hyar in Vicksburg. Whar you bin, +mammy?”</p> + +<p>“Eberywhar, chile. Ef I hadn’t er cooked +fer de sojers dey couldn’t a tuk de city. Cap’n +Leathers say so. But hyar we is. Not mindin’ +our manners an’ a thankin’ de lill’ missy fer +brungin’ yer ter me.”</p> + +<p>But with the first word of thanks Jeanne +darted away. She stopped for a moment to +talk to the Captain and explain her presence +in the city, and then went back to the cave +where Dick awaited her.</p> + +<p>“Come,” said the boy. “General Grant is +expected in the city soon. The Confederates +are coming from the camp to be registered +and paroled.”</p> + +<p>“When can we go home, Dick?” asked the +girl as they passed into the streets again.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340'></a>340</span>“Any time now, Jeanne. I want to see +the General about sending a message to +father. How quiet it seems after the bombardment! +Restful, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“It’s heavenly,” sighed Jeanne contentedly. +“I am so happy, Dick, and the silence enfolds +me like a garment. To think that I +will really see father and mother once more! +It has been a year lacking a few days since I +saw them. How little I thought that so +much would happen before I should see them +again. How anxious they must be! But +now! a few more days and I shall be with +them.”</p> + +<p>“There comes General Grant,” said Dick +suddenly.</p> + +<p>A glittering cavalcade of Federals and +rebel officers at full gallop came down the +Jackson road from the camp without. In the +midst of the throng there appeared a man, +small in stature, heavily set, a broad face +covered with sandy beard, habited in a plain +blue uniform of flannel with two stars of a +major-general upon his shoulders. His face +was impassive but there was the faintest +gleam of satisfaction in his cold gray +eyes.</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341'></a>341</span>“‘Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,</p> +<p>He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;</p> +<p>He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword:</p> +<p>His truth is marching on!’”</p> +</div> + +<p>sang a low voice beside them. “Children, +this is a glorious day.” Mr. Huntsworth’s +voice was tremulous with emotion and his +eyes were misty. “It is a sad spectacle to see +brave men humiliated and humbled, but +aside from my sympathy for the Southerners +it makes my old heart beat with joy to be +under the Stars and Stripes once more. Let +us greet the General.”</p> + +<p>He stepped forward briskly. General +Grant stopped his horse as they approached.</p> + +<p>“We want to give you welcome, sir,” said +Mr. Huntsworth extending his hand. “We +are Unionists released only by your successful +siege from ‘durance vile.’ Welcome, sir, +welcome!”</p> + +<p>“You must have found our shells pretty +warm,” said Grant shaking his hands. “How +did you live?”</p> + +<p>“Sir,” replied the old gentleman whimsically, +“you made us like the Southerners’ +favorite bread: dodgers.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342'></a>342</span>Grant smiled, and then asked. “And are +these Federals too?”</p> + +<p>“One is a soldier, the other a–what shall +I call you, Jeanne? A blockade runner or +what?”</p> + +<p>“I am a Union girl,” said Jeanne smiling +into the gray eyes above her. “A Union girl +longing for home.”</p> + +<p>“Where is your home?” asked Grant. +“Suppose you three come along with me and +tell me the whole story.”</p> + +<p>They did as he requested. The man of +iron will heard them silently. Then he +spoke.</p> + +<p>“Get your dispatches ready,” he said. “I +will send them with mine to Washington and +then have them forwarded. You will take +your sister home of course.”</p> + +<p>“I ought to get back to my regiment as +quick as I can, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! I will write your General +concerning it. If you have been in ever +since the war opened it’s high time you had a +furlough. I will stand responsible. You +shall all start to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>It was a sad leave taking for Bob and +Jeanne.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343'></a>343</span>“I will see you again,” said Jeanne tearfully +as she told Bob good-bye. “Something +tells me that we will meet again. And when +the war is over, Bob, we will have fine times +together. Where do you go from here?”</p> + +<p>“To Richmond,” answered Bob drearily. +“You’re not leaving us much territory, +Jeanne. We are being narrowed down. I +fear, I fear<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>With a burst of tears she ran from them +and it was many a long day before Jeanne +saw her again. With saddened hearts they +left the city of terraces behind them, and at +last Jeanne was en route for home.</p> + +<p>Home! One of the sweetest words in the +English language. The brilliant verdure of +the Southland receded from view, and the +more sober vegetation of the Northland came +in sight. To Jeanne’s longing eyes it had +never appeared more beautiful. As they +boarded a train they heard the newsboys +crying–“Victory at Gettysburg! Grand +victory at Gettysburg! Paper, sir? Paper?”</p> + +<p>“Here!” called Dick and Mr. Huntsworth +in one breath, and they were soon emersed in +the details of the fight at Gettysburg.</p> + +<p>“It’s the turning point of the war,” said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344'></a>344</span> +Mr. Huntsworth. “It cannot be long surely +before Lee will surrender.”</p> + +<p>“It would seem so,” cried Dick with exultation. +“But who can withstand us? We +have freed the negroes! We have taken +New Orleans, Vicksburg, the mighty, has +fallen, and Lee’s army defeated in his invasion +of free soil. Hurrah!</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“‘In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,</p> +<p>With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:</p> +<p>As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free,</p> +<p>While God is marching on!’”</p> +</div> + +<p>he broke out boyishly. Mr. Huntsworth +joined in and soon another and another took +up the terrible Battle Hymn of the Republic +until it rolled in one grand volume above the +rush of the train.</p> + +<p>“Jeanne, there’s father,” cried Dick as the +train drew in at the Cincinnati station.</p> + +<p>The girl looked out to see both Mr. and +Mrs. Vance standing on the platform watching +the outcoming people eagerly.</p> + +<p>With a cry of thankfulness she darted forward +and flung herself into her mother’s arms.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 32993-h.txt or 32993-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/9/9/32993">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/9/9/32993</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/32993.txt b/32993.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..224f6f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/32993.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8053 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Daughter of the Union, by Lucy Foster +Madison + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Daughter of the Union + + +Author: Lucy Foster Madison + + + +Release Date: June 27, 2010 [eBook #32993] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.fadedpage.net) + + + +A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION + +by + +LUCY FOSTER MADISON + +Author of "A Colonial Maid," Etc. + + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers . . New York +By arrangement with The Penn Publishing Co. + +Copyright 1903 by The Penn Publishing Company + +Manufactured in the U. S. A. + + + + +Contents + + Chapter Page + I WHAT GIRLS CAN DO 5 + II A GREAT AWAKENING 20 + III STARTING FOR DIXIE 31 + IV A TIMELY RENEWAL OF ACQUAINTANCE 41 + V CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS 53 + VI IN DIXIE LAND 70 + VII THE EXAMPLE OF A GIRL 83 + VIII THROUGH SHOT AND SHELL 95 + IX JEANNE MEETS THE HERO OF NEW ORLEANS 104 + X AN UNFORESEEN RESULT 117 + XI CLEARED OF SUSPICION 128 + XII AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 137 + XIII UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT 147 + XIV A VICTIM OF DECEIT 158 + XV BEFORE GENERAL BUTLER AGAIN 168 + XVI THE VELVET GLOVE CONCEALS THE IRON HAND 178 + XVII AGAIN DECEIVED 189 + XVIII IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP 200 + XIX "BOB" 212 + XX THE ARREST OF A SPY 225 + XXI A SURPRISE AND AN ESCAPE 237 + XXII DICK TO THE FORE 250 + XXIII RECAPTURE 259 + XXIV VICKSBURG 272 + XXV MADAME AGAIN 280 + XXVI JEANNE MEETS FRIENDS 290 + XXVII A PRISONER OF WAR 302 + XXVIII THE SIEGE BEGINS 314 + XXIX MADAME FOR THE LAST TIME 324 + XXX THE END OF THE SIEGE 334 + + + + +A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WHAT GIRLS CAN DO + + +"That finishes everything," exclaimed Jeanne Vance, placing a neatly +folded handkerchief in a basket. "And oh, girls, what a little bit of a +pile it makes!" + +The five girls drew their chairs closer to the basket and gazed ruefully +at its contents. + +"How many handkerchiefs are there, Jeanne?" asked one. + +"There are fifty handkerchiefs and five pairs of socks. It seemed like a +great many when we took them to make, but what do they amount to after +all?" + +"There isn't much that girls can do anyway," spoke another. "If we were +boys we could go to the war, or, if we were women we could be nurses. I +don't like being just a girl!" + +"Well, I wouldn't mind it so much if there was anything I could do," +remarked Jeanne who seemed to be the leader. "But when Dick is in the +army, father in government service, and mother at work all day in the +Relief Association, it is pretty hard not to be able to do anything but +hem handkerchiefs and make socks." + +"A great many persons don't even do that," said Nellie Drew, the youngest +girl of the party. "And they are grown-up people, too." + +"Then the more shame to them," cried Jeanne indignantly. "In such a +war as ours every man, woman and child in the United States ought to be +interested. I don't see how any one can help being so. For my part, I +am going to do all that I can for the soldiers if it is only to hem +handkerchiefs." + +"What else could we do? We can't help being girls, and Miss Thornton was +pleased when we asked for more work. She said that our last socks were +done as well as women could do them. I am sure that that is something." + +"That is true," admitted Jeanne soberly. "I have heard mother say that +some of the things were so poorly made that the ladies were ashamed +to send them to the front, but that often the need was so urgent that +they were compelled to do it. I am willing to knit socks and to hem +handkerchiefs, but I would like to do something else too. There is so +much to be done that I don't feel as if I were doing all that I might do." + +"We don't either, Jeanne, and if you know of anything we will gladly help +to do it," cried the girls together. + +"I don't know of anything else, girls, but maybe I can think of +something," said Jeanne, looking at the earnest faces before her. + +It was a bright May afternoon in the year of 1862, and the great conflict +between the North and the South was waging fiercely. The terrible battle +of Shiloh of the month before had dispelled some of the illusions of +the North and the people were awakening to the fact that a few victories +were not sufficient to overthrow the Confederacy. + +Aid societies under the United States Sanitary Commission for the relief +of the soldiers were springing up all over the Union, and patriotism +glowed brightly inflaming the hearts of rich and poor alike. This zeal +was not confined to the old but animated the minds of the young as well. +Numerous instances are recorded of little girls who had not yet attained +their tenth year denying themselves the luxuries and toys they had long +desired and toiling with a patience and perseverance wholly foreign to +childish nature, to procure or to make something of value for their +country's defenders. + +Our group of girls was only one among many banded together for the purpose +of doing whatever they could for the relief of the boys in blue, and +their young hearts were overwhelmed with a sense of their impotence. +Jeanne Vance, a tall, slender, fair-haired girl of sixteen, serious and +thoughtful beyond her years, was the leader in every patriotic enterprise +of her associates. + +Her father since the beginning of the war had devoted himself exclusively +to furthering the interests of the government; her mother was a prominent +worker in The Woman's Central Relief Association, giving her whole time +to collecting supplies and money to be forwarded to the front and +providing work for the wives, mothers and daughters of the soldiers. +Her brother, Richard Vance, had responded to the first call of President +Lincoln to arms: thus the girl was surrounded by influences that filled +her being to the utmost with intense loyalty to the Union. + +As she looked at the eagerly waiting girls around her a sudden inspiration +came to her. + +"Let's give a fair, girls. We could make pretty things to sell and I am +willing that all my toys and games shall be sold too. Perhaps we could +get a great deal of money that way, and I am sure that even a little would +be welcome." + +"But how about the socks and handkerchiefs? Shall we give up making them?" + +"No, indeed! We must keep right on with those, but this fair will be all +our own effort. I believe that we will feel as if we were really doing +something worth while if we can manage it. What do you say?" + +"It is the very thing," cried they. "When shall we begin?" + +"This afternoon," said Jeanne energetically. "There is no time like the +present. This is May. We ought to be ready by the last of June. We can +do a great deal in that time if we work hard." + +"And we can get our mothers to help us too," suggested Nellie Drew. + +"We ought not to do that, Nellie," replied Jeanne seriously. "They are +so busy themselves, and it would not be truly ours if we have the older +ones to help. Don't you think we ought to do just the very best we can +without them?" + +"Oh, yes, yes!" chorused the girls. + +"I can make pretty pin cushions," said a girl about Jeanne's age. "I will +make as many of them as I can." + +"I can do pen wipers very nicely, mamma says," spoke Nellie modestly. + +"Mother always lets me help dress the dolls for Christmas," cried another. + +"Where will we have it, Jeanne?" + +Jeanne looked puzzled for a moment. "I'll tell you, girls. Let's have it +on our steps. We'll have a big card telling all about it printed and put +up. Then people will stop and buy things when they know it is for the +soldiers." + +"On your steps," cried Nellie. "Oh, Jeanne, will your mother let you? It +is right on Fifth Avenue." + +"Why, mother won't care!" answered Jeanne, surprised at the question. +"Fifth Avenue is the best place in New York for anything of the sort, +because so many well-to-do people pass, and they will be sure to be +generous for the soldiers' sake." + +"Mercy, Jeanne, where did you learn so much about things?" gasped Nellie +in admiration. "I wouldn't have thought of that." + +"Well," said Jeanne, flushing at the praise, "I hear mother and the ladies +talking, you know. They say that such things must always be taken into +consideration. If you have anything to sell, or you want money, you must +go where there is money to be had. I know the ladies do that in their +fairs." + +"Then of course that is the way to do," remarked a tall girl decidedly. +"Let's take our handkerchiefs and socks to the Relief rooms and begin +right away." + +The girls set to work joyfully, and labored zealously for their fair. +Their parents were amused at their earnestness, but seeing them happy and +contented encouraged them in their efforts. The days were busy ones, +but the knowledge that every boat and train was bringing hundreds of +wounded soldiers into the hospitals from the disastrous Yorktown campaign +spurred them to greater exertion, until at last they declared themselves +ready to open the sale. + +Handkerchiefs, aprons, homemade candies, dolls, with all the paraphernalia +belonging to them, pin cushions, pen wipers, and books, presented a +goodly appearance as they were spread enticingly upon the steps of the +mansion in lower Fifth Avenue. A large card, which Mr. Vance had had +printed for them with the inscription, "For the relief of our wounded +and sick soldiers. Please buy," reared its head imposingly over the +articles, and five little maids, neatly dressed, stood in expectant +attitude eagerly watching each passer-by in the hope of a customer. + +The placard caught the eyes of an elderly man, and the little girls could +scarcely conceal their delight as he paused before them. + +"Well, my little ladies, what have we here?" he asked kindly. "For the +soldiers, eh? Who put you up to this?" + +"No one, sir," answered Jeanne as the other girls shrank back abashed. +"We are doing it ourselves to help buy things for the boys." + +"But who made the articles?" queried the old gentleman. "I am a poor judge +of such things, but these handkerchiefs seem to be very neatly done. They +are not of your making, I presume." + +"Indeed they are," answered the girl earnestly. "We have done all the +sewing, and made the candies. The toys were our own, given to us by our +parents, but we would rather have the money to give to the soldiers, so +they are for sale too. We girls have made everything but the toys and +the books." + +"But why," persisted he good-naturedly. "The government provides for its +soldiers, and there are women and men to do what the government doesn't +do. Why should you interest yourselves in such things? The war doesn't +concern you!" + +"Whatever concerns our country concerns us," answered Jeanne with dignity. +"We are only girls, sir, and cannot do much, but what we can do to help +those who are fighting for us we will do." + +"Nobly said, my little maid. I was anxious to see if this was a mere whim +of the moment, or if you really were actuated by patriotic motives. You +have taught me that girls can feel for their country as well as grown +people. How much are those handkerchiefs?" + +"A dollar a dozen, sir." + +"H'm'm!" mused the old gentleman drawing forth a well filled pocketbook. +"Too cheap by far. Give me a couple of dozen." + +Jeanne obeyed with alacrity and carefully wrapped the handkerchiefs +in tissue paper. "I can't change this bill, sir," she said as the old +gentleman gave her a twenty dollar note. + +"I don't want you to, my little girl," returned he kindly. "Take it for +the cause." + +"Oh," cried Jeanne her eyes filling with glad tears. "How good you are! +How good you are!" + +"Nonsense! It's a pity if I cannot give a little money when you girls have +given so much time and work. Good-day, my little patriots. Success to you +in your undertaking. You may see me again." + +"Good-day, sir," cried the girls together. "And thank you ever so much." + +"Oh, girls," gasped Jeanne delightedly. "Isn't it fine? Twenty dollars! I +didn't think we'd make more than that altogether." + +"Here come more customers, Jeanne," cried Nellie excitedly. "Oh, but I +believe that we are going to have luck!" + +It was but the beginning. There was little leisure for the girls after +that. Their evident zeal and earnestness impressed the passers-by whose +hearts were already aglow with sympathy for the soldiers, and bills and +shinplasters poured in upon the little merchants until at dusk not an +article remained upon the steps. Then, tired but happy, they assembled +in Mrs. Vance's parlor to count the proceeds. + +"Two hundred dollars!" exclaimed Mr. Vance as the girls announced the +result in excited tones. "Why, girls, this is wonderful! The government +would better turn over its finances into your hands." + +"You blessed dears," cried Mrs. Vance, "it will do so much good! You +don't know how much that will buy, but you shall go with the committee +and see for yourselves." + +"We have done well," said Jeanne in congratulatory tones. + +"I don't believe that grown people could do any better," and Nellie Drew +gave her head a proud toss. + +"There's a little lame boy asking to see Miss Jeanne, ma'am," announced +a servant entering at this moment. "Shall I show him up?" + +"Yes, Susan. Who is it, Jeanne?" + +"It must be Eddie Farrell. He lives down on Fourth Avenue. His mother +washes for Nellie's mother, and they are awfully poor. He came by while +we were fixing our things and we told him all about what we were doing +and why we were doing it. How do you do, Eddie?" as the door opened to +admit the visitor. + +A little fellow not over ten years old, with great blue eyes that were +just now alight with eagerness, paused abruptly as he caught sight of +Mr. and Mrs. Vance. He made a pathetic looking figure as he stood in the +doorway. He was deplorably lame and leaned on a pair of rude crutches +for support, balancing in some way known only to himself, a long bundle +under his arm. + +"Have a chair, my boy," said Mr. Vance, kindly noticing his embarrassment. +"Did you wish to see Jeanne?" + +"Yes, sir." The boy sat down and then opened his bundle disclosing a pair +of well made crutches. "The girls told me what they wuz doing fer the +sogers and I've been thinking ever since what I could do. I didn't have +no money ner nuffin' ter give 'cepting these crutches. I thought mebbe +they'd do some pore feller some good what 'ud have his leg cut off." + +"But where did you get them?" queried Mr. Vance. + +"They wuz mine, sir. Bill, a sailor man I knows, he spliced on some pieces +to make 'em longer, and there they are, sir." + +"My lad," and Mr. Vance laid his hand softly on the boy's head, "it is a +great deal for you to give. You need them yourself." + +"I'll get along all right," said the boy eagerly. "'Deed I will, Mr. +Vance. See, Bill he rigged me up a pair that'll do me all right, an' +I'd like ter help some pore feller." + +Mr. Vance gazed pityingly at the rude substitutes which the boy held up, +and then looked at the crutches so deftly lengthened. His voice was husky +as he spoke: + +"It is a great gift. More than you should give." + +"It ain't nuthin'," answered the lad. "I feel fer the feller that is born +with two good legs an' then loses one of them." + +Mr. Vance nodded understandingly. Mrs. Vance's eyes were full to +overflowing as she stroked the boy's hair gently. + +"We'll write a little note and tie on the crutches," she said. "Then +whoever gets them will know who gave them." + +"That will be fine," cried the lad gleefully. "I'm so glad you'll take +them. I wuz afraid mebbe it wouldn't be enough ter give." + +"It is more than we have done," said Jeanne as soon as she was able to +speak. + +"Then good-bye," and Eddie arose. "I'll run back and tell mother." He +nodded to them and left the room, his face aglow with satisfaction. + +"We haven't done anything," said Jeanne emphatically. "We didn't give a +thing we could not do without. Oh, I feel so mean!" + +She looked at the girls tearfully, then drew a slender chain from her +throat, and detached the gold piece which was suspended from it. "There!" +she said, putting it with the bills on the table. "Uncle Joe gave me that +before he went to the army. After he was killed at Shiloh I thought I +would never part with it, but I am going to let it go for the soldiers +too." + +"It is good for us," said Nellie wiping her eyes. "We were awfully puffed +up over this fair. I was beginning to think that we had done something +great." + +Mr. Vance laughed. + +"You need not feel so bad, girls," he said. "If it had not been for you +that poor little fellow wouldn't have thought of giving his crutches." + +"I wish he had some though," remarked Jeanne wistfully. + +"Make your mind easy on that score, my dear, I'm going to look after that +boy." + +"And meantime you girls can go with me to the Association to carry the +money and the crutches, and we'll tell the ladies all about it," said Mrs. +Vance. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A GREAT UNDERTAKING + + +For a time affairs went on in their usual way, and the girls contented +themselves with hemming towels and handkerchiefs and making socks. That +is, all the girls save Jeanne Vance. With her the desire was stronger than +ever to do something more than she had done. + +"What makes you so thoughtful, Jeanne?" asked her father one evening +looking up from his paper. "You are as still as a mouse. Come, and tell me +all about it." + +"It's the country," said Jeanne settling herself comfortably on his lap +and laying her head on his shoulder. "I was thinking about our army and +how much there was to be done for it." + +"I am afraid that you think too much about the war," observed her father +soberly. "It is not good for you." + +"I can't help it, father. Dick's letters make me, and the work that you +and mother do keeps it always before me. I am the only one who doesn't do +much." + +"I am sure that you carried that fair through admirably, and have made +a number of articles for the soldiers. Best of all you are looking after +yourself so well that your mother and I can devote our whole time to the +cause. And that is a great deal, my little girl." + +"But I should like to do something else," persisted Jeanne. "It doesn't +seem as if I were helping one bit." + +"Very few of us can see the result of our labors. If you were in the +army it would be the same way. A soldier often has to obey orders for +which he can see no reason, but his disobedience might cause the loss +of a battle. We are all of us part of a great whole striving for the +same end. If each one does his part all will be well. If every little +girl in the country would do as much as you are doing, the amount of +work accomplished would be startling." + +"If I were a boy I could do more," sighed Jeanne. "It is very hard to be +'only a girl,' father." + +Mr. Vance laughed. + +"But since you are one, Jeanne, try to be contented. I am very thankful +for my daughter if she is 'only a girl.'" + +"You are troubled too," observed Jeanne presently, noting a look of +anxiety on her father's face. + +"Yes, child; I am." + +"Could you tell me about it, father? Perhaps it would help you. I feel +ever so much better since I have talked with you." + +"I am afraid that you cannot help me, child. If only Dick were here," and +he sighed. + +"Could I if I were a boy?" asked the girl, wistfully. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Vance unthinkingly. "If you were a boy, Jeanne, with +the same amount of brightness and common sense that you now have, I would +be strongly tempted to send you forth on some private business." + +"Oh, father!" Jeanne sat bolt upright. "Send me anyway. I am sure that I +could do it just as well as a boy." + +"But this would necessitate a journey into the enemy's country. A bright +boy could go through all right if he would exercise his wits, but a +tender, delicate girl like you! Why, I couldn't think of it!" + +"I could do just as well as a boy," declared Jeanne with conviction. "I +am sure that I could. Please let me try, father." + +"I am sorry that I spoke of it, child. I will tell you just what the +service is, and you will see the impossibility of any girl undertaking +it. In the cities both North and South there are men whose duty it is +to look after certain private matters for the government. In our +communications with each other we must be very guarded. We do not dare +to risk even the mails, because in almost every department of the +service there are traitors. In some mysterious manner the enemy becomes +aware of all our plans. Therefore we have tried and trusted men who are +our go betweens. On some occasions we have employed boys because they +could pass through the lines of the armies without being suspected of +carrying important information. But as it is a hazardous business we use +the boys only when there is no one else to send. Just at present our +men are all out, and even the few boys who are ordinarily available are +not on hand. That is why I spoke as I did." + +"Where would the boy have to go?" queried Jeanne, who had listened +attentively. + +"To New Orleans, dear. It is a long distance, and would be a perilous +journey. You see, Jeanne, how I am trusting you. You will be careful not +to repeat anything I say." + +"I understand perfectly, father. You need not fear when you tell me +anything. You could not be useful if others knew of your affairs." + +"That is it precisely, my daughter." + +"Is the errand important, father?" + +"Very." Mr. Vance thought she saw the impossibility of going and therefore +spoke more freely than he otherwise would have done. "I ought to send a +messenger not later than day after to-morrow with the documents, but I +fear that I shall have to let the matter rest until some of the men come +in, and then it may be too late." + +"Father, doesn't Uncle Ben live in New Orleans?" + +"Yes, Jeanne; why?" + +"Why couldn't I go down to see him, and carry these papers hidden about +me? The trains are still running, aren't they?" + +"Yes," said her father thoughtfully; "but those in the Southern States +are under Confederate control, you know." + +"Well, suppose I were to take the train from here to St. Louis," mapping +the route on her lap, "then from there I could go down the Mississippi +on a steamboat. St. Louis is for the Union, and New Orleans belongs to us +now too. I don't see much danger in that, father." + +"It sounds all right, little girl. The only flaw lies in the fact that +Vicksburg is not ours. If it were then the matter could be easily +arranged." + +"Don't you think that it will be ours soon, father?" + +"Yes, indeed," replied Mr. Vance with conviction. "With Farragut and +Porter on the river and this new man Grant who is making such a record +in charge of the land forces it will not be long before Vicksburg will +share the fate of Forts Henry and Donelson and Island No. 10. Indeed," +added he, for Mr. Vance in common with many others held the view that +the war could not be of long duration, "I feel sure that McClellan will +soon enter Richmond and that will virtually close the war. It is only a +question of days now before we shall see the end of this rebellion. The +administration is of the same opinion, because it has ceased to enlist +men for the army." + +"Then, father, it seems to me that there would be no risk in performing +this service for you. I feel sure that I could carry your papers safely +to New Orleans. It is not as if the country all belonged to the rebels. +There would be only one place to pass that is theirs: Vicksburg. I know +that our men can easily go by one place," she added confidently. + +"Your manner of taking hold of the matter almost persuades me to let you +try it, Jeanne," and Mr. Vance regarded his daughter with a new light in +his eyes. + +"Do," said Jeanne as calmly as she could, realizing that if she would +carry her point she must be very matter-of-fact. "You see, father, no +one would suspect a girl of carrying papers." + +"I don't know but that you are right, Jeanne. Still, I would not consider +the thing for an instant if my need were not so great. Should the papers +fall into the rebels' hands, not only would they secure important +information but they would also get the names of men whose death would +pay the penalty of discovery." + +"I understand," said the girl gravely. "But the rebels shall never get +them, father. I will destroy them first. They must be concealed about my +clothing in such a manner that even if I were searched they could not be +discovered. Not that I think that I shall be," she added hastily as a look +of alarm flitted over her father's face, "but it is just as well to be +prepared for emergencies." + +"What are you two plotting?" asked Mrs. Vance entering the room. "You +have been talking so earnestly that I thought that you were settling the +affairs of the nation." + +"We have been," answered Jeanne gaily. "I am going to New Orleans on +business for father." + +"Oh, Richard," came from Mrs. Vance in a wailing cry. "Not my girl too! +I have given my boy! Leave me my daughter." + +"Mother!" Jeanne sprang to her outstretched arms where she was folded +close to the mother's heart. "You don't understand. There is no danger. +Who would harm a girl like me?" + +"She shall not go, Dora, if you do not consent," spoke Mr. Vance +comfortingly. "My need for a messenger was so urgent that I spoke of +it before Jeanne, and the little witch has beguiled me into thinking that +she is the very one for the business." + +"Why of course I am," cried Jeanne in decided tones. "Let's sit down and +talk it over." + +"I don't like it," said Mrs. Vance after the matter had been explained. +"I am afraid that something will happen to you." + +"But, mother, what could happen? Even if I were to fall into the hands of +the Confederates what could they do to me? Men don't make war on girls." + +"I know that the Southern people are counted chivalrous," answered Mrs. +Vance, "but soldiers are usually rough fellows, and I would not like you +to be brought into contact with them even though they were our own boys." + +"Dick is a soldier, and he isn't a bit rough. They are all somebody's +sons, mother. I thought that you liked soldiers." + +"I do," assented Mrs. Vance wearily, "but I don't like the thought of +sending you where there is a chance of fighting. No one knows what might +happen." + +"Dick has to take a great many chances, and why should not I risk a little +for my country? Wouldn't you be willing to give your life for it, mother?" + +"Yes; but----" began the mother. + +"And I am your child," cried Jeanne, kissing her. "I can't help it, +mother. It's in the blood, and blood will tell, you know. Haven't I heard +you and father many a time relate what great things our ancestors did +in the Revolution? Well, you really can't expect anything else from +their descendants." + +"I suppose not," and Mrs. Vance stifled a sigh. "If it really would help +you, Richard." + +"It really would, Dora. If Jeanne can carry these papers to New Orleans +she is not only worth her weight in gold but she will do the government +a great service. She is energetic, resourceful and self-reliant. I +believe that she can get through without injury to herself or I should +not consider the thing a moment. As she says, why should harm come to +a girl? She would not be suspected where older people would be subjected +to the most searching scrutiny. The more that I think of it, the more +favorably does the idea strike me." + +"Then I must consent," Mrs. Vance smiled faintly though her face was very +white. "My country demands much of me, Richard." + +"It does, Dora. But please God when this rebellion is put down we shall +have such peace as the country has never enjoyed. Let us hope for the +best, dear." + +"When do I start, father?" broke in Jeanne. + +"I think to-morrow night. The sooner the better. I will see about your +transportation in the morning, and try to arrange to send you straight +through. Now, little girl, you must say good-night because we must be up +bright and early. There is a great deal to be done to-morrow." + +"Good-night," said Jeanne obediently, and kissing each tenderly she +retired to her room. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +STARTING FOR DIXIE + + +The next day passed all too quickly for the parents, but not for Jeanne. +She went about her preparations with an uplifted mien and a solemnity of +manner that at another time would have been amusing, but which under the +circumstances went to her mother's heart. + +"In this petticoat, dear, I have quilted the documents," said Mrs. Vance +as she dressed her for her departure. "It may be a little heavy, but +you need not wear so many skirts as you otherwise would, and perhaps it +will not be too warm. See how nicely it holds out your dress. It almost +answers the purpose of a pair of hoops." + +"Am I not to wear my hoops, mother?" + +"No, child. They are sometimes in the way, and as you have not yet learned +to manage them well, it would be best not. Your frock hangs out in quite +the approved style as it is." + +Jeanne glanced down at her attire complacently. + +"It does look stylish," she admitted. "I wonder if the rebel girls wear +hoops." + +"I dare say they do," answered the mother rather absently. Then overcome +by a rush of emotion she caught the girl to her. "Oh, Jeanne, I wonder +if I am doing right to let you go! What if some harm should come to you?" + +"Don't worry, mother," and Jeanne soothed her gently. "I feel sure that I +will get through safely." + +"I shall not be easy until I hold you in my arms again," said Mrs. Vance +mournfully. "But I must not make it hard for you to go, dear. You will +be careful, Jeanne." + +"Yes, mother." + +"And, child, you are loyal, I know, but you are very young. You are going +into the enemy's country, where disloyalty to the Union will be the +common utterance. Are you strong enough to bear all that you will hear and +still retain that fidelity unimpaired?" + +"Mother!" Jeanne spoke reproachfully. + +"Yes; I know that your heart is devoted to your country, but older ones +than you have been drawn from their allegiance. I only give this as a +caution because you have always been where nothing but the Union has been +talked. Now you are apt to hear just as much on the other side, and there +may be trials that will test your strength severely. I cannot but fear +that all will not go so smoothly as your father thinks. But, Jeanne, +whatever comes, bear yourself as a true American. Swerve not from the +allegiance due to your country. Let come what will, even death itself, +suffer it rather than for one moment to be false to your country. They +are my last words to you, my daughter. Be true to your country. Will you +remember?" + +"Yes," replied the girl solemnly. "Whatever comes I will be true to my +country." + +"I have made you this flag," continued Mrs. Vance, drawing a small United +States flag from the folds of her dress. "I began it some time ago as +a surprise for your birthday, but finished it last night for you to take +with you. Keep it about your person, and each night look upon it and pray +for the success of the Union." + +"And it is really my own," exclaimed Jeanne, delightedly, pressing the +silken folds to her lips. "It makes me so happy to have it, mother. I +never had one before that was all mine. See," folding it and placing it in +the bosom of her dress, "I will wear it over my heart that no disloyal +thought may find entrance there. I will bring it back to you unsullied." + +Her mother pressed her again to her breast. + +"I believe it, dear. Now kiss me, Jeanne. I hear your father coming for +you. Oh, 'tis hard to let you go!" She clasped her convulsively to her, +and caressed her repeatedly. + +"Are you ready, Jeanne?" asked Mr. Vance entering. "We have not much time +left." + +"I am all ready, father," answered Jeanne quickly catching up her satchel. +"Aren't you coming with us, mother?" + +"No, dear;" Mrs. Vance struggled bravely with her emotion. "I am going +to let your father have you for the last few moments alone. I have had you +all day, you know." + +Jeanne ran back to her for another embrace. + +"My child! My child!" whispered the mother passionately. "There! Go while +I can bear it." + +Unable to speak Jeanne followed her father to the carriage. + +"I am afraid that I have acted hastily in letting you undertake this +matter," said her father, drawing her to him. "In one way the fates are +propitious. The papers to-day announce the fall of Vicksburg. That leaves +the Mississippi entirely open and reduces the danger. Still it may be +exposing you to some risk, and it now seems to me unwise to saddle so +great a responsibility upon so young a girl. I wish there was some one +else to send." + +"Father, I am glad to be of service. I am so proud to think that you have +so trusted me. Now I am really doing something for the country. And I will +not betray your trust." + +"I know that you will be as true as steel," answered Mr. Vance tenderly. +"I do not fear that you will betray my confidence, but let me caution you +for yourself. Where have you concealed the papers?" + +"Mother quilted them in my petticoat," answered Jeanne. + +"Then try to forget where they are. I was once on the train where a girl +was traveling alone. She had evidently been warned against pickpockets, +for ever and anon she would start up and clap her hand to her pocket. Do +you see the point, daughter?" + +"It showed plainly where she kept her money," replied Jeanne promptly. + +"Exactly. If you keep fingering the petticoat it will show to every +one that there is something concealed there. Therefore forget all about +the papers if you can. Act as naturally as a little girl would going +to visit her uncle. There must of course be a reason for your going and I +have provided for that in this way. Quinine is a contraband article +and highly prized in the South. This basket has a false bottom. Above +is a lunch for your journey and underneath a quantity of quinine. You +may get through without falling into the Confederates' hands but it +is just as well to be prepared for emergencies, as you remarked last +night. Should you happen to be taken by them and they question you too +closely, finally confess about the quinine. It will be a point in your +favor that you have smuggled it through the Union lines. Should they +take it no matter. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"I have secured transportation to Memphis, Tennessee," continued Mr. +Vance. "It brings you closer to New Orleans and leaves a shorter distance +to be traversed by water. You will have to change cars twice. Once at +Washington City which you can do easily as you have been there a number +of times. The other is at Cincinnati, Ohio. Do you think you can manage +it?" + +"Why, of course I can," said Jeanne proudly. "It isn't as if I had never +been anywhere." + +"Yes, that makes a difference," assented her father. "Yet, my child, +remember that before you have been accompanied by either your mother or +me. Now you will have to rely entirely upon yourself. This is a letter +for Commodore Porter who is a friend of mine, and who is somewhere on +the Mississippi. Ask for him as soon as you reach Memphis. If he is not +there there will be others on our side who will carry you down the river +after reading the letter. If at any time you are in doubt what to do +go to the hospitals. There are always women there who will gladly give +whatever aid you may need. And here is money." + +"Mother gave me some," interrupted Jeanne who had listened with the +closest attention. + +"Yes; that is in your purse, which is in the satchel, is it not?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, take this also. I had this bag made to hold it." He put a roll of +bills into an oilskin bag and drew the cord so that the opening closed +tightly together. "Wear that about your neck, child, and keep it hidden +under your dress," he said. "Keep that always about you as a reserve fund. +So long as you have money you can get along pretty well. Take out what +you need from time to time, carrying only a small amount in your purse. +Above all beware of talking too freely to strangers. Now for the final +instructions: you are going to New Orleans to visit your Uncle Ben. When +you reach there ask him to direct you to Mr. ------," here he whispered +in her ear. "Speak that name to no person. When you have delivered the +papers into his hands your duty is done. Stay with your uncle until you +hear from me. I will write you how to come home. Now, Jeanne, I think +that this is all I have to say. If anything should happen that these +arrangements fail, don't run any danger but return home. You see that I +am leaving a great deal to your judgment. Can you remember everything +that I have said?" + +"Yes. And you may be sure that I will do just as you tell me. It seems +to me that everything has been thought of and that there is no chance of +failing." + +"Sometimes the best laid plans are thwarted," said her father gravely. "It +may not be a very wise thing to send my daughter on such an errand, but +you are such a sensible little thing that I feel as if you would succeed." + +"I will," said Jeanne determinedly. "I want to be worthy of my name, +father. Did not another Jeanne not much older than I lead the Dauphin of +France to a crown? Surely then I can do this thing which is small in +comparison." + +"I am afraid we did wrong in giving you such a name," remarked her father +smilingly. "How full of the martial spirit you are, Jeanne. I believe +that you would undertake the capture of Jeff Davis if I asked you to." + +"I would," exclaimed the girl with a look that boded ill for the rebel +president. "Perhaps we will try it yet." + +"We will get through this affair first, my dear. Here we are at the +station. We'll have to make a run for that train." + +They had taken a ferry during the conversation and by this time had +reached Jersey City. Running through the gates they boarded the train +just as the signal was given to pull out. + +"My little girl, good-bye," murmured Mr. Vance, clasping her to him for a +brief second. "God bless and keep you, Jeanne. May He bring you safely +back. Be brave," he added, as he saw Jeanne's lips quivering. + +"I will," sobbed Jeanne, breaking down completely as her father started +away. "Oh, father, kiss me just once more." + +"Is it too much for you, my little girl?" Mr. Vance held her closely. "You +need not go, Jeanne." + +"I want to. I am all right," gasped Jeanne, controlling herself by an +effort. "Now go, father, dear. See how brave I am." + +She smiled up at him through her tears. Mr. Vance regarded her anxiously. + +"Go," whispered Jeanne as the train began to move. Hastily her father +left her. Jeanne leaned from the window and waved her hand as long as she +could see him. But soon the train rounded a curve and he was lost to view. +Then leaning back in her seat she gave herself up to her tears. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A TIMELY RENEWAL OF ACQUAINTANCE + + +Jeanne sobbed unrestrainedly for some time. A sense of forlornness +oppressed her, and the magnitude of the task she had undertaken weighed +upon her spirits. As Mr. Vance had said she had never traveled alone +before, and now that she had actually started upon the journey a +thousand fears assailed her. The idea of being engaged upon a mission +that involved something of risk had seemed a noble thing, and easy of +accomplishment in her own home. Here, lacking the sustaining presence of +her parents, and the relaxation after the excitement of the day, made +the enterprise seem formidable indeed. So absorbed was she in her +meditations that she had not noticed the other occupants of the coach, +but presently there was borne in upon her senses the sound of singing. + +"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed with a nervous start. + +"Some soldiers on their way to Washington," answered a lady who sat behind +her. + +Jeanne's interest was aroused at once, and she looked about her. In the +rear of the car were a number of soldiers clad in blue. They seemed in +high spirits and were singing lustily: + + "'Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, + We'll rally once again, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom; + We will rally from the hillside, + We will rally from the plain, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'" + +"They are going to the war with a song upon their lips, perhaps to be +killed, while I am afraid because I am alone," mused Jeanne, her lip +curling in self-contempt. "I don't believe that girls amount to much after +all." + + "'We are marching to the field, boys, + Going to the fight, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom! + And we'll bear the glorious Stars + Of the Union and the Right, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'" + +"I will be brave," and the girl sat up very straight. "I will not be +afraid any more, for I, too, am battling for the right. I am just as truly +serving my country as they are, and I will be just as brave. Besides, +father would be sorry if he knew that I felt so bad." + +Drying her eyes she listened attentively to the soldiers as they sang, +one after another, the martial airs that had become so popular since the +breaking out of the war. After a little time they struck up "The Star +Spangled Banner," and then there followed a scene that the girl never +forgot. Men, women and children caught the enthusiasm and, rising to their +feet, joined in the song. Jeanne sang too, as she had never sung before. +The words held a new meaning for her. She felt once more an exaltation +of spirit and a kinship with these brave fellows who were willing to give +their lives for their country. What was danger, disease or life itself, +if she could be of service in ever so small a way? + + "''Tis the Star Spangled Banner, + O long may it wave + O'er the land of the free + And the home of the brave.'" + +A mighty shout went up as the final chorus was rendered, and three cheers +for the flag were given with a vim that mingled musically with the rush +and roar of the train. Flushed and breathless Jeanne sank back into her +seat, her eyes shining, her cheeks glowing, her whole being thrilled with +patriotic fervor. She was no longer fearful and lonely, but eager and +ready to do and dare all things needful for the success of her mission. + +And so when Washington was reached the girl took up her satchel with quite +the air of an old traveler and, accosting an official, asked about her +train with the utmost self-possession. + +She had but a short time to wait before she was once more flying across +the country en route for Cincinnati. The night passed without incident. +The journey was tiresome but so uneventful that she became imbued with +confidence in her ability to travel alone and made her change to the +Memphis and Charleston Railroad for Memphis at Cincinnati without trouble. + +The day had been very warm and as Jeanne took her seat in the coach she +heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the sun sinking to his rest. + +"It will be cooler now," she said to herself, settling comfortably back +in the cushions. "I am glad that I have the seat to myself." + +But to her dismay at the next station a rough-looking man entered the car +and took possession of the seat beside her. The girl looked intently out +of the window, after her first glance at the fellow, inwardly hoping that +his journey would not be a long one. For some time the man did not pay +any attention to her, then he turned abruptly and said: + +"Do you want that window down?" + +"No; thank you," returned Jeanne adopting the manner she had seen her +mother use towards people of whom she did not approve. + +The man eyed her narrowly, but the girl preserved her composure under his +scrutiny. + +"What's yer got in yer basket?" he demanded presently. + +A look of indignation flashed over Jeanne's face. She opened her lips to +reply. "None of your business," as some of the girls she knew would have +done, but something that her mother had once said came into her mind just +as she was about to make the retort. + +"My dear," her mother had said, "no matter how rudely others may behave, +be a lady. Because some one else has been impolite does not excuse it in +you." + +As this came to Jeanne she closed her lips resolutely and, turning her +back very decidedly, looked out of the window. + +"Yer needn't put on any of yer airs with me," growled the fellow, who was +evidently in a surly humor. "Can't yer answer a civil question?" + +Still Jeanne made no reply, and the man reached out to take hold of her +basket. But the girl was too quick for him, and lifting it into her lap +held on to it tightly while she placed her feet upon her satchel. + +"Yer needn't be so spunky," said the fellow sheepishly. "I jest wanted +to see if yer didn't have somethin' to eat." + +"If you are hungry, you should have said so," said Jeanne, relaxing +instantly, for her warm heart was always open to appeals of this nature. +She opened her basket and took out some dainty sandwiches. "You are +quite welcome to what you wish to eat," she said graciously, "but you +were not very nice about asking for it." + +"A feller don't stop fer manners," said the man nibbling at the sandwiches +gingerly, "when he's as hungry as I am. Is that all ye've got in there?" + +"I have some more lunch," said Jeanne rather indignantly, for the fellow +did not seem very ravenous for a hungry man. "I shall keep that for the +rest of my journey." + +"Whar yer goin'? Ain't yer got nobody with yer?" queried the man a gleam +coming into his eyes. + +"Don't you think that you are rather inquisitive?" questioned Jeanne +boldly. "Why should you want to know where I am going?" + +"Because folks have to be keerful in times like these," said the other +brusquely. "Haven't yer got some money too?" + +"I have none to give you," answered Jeanne. "And I would rather that you +would not sit by me any longer. Will you please go away?" + +"Not if I knows myself and I think I do," laughed the man. "See here! I'll +go away if you will give me your purse. I know that it's in that there +basket. You take too much care of it fer it only ter hold yer food. Now +give it to me quick." + +"I won't," said Jeanne determinedly clinging to the basket, for she had +put her purse there after buying some fruit. "If you touch this basket +I'll scream and the people will know what you are doing." + +"Pooh! I'll tell them that you are my crazy sister that I'm taking to an +asylum," said the fellow easily. "Now you'd better give me that money." + +"People would know that I was not your sister," exclaimed the girl +scornfully. "You don't look in the least like my brother. Now, sir, go +away." + +"Not without that money. Sit down," he commanded gruffly as the girl half +rose from her seat. + +Jeanne cast a wild, imploring look about her for help and sank back in her +seat despairingly, for the passengers seemed intent upon other concerns, +and the noise of the train prevented the conversation from being overheard. + +"Are you going to hand out that money?" + +"Ye-es," faltered Jeanne, reaching for her purse. + +"What do you mean by frightening this girl?" demanded a voice, and a hand +was laid upon the ruffian's shoulder. "Get out of my seat, you rascal, +or I'll have you thrown off the car." + +A cry of delight escaped Jeanne's lips as she saw that the man who +had come to her assistance was the old gentleman who had bought the +handkerchiefs from her during the fair. + +"I--I did not mean any harm," stammered the fellow, resigning the seat +with alacrity. "I was jest trying ter scare the girl a little." + +"Well, let me catch you 'jest trying ter scare her,' any more, and it will +be the worse for you," cried the old gentleman threateningly. "Now clear +out, and let me see no more of you." + +The fellow slunk off and her friend in need took the seat by Jeanne's side. + +"That fellow was annoying you terribly, was he not?" + +"Yes, sir; I was very much frightened, especially when he demanded my +money." + +"What! Did he do that? Why the scamp! This is worse than I thought. I'll +get the conductor after him." + +"Oh, let him go," pleaded Jeanne, who was quite a little upset by the +episode. "Please stay with me." + +"Very well." The old man saw her nervousness and acquiesced willingly. +"He can't get off the train so long as this rate of speed is kept up, and +I'll see about getting him later. Now tell me all about it." + +Jeanne gave him a succinct account of what the man had said and done. +"And I was so glad when you came up as you did," she said in finishing. +"But I did not expect to see you here, sir, and I thank you so much for +your assistance." + +"Tut, tut! It is every American's duty to look after women folks when +they travel alone. I had just come from the smoker and saw as I entered +the door that something was wrong. As the ruffian had my seat I came up +at once and demanded it of him. But you are not more surprised to see me +than I was to recognize the little patriot of the handkerchiefs. Aren't +you a long way from home?" + +"Yes, sir; I am, but I am going to visit my Uncle Ben in New Orleans." + +"Rather a troublesome time for a visit," remarked the other musingly. Then +as a deep flush suffused the girl's cheek, he added keenly, "I know that +there are sometimes reasons why visits should be made even though the +times be perilous. There! I am not going to ask any questions, so don't +look at me like that. My name is Emanuel Huntsworth, and I live near +Corinth, Mississippi. I was formerly a New Englander but settled in the +South a number of years ago. My Union sentiments having made me obnoxious +to my neighbors I feared for the safety of my family and am returning +from moving them North. I am going back now to wind up my business, +when I shall go North once more to do what I can for the government. If +you have no friends with you, perhaps you have no objections to my company +as far as our ways lie together." + +"I should be pleased to be with you," said Jeanne sweetly. "I am all +alone, Mr. Huntsworth. My name is Jeanne Vance, and I live in New York +City. I was all right until I got on this train, but now I can't help +but be a little uneasy since that man acted so." + +"The rascal! I had forgotten him. Conductor," as that individual came by. +"I think there is a man on this train that will bear watching." Thereupon +he related the incident to the official. + +"I will look after the fellow," said the conductor. + +But search failed to reveal the presence of the man on the train and soon +Mr. Huntsworth and Jeanne were convinced that, fearing the consequences +of his actions, he had jumped from the train. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS + + +"You must be very tired," remarked Mr. Huntsworth, as the train drew in +at the Memphis station. "It has been a long hard trip, and if you'll take +my advice you will stay here for a day or two before trying to go farther +on your journey." + +"Oh, I must not," exclaimed Jeanne quickly. "I must get to New Orleans +just as soon as I can. It is very necessary." + +"Necessary, eh?" The old gentleman regarded her with a quizzical +expression on his face. "Why should you be so anxious to see your +uncle? You must be very fond of him. Have you visited him often?" + +"No, sir," answered Jeanne in some confusion. "I never saw him in my life. +He went to New Orleans and engaged in business there long before I was +born. Father hasn't heard from him for a number of years." + +"Then isn't it rather queer for your father to choose such a time as this +for you to pay him a visit?" queried Mr. Huntsworth keenly. "Now don't +be alarmed, child," he added hastily as Jeanne looked up in a startled +manner while the color mounted to cheek and brow. "I do not wish you +to tell me any of your secrets if you have any. I presume that there are +just and sufficient reasons for you to go or you would not be going. I +merely wished to show you that over anxiety to reach your destination +might subject you to suspicion. Also tell no one else that you have never +seen your uncle. If you do, others beside myself will wonder why you +have been sent to him at a time like this. You don't mind my telling +you this, little girl, do you?" + +"No, indeed," returned Jeanne warmly. "I am very glad that you did so. +Father says that one way to learn things is to listen to older people. But +I will be truly glad to see Uncle Ben. Father has told me so much about +him. He was his favorite brother, and my brother, Dick, is named for him +and for father too. Richard Benjamin Vance." + +Mr. Huntsworth's eyes twinkled, and he gave a low chuckle of appreciation. + +"My dear," said he, "just answer every one who asks you questions in the +way you have me, and you'll come out all right. Of course you would +want to see your uncle under those circumstances." Again he chuckled +and looked at her approvingly. "She knows that I am her friend," he +mused, "yet she will not tell me why she is sent down here. That there is +some reason for it I am convinced. A very remarkable girl!" Aloud he +continued, "Here we are at Memphis, child. What shall you do now?" + +"It is so near night that I guess that I'd better go to a hotel," said +Jeanne. "That is what father always does first. Then to-morrow morning I +want to find Commodore Porter. I have a letter for him." + +"Porter is down the river with Farragut. I doubt if you will be able to +find him. But we'll see in the morning. The thing to do is to get a good +night's rest after this journey. Here is a cab for the Gayoso House. I +always stop there. It is a good place, and overlooks the river. Have you +ever seen the Mississippi before?" + +"No," answered Jeanne trying to look about in the gathering darkness. +"It's a great river, isn't it?" + +"None greater," answered Mr. Huntsworth enthusiastically. "Whichever side +of this struggle holds it will be the winning side. It is the backbone of +the rebellion, and the key to the whole situation." + +"But we hold it, sir," said Jeanne earnestly. "My father says that now +that Vicksburg is taken it will not be long before Richmond will fall and +then the rebellion will be over." + +"Pray God that your father may be right," said Mr. Huntsworth. "But I +fear that he is mistaken. These Southerners are not so easily whipped. +Every inch of the Confederacy will have to be conquered before they will +acknowledge themselves beaten. The North makes the same mistake as the +South does. Each forgets that both are of the same Anglo-Saxon blood that +never knows defeat. I fear the struggle will be a long and bloody one, +all the more bitter for being waged between brothers." + +"I hope that it will not be long," sighed Jeanne. "I shouldn't like for +Dick to have to be away much longer." + +"Is your brother in the army, my dear?" + +"Yes, sir. Father works for the government, mother belongs to The Woman's +Central Relief Association, and I make socks and hem handkerchiefs for +the soldiers, and----" she paused suddenly, conscious that she was about +to speak of the object of her journey. + +"And you hold fairs to tempt the shekels from the unwary, eh?" completed +Mr. Huntsworth. "Well, you are certainly a patriotic family. This is the +Gayoso House, child. It has been the resort of all the noted Southerners. +It is too dark for you to see the river, but you can hear its murmurings." + +Jeanne leaned forward eagerly. The soft lapping of the water, as it beat +against the foot of the bluff upon which the city stood, came gently to +her ears. + +"I wish I could see it," she exclaimed. + +"You can in the morning. Meantime, let's get some supper. Here, boy," to a +porter, "don't you see that we are waiting to be shown to the dining-room?" + +"Yes, sah. Right dis way, sah," responded the negro, his ivories relaxing +into a broad grin. "Glad ter see yer back, sah. We all's mighty sorry ter +heah dat you is gwine ter go norf, sah." + +"Who told you that I was going North, you black rascal?" demanded Mr. +Huntsworth. "I've been North. Have just gotten back. Here, take this, +and tell that waiter to hurry up with that supper." + +"Yes, sah. Thank ye, sah," answered the black pocketing the shinplaster +slipped into his hand, with alacrity. + +"I think I never saw so many negroes before," remarked Jeanne, looking +about the dining-room. "Where do they all come from?" + +"You'll see a great many more before you go back to New York," responded +Mr. Huntsworth. "The South literally teems with them. If the race only +knew its power it would not leave its battles to be fought by the North. +A while ago I said the Mississippi was the key to the rebellion. I was +mistaken. It is dar-key." + +Jeanne laughed merrily. + +"My dear child, did you see the point?" cried the old gentleman +delightedly. "That is indeed an accomplishment! Now my daughter, +Anne, is a good girl. An excellent girl, but she not only cannot make +a pun, but neither can she see one when it is made. I have a little +weakness that way myself." + +"We used to, Dick, father and I, to make them at home. But we did it so +much that mother stopped us. She said that it wasn't refined--I am sure +that I beg your pardon," she broke off in great distress. + +"There! Don't take it so to heart," laughed Mr. Huntsworth good-naturedly. +"I know that it isn't just the thing to pun, but + + "'A little nonsense now and then + Is relished by the best of men.' + +"Then, too, we have the example of the immortal Shakespeare. But I won't +indulge again before you, my dear." + +"Oh, but I like them," cried Jeanne. "I think mother stopped us because +we did nothing else for a time. But she used to laugh at some of them +herself. She did, truly." + +"Well, well, of course if you enjoy them that is another thing. Perhaps +you can tell when a boy is not a boy." + +"I can beat any sort of a drum but a conundrum," was Jeanne's quick reply. + +"My, my, but I shall have to look to my laurels," exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth +in mock alarm. "That was very bright." + +"It's Dick's," confessed Jeanne blushing. "He is so clever. He could +always think of something good to say." + +"You think a great deal of Dick, don't you?" + +"Yes, sir; we are very proud of him. And his Colonel has complimented him +twice for bravery," and Jeanne's eyes lighted up with pride. "He went at +the first call for troops. I'll never forget the day he asked father if he +might go. 'It's our country's need, father,' he said, standing there so +brave and handsome. 'No Vance has ever turned a deaf ear to that, sir.' +And father said, 'My son, if you feel it your duty, go, and God be with +you.' O, you should see Dick, sir," she continued, enthusiastically. +"There is no one quite like him." + +"Perhaps I may some day. I should like to very much. I do not wonder at +his bravery since every one of you are so devoted to the cause. Now, my +little girl, you had best retire. I am sure that you must be tired." + +Jeanne rose instantly and, bidding him good-night, was shown to her room. +She was up bright and early the next morning, and, dressing quickly ran +down the stairs and out on the gallery eager to take a look at the city. + +The Gayoso House fronted upon a wide esplanade which extended along +the bluff in front of the town. Blocks of large warehouses and public +buildings bordered the esplanade on the same side as the hotel. The city +was beautifully situated on the Mississippi River just below the mouth of +the Wolf River, and located upon what was known as the fourth Chickasaw +Bluff, an elevation about forty feet high. + +Below the bluff ran the river, and far to the right was what had been a +naval depot established by the United States but used until the recent +capitulation of Memphis by the Confederates for the purpose of building +vessels of their own. To Jeanne, accustomed to New York City, Memphis +seemed very small indeed. It was in reality a place of about twelve +thousand inhabitants and considered a flourishing little city, being +the port of entry for Shelby County, Tennessee. At one time it was the +most important town on the river between St. Louis and New Orleans. + +But if the girl was disappointed in the size of the place, the beauty of +the surroundings made up for it. She gave an ecstatic "Oh," at the +sight of the broad esplanade with the noble river washing the base of +the bluff which jutted out into a bed of sandstone that formed a +natural landing for boats. Several steamboats lay at anchor and Jeanne's +attention was drawn to them by the singing of the blacks as they +hurried to and from the wharf loading the steamers with freight. It was +a weird plantation refrain in the minor key. Jeanne had never heard +anything like it, and she listened intently as the song grew louder and +louder as the enthusiasm of the blacks increased: + + "Ma sistah, done you want to get religin? + Go down in de lonesum valley, + Go down in de lonesum valley, + Go down in de lonesum valley, ma Lohd, + To meet ma Jesus dar." + +Over and over they sang the refrain, and the girl was so interested that +she did not hear Mr. Huntsworth's approach. + +"Well, what do you think of the South?" he asked. + +"I like it. Mr. Huntsworth, just listen to those negroes sing. Isn't it +musical?" + +"They call them niggers here," said Mr. Huntsworth smiling. "Yes; their +singing is melodious. I have always liked to listen to it. Sometime in +the future, I fancy, more will be made of those melodies than we dream +of now. When you go down the river you will hear more of it. Some of +their songs are very quaint. Do you know that we will have to see General +Wallace to obtain a permit to go into the enemy's country?" + +"General Wallace?" repeated Jeanne. "Why?" + +"The town is under martial law with General Wallace in command. I have +been wondering what will be the best for you to do. To come with me to +Corinth, for we can go there without difficulty, or for you to stick to +the river route as you had intended. I have learned that Vicksburg is not +in our hands after all. Its capitulation was a false report. Farragut is +waiting for Halleck to send troops to occupy it and is still keeping up +the bombardment." + +"But a boat could get through, could it not?" + +"Yes; I think so. Davis guards the stream above Vicksburg while the +Commodore holds the lower part. I'll talk with General Wallace about it. +Meantime after we have had breakfast you can walk along this esplanade, +and see something of the place. You will not get lost, will you?" + +"No, indeed," laughed Jeanne. "I came from New York, you know. I should +be able to get around a little place like this." + +"Very well, then." + +Jeanne donned her hat and wandered along the wide esplanade viewing the +city, the river and the surrounding country. She walked on and on until +finally she had wandered some distance from the hotel and the buildings +were growing farther and farther apart when she was startled by a groan. + +Looking about her she beheld a young fellow of about twenty-one years clad +in the blue uniform of the United States lying upon the ground. Without +a thought but that one of the soldiers was suffering Jeanne sprang to +his side and knelt beside him. + +"What is it?" she cried. "Are you hurt?" + +"Just faint," murmured the young man in a weak voice, and the girl noted +with surprise the Southern accent. "I'll be all right in a moment." + +"Smell this." Jeanne thrust her bottle of smelling salts under his nose, +and began to chafe his forehead vigorously. "There! You're better now, +aren't you?" + +"Much better." The young fellow struggled to a sitting posture and smiled +wanly. "What a good little thing you are!" + +"Well, I like soldiers," said Jeanne. "My brother, Dick, is one, and +whenever I see a soldier suffering I always want to do something for him. +You are fighting for us, you know. Are you sick?" + +"No; but I have been. I just came out of the hospital a few days ago, and +I am not so strong as I thought." + +"You should go home and stay until you get well," said the girl with a +quaint assumption of maternal authority. + +"Home! I have none." The young man's brow darkened. "If I were to go to my +home, I would be spurned from its doors." + +"But why?" cried Jeanne. + +"Listen, and you shall hear, child. I am a native of the state of +Louisiana. I was educated at West Point, and when the war broke out had +just graduated. You know the conditions under which we are entered, do you +not?" + +Jeanne shook her head. + +"We are to serve the country four years for the education given, so when +the war came I felt it my duty to give those four years. I went to my +father and told him so briefly. 'Never darken my door again while you +wear that uniform,' he said. 'You are no son of mine if you side in with +a horde of miscreants sent to invade the sacred soil of the South.' I told +him that it was my duty. That I had but just graduated and that my honor +demanded that I should repay my debt to the government, but he would not +listen. So I left him." + +"But have you no friends?" asked Jeanne, her face aglow with compassion. + +"Friends? No; they fight on the other side," was the bitter reply. "And +what do these Yankees care for me? They don't realize what I have given +up." + +"But we do care," cried the girl. "My father and mother just love +soldiers. Oh, if you would only go to them they would care for you. Do +go. Will you?" + +A smile lighted up the young man's face as he noted her warmth. + +"I wish all your people were like you," he said. "It would not be so hard +to do my duty then." + +"We are all just alike," said Jeanne. "My father would be proud to have +you honor his house. And you are an officer, too," she added, glancing at +his epaulets. + +"Only a lieutenant." + +"Well, it doesn't matter what you are since you are a soldier. Have you +a pencil and paper?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"I want to give you my father's address. You will go there, won't you?" + +"My little girl," the young man's voice was husky. "I couldn't do that, +you know. Why, it would be monstrous to intrude upon them." + +"No; it would not," declared Jeanne. "I wish I were going home. I'd make +you go with me. But won't you go? Truly they would welcome you as if +you were Dick, my brother. And if you don't go, I'll always feel as if +something had happened to you just because you had no place to go. You +have done a great deal for our side, you know." + +"Well, I'll promise," said the soldier a little wearily, as if it were +beyond his strength to prolong the argument. "Where do they live?" + +"In New York City," and Jeanne rapidly penciled the address. + +"Then it is utterly out of the question. I can't promise you." + +"I know," said Jeanne quickly. "You haven't any money." + +A flush passed over the Lieutenant's face. + +"Soldiers never do have, Dick says," went on the girl, taking out her +purse in a matter-of-fact way. + +"No--no, I--I can't do that," groaned the soldier. "Merciful goodness, has +it come to this? That I should receive charity from a child!" + +"It isn't charity," cried Jeanne hotly. "You can pay it back to my father +if you like. I want you to get good and strong so that you can fight for +us again." + +"I'll do it," exclaimed the young fellow impulsively. "A few weeks' rest +would put new life in me. And I'll be your soldier, little girl." + +"Will you?" cried Jeanne delightedly. "That will be most as good as if I +could fight myself, won't it?" + +"Every bit," declared the Lieutenant rising. "God bless you, child. Such +warm hearts as yours make life seem worth the living after all." + +He raised her hand to his lips. Then as if afraid to trust himself to +speak further left her abruptly. Excited and happy Jeanne ran back to +the hotel where she found Mr. Huntsworth waiting for her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +IN DIXIE LAND + + +"Oh, Mr. Huntsworth," she cried, "I have something to tell you," and she +rapidly related the incident of the young Lieutenant. + +"Are you sure the fellow was telling the truth?" queried the old man +smiling at her enthusiasm. "Sometimes rascals tell all sorts of stories in +order to get money." + +"This man was a gentleman and I know he was truthful. He didn't want +to take the money at all. I had to plead with him to get him to do it. +Besides he did not speak to me until I had spoken to him first. He was +not strong enough for duty and he showed it." + +"Then, my dear, you have done a noble thing. If the young man told the +truth his position is indeed a sad one. His rebel kinsmen would turn from +him if he espoused the cause of the Union and his duty is doubly hard that +he must fight against father, home, neighbors and friends. I am afraid +that we do not appreciate all that a man gives up when, a Southerner by +birth, he throws his lot in with ours. Many high-minded men have gone +with the South because their state went that way, and it takes nobleness +indeed to rise above the call of one's own state when the government +demands the sacrifice. I should like to have seen the young fellow. Did he +give his name?" + +"Why, I did not think to ask it," exclaimed Jeanne. "But father will know +of course." + +"So you really believe that he will go to your father's." + +"Certainly I do." + +"Oh, for the faith of childhood," exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. "But whether +he does or not you seemed to have infused new life into him and that is +what a man needs most when he is discouraged. You are a true patriot, +child. But now, my little Quixote, let's go to General Wallace. I have +explained everything to him, but he desires to see you personally." + +The headquarters of Gen. Lewis Wallace who was at this time in charge of +the city of Memphis were soon reached, and Jeanne and her friend were +ushered into his presence. A man of medium height, rather slender in +build, stern of feature but whose eyes beamed with kindness, serious of +mien and visage and habited in a plain suit of blue flannel with two +stars upon his shoulders denoting a Major-General in the United States +Army, rose to greet them. Full of chivalric dash, possessing a cool head +with a capacity for large plans and the steady nerve to execute whatever +he conceived, the young General was an interesting figure and Jeanne +gazed at him with some curiosity. + +"So, my little maid," said the General. "You wish to go to New Orleans?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Jeanne returning his scrutiny modestly. + +"Do you not know that it will be a difficult matter to do so? Farragut +is still storming the batteries of Vicksburg and while a transport goes +this morning to take supplies to Captain Davis, and you could go down that +far on it, still it is scarcely the time for a girl to make a visit." + +"I must go, General," said Jeanne firmly. + +"Will you tell me why, my child?" + +"I cannot, sir." + +"But I cannot let you subject yourself to danger unless there is some +necessity for it. It seems to me that a mere visit could be postponed +until a safer season. Now unless there are urgent reasons for it I feel +compelled to forbid your going." + +"Sir," said Jeanne blushing at her temerity yet speaking boldly +notwithstanding, "there are urgent reasons for my going. I do not wish to +tell them because they concern the government. But my father would not +have let me come had there not been necessity." + +"You surely do not mean that you are an emissary of the government?" +exclaimed the General in surprise. "Why, you are but a little girl." + +"But exceedingly patriotic, General," interrupted Mr. Huntsworth. "She +has given a fair to raise money for the soldiers, made I don't know +how many shirts, socks and handkerchiefs and just now emptied her purse +to send a soldier home to her parents to be taken care of. Best of all +she can relish a pun when she hears one which you will agree is a rare +accomplishment for a girl or even a woman. Oh, she is capable of anything." + +"I believe it," laughed the General. "I fear that I shall have to give +up before such a formidable array of accomplishments. Have you really done +all those things?" + +"All but the shirts," answered Jeanne shyly, "mother makes those. You +see father works for the government, mother is in the Women's Relief +Association and Dick is in the army, so I just had to do something to +help too." + +"I see," said the General. "What is your father's name?" + +"Richard Vance, sir." + +"Richard Vance!" exclaimed the General. "Oh! I understand everything now. +You shall go to New Orleans, child, if our boats can get you there. The +transport will start in an hour. Can you be ready to go by that time?" + +"I am ready now, sir." + +"That is the bearing of a true soldier," approved the General. "I will +give you a letter to Farragut----" + +"I have one to Commodore Porter, sir," interrupted Jeanne, producing the +missive. "He is my father's friend." + +"That is all right," General Wallace hastily scanned the letter. "But I +will add a few lines to Farragut. Success to you, my child." + +"Thank you, sir," answered Jeanne gratefully. + +"Now we will amuse ourselves by walking about a little until the transport +starts," said Mr. Huntsworth as they left the room. "My train goes this +afternoon." + +"Then I shall have to tell you good-bye soon," said the girl regretfully. +"I am sorry, Mr. Huntsworth. You have been very kind to me. My journey +would not have been so easy had it not been for you." + +"Tut, tut, I have done nothing," said the old gentleman. "I have pleased +myself in helping you. I was glad to have such a bright little companion. +And we shall meet again, my dear. I promise you that. I am not going to +lose sight of my little comrade easily. I want to bring my daughter, Anne, +to see you when you get home." + +"I wish you would," replied Jeanne. "I should like to know her. Mr. +Huntsworth, don't you think I might send a telegram to my father from +here to let him know that I am all right and about to start for New +Orleans?" + +"Why, bless my soul, child! That is the very thing to do! What a head you +have! There is the office on the other side of the street." + +"Yes; that was what made me think of it." + +The telegram dispatched, the two wended their way to Jackson Park. + +The statue of the old hero of New Orleans stood in the centre of the +green. It was inclosed by a circular iron fence and ornamented by +carefully trained shrubbery. The bust of the hero was placed on the +top of a plain shaft of marble about eight feet high. On the north side +of the shaft was an inscription. + +"Look!" exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. "Some rampant rebel has marred that +inscription." + +Jeanne looked and saw the writing which read "The Federal Union: It +Must be Preserved"--the words Federal and Union had been chipped out, +presenting an appearance as if a small hammer had been struck across them. + +"The villain!" continued the old gentleman irascibly. "He ought to be hung +who ever he is!" + +"It is a pity," said Jeanne. "Isn't this a cruel war, Mr. Huntsworth, +that the things both the North and South have been so proud of now become +hateful to one part of the country? I never thought so much about it until +since I met that young man this morning." + +"It is a terrible thing for brothers to be arrayed against each other as +we are," assented Mr. Huntsworth. "But don't think about it too much. It +is a pity that your young life should be clouded by the knowledge. You +think too much for your age." + +"I am better for it," said Jeanne. "Wouldn't it be dreadful for me to +laugh and play and be glad all day when the country is in peril? Every +one ought to think." + +"Perhaps you are right. But sometimes I have heard you say things that +made me think you a bit uncanny, as the Scotch say. I am going to advise +your father to turn you out to grass when the war is over. I suppose it +would be useless to urge such a thing so long as the war continues." + +"'To turn me out to grass,'" laughed Jeanne. "What a funny expression. +Do you mean for me to live in the fields like the cows and the horses?" + +"Well, something on that order," smiled Mr. Huntsworth. "Your father will +understand what I mean. See, there is your steamer, child. I will see you +aboard and then I must say good-bye." + +The steamer which had been a passenger packet plying her trade between +St. Louis and New Orleans before the war had been converted into a +transport for carrying men and supplies for the government. As Mr. +Huntsworth and Jeanne ascended the gangplank they were met by the Captain. + +"Is this the young lady who is to be our guest down the river?" he asked +in such a hearty way that Jeanne's heart warmed to him immediately. +"General Wallace advised me that I was to expect one." + +"This is the girl, Captain," replied Mr. Huntsworth. "And I hope for your +sake that you and your crew are thoroughly Union, otherwise it would be +better for you to meet with a rebel ram. I don't believe that the Johnnies +could make it any warmer for you than she could." + +"This is just the place for her then," declared the Captain smilingly. +"We are Union to the core, Miss Vance. I believe that is your name." + +"Yes, sir; my name is Jeanne Vance, but please do not call me 'Miss +Vance.' It makes me feel so strange." + +"All right, my little girl. I will do as you say. I am glad that you have +no grown-up notions about you. I foresee that we shall get along famously. +This is the way to the cabin, and that room is where you will bunk. It +is next to mine. You can call on me or Tennessee for anything you need." + +"Tennessee!" ejaculated Jeanne with a puzzled look. + +"Yes; our cook. We call her Tenny for short, and she is about the jolliest +old darky that ever trod a deck. A good motherly woman with a white soul +if she is black. Now make yourself comfortable. I will send Tenny to you +to help you. I have some things to attend to on deck." + +"Isn't he kind?" exclaimed Jeanne. "How good people are to girls traveling +alone!" + +"It is because they are Americans," said Mr. Huntsworth. "You should +be proud of such a country. I am glad that you have fallen into such +pleasant hands. I will tell your father if I see him before you do. Will +you stay in New Orleans long?" + +"I don't know. I will have to hear from my father about that. But how easy +it has been to get there!" + +"The most difficult part is to come," said the old gentleman gravely. +"Once the Vicksburg batteries are passed you will be safe. I do not think +that this boat will try to make the run. She is hardly in fighting shape. +Of course you will be transferred to a gun boat. Well, well, I hope that +you will get through all right and that we will soon meet again. Good-bye, +little girl." + +"Good-bye, sir," and Jeanne shook hands with him cordially. "Thank you so +much for all your kindness. I hope that I will see you again. Good-bye." + +Another hand shake and the old gentleman left the cabin slowly, and went +on shore. + +"Done you feel bad, honey," and a fat negress came up to her as she sat +down on the side of her berth feeling rather forlorn. "Wus dat yer par?" + +"No," and Jeanne looked up quickly with a smile. "Are you Tennessee? I am +glad to see you. The Captain told me about you." + +"Yes; I'se Tennessee, honey, but lawsie! Dey doesn't call me nuffin but +Tenny. But ef yer want ter see the las' ob de ole gem'muns jest foller +yer aunty ter de deck." + +Jeanne followed the negress, and stood on the deck watching the +preparations for departure. Mr. Huntsworth saw her and waved his +hand. Jeanne waved hers in response, and as the transport backed out into +the river and steamed southward, she gazed at him until his figure grew +to be a tiny speck and then disappeared in the distance. + +"Now, missy, I'se got ter ten' ter de dinner, but you can kum wid me ef +yer likes, elsen you can stay hyar and watch de ribber. Most folks likes +ter do dat. I 'spect mebbe dats de best thing fer yer." + +"Well, then I will stay, Mrs. Tenny," smiled Jeanne. + +"Mrs. Tenny! Huh! Who is yer talkin' to, honey? I'se jest Tenny or aunty +jest as yer likes. But done go ter puttin' no missis on to it. White folks +done do dat down hyar." + +"Then I will call you Tenny," said Jeanne, recoiling just a little from +calling the woman aunty. "But it doesn't seem right not to say Mrs." + +"Yes, missy, it's all right. Now I'll get up a good dinner. 'Specks you +is powerful hungry, ain't yer? Ole Tenny gwine ter do her bes' fer de +little missy," and the good creature hurried below. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE EXAMPLE OF A GIRL + + +Slowly the transport, which was called The Gem, steamed down the river +and Jeanne stayed on deck long hours to watch the scenery, which was +new and strange to her. The river was full of devious windings and the +girl was amazed at its great bends and loops, and sometimes it seemed to +her that the turns must bring them back to Memphis. The eastern shore +bounded by the lofty plains of Tennessee and Mississippi terminating +at times in precipitous bluffs afforded a great contrast to the flat +lands of the western bank. The dense forests of cottonwood, sweet gum, +magnolia, sycamore and tulip trees festooned with long gray streamers of +moss were interspersed with cypress swamps and a network of bayous. + +"Whar you bin dat you ain't nebber seed no 'nolias befo'?" queried +Tennessee as she listened to Jeanne's expressions of admiration as a +particularly handsome clump of magnolias came into view on the western +bank. The channel of the river at this point ran so close to the shore +that the perfume of the creamy blossoms was very perceptible. + +"I've always lived in New York City," replied Jeanne. "I saw some magnolia +trees once in Maryland, but I never saw them in blossom. Aren't they +beautiful?" + +"Yes, honey. Dey is purty fer a fac'," replied the negress. "I allers +laked de 'nolias myself, and dat wuz de reason dat I named my darter so, +but we called her Snowball fer short." + +"You did?" laughed Jeanne. "Why, Tenny, Snowball isn't any shorter than +Magnolia. Why didn't you call her 'Nolia,' if you wished to shorten the +name?" + +"My ole marster, he done it," was the reply. "Ole marster say, 'Tenny, dat +li'l pickaninny too white ter be named anything so yaller as a magnolia. +Better call her Snowball.' Ole marster allers would hab his joke, and +dat gal of mine wuz jist as brack as de nex' one. I didn't want my chile +called Snowball. It wuzn't stylish nohow, but would you b'lebe me, chile? +De fust thing I knowed, white and culled wuz a callin' her Snowball, an' +den I did, too." + +"Where is she now, Tenny? I should think you would want her with you on +these trips." + +"Chile, chile, dat's de thing dat tears dis hyar old heart ob mine," +said the woman, her eyes filling with tears. "Ole marster say she was a +'likely gal' an' she wuz, ef she wuz mine. Dey made much ob her and would +hab her roun' dem all de time. Seem laik nobody could do for 'em laik +Snowball. Den ole marster tuk sick and died an' ole missus she say she hab +ter sell us all, kase she didn't hab no money any mo'. An' Massa Cap'n he +bought me but 'nother man bought Snowball an' tuk her down to Loosyanny." + +"Why, that is awful!" cried Jeanne, her eyes overflowing, her heart full +of sympathy for the darky. She had often heard tales of this kind but this +was the first time that this phase of slavery had been brought home to +her. A child torn from its mother appealed to her, so many miles from +her own dear mother, as nothing else could have done. "Why didn't Captain +Leathers buy her too?" she asked. "He seems like a kind man." + +"He is, honey. 'Deed he is," replied Tenny wiping her eyes, "an' he did +try, but the yudder man had bought her fust an' he wouldn't gib her up. +I can't blame him fer she wuz a likely gal. Lawsie, chile, dat gal wuz +smarter'n a whip!" + +"How long has she been gone, Tenny?" + +"'Twas befo' de wah broke out. Massa Cap'n he wanted a good cook, an' I +sutinly am dat, so he tuk me. He say dat I'se ter hab my freedum too, but +shucks! what's freedum ter me? I'd rudder hab my gal dan all de freedum in +de world." + +"Yes; I suppose so," said Jeanne dreamily. "Still, Tenny, if you had your +freedom you could go to look for Snowball." + +"Now, missy, what could Tenny do? A pore ole nigger can't do nuffin nohow. +S'pose I did fin' her, what's I gwine ter do 'bout it? I couldn't buy +her. 'Sides, ef dey cot an ole 'ooman a foolin' roun' dat didn't seem +ter 'long ter nobody dey lock me up, suah. Mebbe dey'd whip me. An', +chile, once you had de whip ter yer back you doesn't want it no mo'. No; +I'se gwine ter stay right with Massa Cap'n. He's a good marster, an' +he'll take good keer ob Tenny." + +Jeanne sat silently thinking over what she had heard. Her heart ached +for the helpless mother and she chafed at her inability to aid her. The +darkness of the great slavery evil fell upon her spirit. Was this the +land of the free and the home of the brave? she mused. How could she ever +sing "The Star Spangled Banner" again so long as it waved over a country +a portion of whose inhabitants groaned under a yoke of bondage! + +"'Spect I ortern't ter hab tole yer dis, chile," said Tenny, becoming +alarmed at her silence. "A nigga's trubbles nuffin nohow. Done you bodder +yer purty haid ober it. I'se sorry I tole yer." + +"I am glad, Tenny, but I do feel so sorry for you. I wish I could help +you. If I knew where the man was that bought your child I'd buy her back +and give her to you. Then if Captain Leathers would set you free you could +both go North and nobody could ever separate you again." + +"Bress yer good haht, honey!" exclaimed Tenny, clapping her hands. "I wish +I knowed his name. He wus an horsifer. I heerd dem call him Kuhnel." + +"And don't you remember his name?" + +"No, missy; I doesn't. Nebber heerd him called nuffin but Kuhnel nohow. +Wait a minnit! Chile, chile, 'pears ter me I did hyar it. Lemme think. My +ole haid no 'count no mo'." She placed her hands to her head and looked +with troubled eyes at Jeanne. "Why can't I 'member? 'Twuzn't Massa Benson? +No; 'twuzn't. Think, nigga! Why done yer 'zert yersef? Nebber did hab no +sense nohow." + +Thus she rambled on, muttering to herself until presently she sprang to +her feet exclaiming: + +"I'se got it, missy. 'Twuz Kuhnel Peyton. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! I 'members +it now 'zactly. Massa Kuhnel Peyton! Dat's it. Dat's it." + +"Colonel Peyton!" said Jeanne. "I'll remember that name, Tenny. How much +do you suppose the Colonel would want for her?" + +"'Bout a tousand dollahs, I reckon," answered Tenny. + +"A thousand dollars," echoed Jeanne in dismay. "Oh, Tenny, I haven't near +that much. I didn't suppose that it would be so much as that." + +"Niggas wuth heaps ob money," said Tenny proudly. "My gal wuz smaht, I +tell yer. Dat's why she brung so much. Can't you buy her, missy? Tenny'll +lub yer all yer life ef yer will." + +"I'll write to my father," decided Jeanne. "I'll get him to buy her for +me. He will know just what to do, and you shall have your child again, +Tenny, I'll promise you that." + +"Ef yer'll jest do that, missy, ole Tenny'll do anything in de wohld fer +yer," sobbing in her eagerness. "To think ob habin' my babby ergain. She +wuz my babby, missy. I had ten befo' her but 'peared laik none ob dem +tuk sich a hole on ma haht de way she did. Ef I kin hab her ergain I'll +brack yer shoes, an' scrub yer floors er do anything all de res' ob ma +life. Yer won't need ter lift yer purty white han's ter do er a lick er +wuk nebber no mo'." + +"I'll do it if it is possible," said Jeanne. "It may take some time to +find the Colonel, Tenny. You know that the war has disturbed everything +so, but my father will know just what to do. If anybody can find him I +know that he can. Just hope and pray that it will all come right yet." + +"I'll do dat, honey. I'se been prayin' fer dis long time, but I didn't do +no hopin' kase it didn't seem no use. But bress yer! De Lohd seems 'bout +ter lead me outen de valley ob de shadder. Massa Cap'n say sumtime we all +be free, but dat's too much ter hope fer." + +"No; it isn't, Tenny. The people up North are talking about it all the +time and working for it. I should not be surprised if it were to happen +any time." + +"Glory!" shouted the old woman rapturously. "Den dere wouldn't be no mo' +whippin's, ner chilluns sold frum der mammies, ner hidin's in de swamp +wid de dogs arter yer, ner put in jail ef yer does run away. Oh, chile, +it'll be de bressed day ef it do happen! But it can't be true." + +"Hope for it, Tenny. That is what we are doing, but it grows late and I +believe that I am tired. Would you mind going with me to the cabin while I +go to bed? Someway I feel lonesome to-night." + +"'Course yer lonesum. Way offen yer folks laik dis. Suttinly I'll go an' +only too glad. Ole Tenny'll put yer ter bed laik she wuz yer own mammy." +She bustled about the girl when they reached the latter's stateroom and +soon had Jeanne snugly in bed. "Dis hyar winda'll gib yer air," she said +opening it. "Yer needn't be afeerd kase it opens on de ribba, and nobody +can't git in. Now shet dem eyes ob yourn, and go ter sleep." + +She sat by the girl's side and began crooning weirdly. The wild barbaric +melody rising and falling in a sort of rhythm with the motion of the boat. +Jeanne listened fascinated by the music and presently her eyes became +heavy and soon she was fast asleep. + +On and on down the tortuous curves of the river The Gem wended her way +until at last she came in sight of the flotilla under the command of +Commodore Davis. A shout went up from the fleet as the men caught sight +of the transport, and there was a scramble for her sides as she hove +to alongside of the flagship of the Commodore. + +Jeanne kept herself in readiness to be transferred to one of the gunboats, +for Captain Leathers had told her that he did not expect to go farther. +Soon he returned from a visit to the flagship. + +"Commodore Davis says that it will not be advisable for you to come aboard +any one of his ships as there are many cases of fever among the men," he +said, coming at once to the waiting girl. "Both Commodore Farragut's force +and his own are down with it. They intend withdrawing from the assault on +Vicksburg as they have received orders to that effect from Washington. +Therefore Davis will retire to Helena and Farragut to New Orleans until +they can have the cooperation of the army." + +"But----" began Jeanne. + +"You see the thing is to get you to Farragut," interrupted the Captain. +"Davis and I have decided that some of these supplies ought to be carried +to the Commodore directly. He knows his need; so that I am going to him +with the transport. Davis will send a gunboat with me for protection. It +is fair to tell you that there will be great danger. The ram Arkansas is +anchored just below the city and will do all she can to injure us. Now +the question is, what will you do? The best thing to my way of thinking +would be for you to stay right here with old Tenny either on one of the +gunboats, fever stricken though they be, or to land somewhere until my +return." + +"There is no question at all about it," said Jeanne decidedly. "I will +go with you." + +"But you understand that there is danger, child? Great danger! We may all +of us be killed." + +"Yes; I know," replied Jeanne quietly, "but I started for New Orleans, +Captain, and I am going if I can get there." + +"Then there is nothing more to be said," and the Captain heaved a sigh. +"I will not attempt to combat your decision, child, but I wish you would +not go. However I must see the men now, and place the matter before them. +You may go with me if you like." + +Jeanne followed him and stood by his side as he called all hands aft. + +"My men," said the captain in clear tones, "I have called you together +to put a plain statement of facts before you. You know that we were sent +here with supplies for the two fleets of Commodores Farragut and Davis. +Both squadrons have many cases of fever which has seriously depleted +their strength. Farragut needs the drugs that we have immediately. Of +course he can get supplies by the outside route, but that takes too +long. The poor fellows are in urgent want of what we have. Now, men, +it was not the intention to go farther when we started than Davis's +flotilla, but my heart bleeds for those suffering sailors. I want to run +by Vicksburg to-night in the darkness. I will not disguise the danger. +The ram Arkansas lies at anchor under the city as a further menace +besides the batteries. I want no man to accompany the expedition who does +not go willingly. All who wish to remain with the fleet may do so without +the least stigma of cowardice attaching to them. Who will go with me?" + +There was dead silence. Jeanne looked with surprise at the grave faces +before her. She had thought that men were always ready to lay down their +lives in a good cause. She had not dreamed that any one would hesitate for +a moment. Her amazed look gave place to one of scorn as the time passed +and no one spoke. Stepping close to the Captain's side she slipped her +little hand into his and said clearly: + +"I will go with you, Captain." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THROUGH SHOT AND SHELL + + +A ringing cheer went up from the men and they stepped forward with one +accord. + +"I'll go with you, Captain," cried one. "With you and the little girl to +the death." + +"Ay! to the death," shouted the others in chorus. + +The Captain smiled down into Jeanne's face. + +"You see what you have done," he said. "They did not care to follow me, +but will go anywhere with you. I believe that we shall have to turn over +the boat to your charge." + +"I think they would have gone," said Jeanne, rather abashed at so much +notice. "Perhaps they were just thinking it over." + +"True for you, my beauty," cried the first mate. "That's what we were +doing, Captain. We'd a gone all right." + +"Now, men," said the Captain seriously, still retaining Jeanne's hand, +"you fully realize what you are doing, do you? Think well, because there +can be no backing out when we have started. Any one who does not wish +to join us may go forward. We have no means of fighting and must take +whatever the 'rebs' choose to give us. You see that I am not mincing +matters with you, boys. Move forward any of you who do not wish to go." + +He paused and waited for a few moments, but not a man stirred from his +place. + +"Then listen," he went on briskly. "We'll finish giving the Commodore +his supplies, and then barricade the boat with bales of cotton. Under +the protection of one of Davis's gunboats we will try to run the batteries +under cover of the darkness. Now fall to, my hearties. There is much to +be done." + +There was another cheer and the men sprang to their tasks. The Captain +looked down at the girl by his side. Jeanne's eyes were like stars, and +her cheeks were red as roses. The blood of her Revolutionary ancestors was +up and she showed no sign of fear. + +"What will your father say if I do not bring you safely through this?" +asked the Captain. + +"It is a risk that we must run," said Jeanne. "There is no more danger +for me than for you and the men." + +"True, child; yet we are men, and you are only a girl. I don't know just +where you ought to stay through this affair. One part of the boat will +be just as safe as another." + +"Don't mind me, Captain. You will have your duties to attend to, and I +will not bother if I am 'only a girl.'" + +"Ah! that touched you, did it?" laughed the Captain. "But I do mind you, +child. I don't half like this idea of your going. You are sure that you +won't stay here?" + +"Sure, Captain. Indeed, I must get to New Orleans, and there is no other +way, is there?" + +"No; to try to make it by land on either side the river would be through +the enemy's country with every chance in favor of capture. This is a +desperate risk but sometimes desperate chances stand the best show of +success. Once past Vicksburg and the rest is easy." + +"Then please don't say anything more about my staying," pleaded Jeanne. "I +will try not to be the least bit in the way." + +And so it came about that the transport made ready to run the batteries +of Vicksburg with Jeanne on board. The girl watched the men as they +worked, and waited impatiently for the time to come for them to start. At +last night fell. There was no moon, and a little before midnight a gunboat +drifted out of Miliken's Bend where the fleet lay, and, showing no light +from its chimney, moved like some great bird down the noiseless current, +while the transport, hugging the western shore under the cover of the +friendly darkness, followed close in the rear. + +No sound could be heard from the heights of Vicksburg, nor could any +lights be seen. The city lay in the brooding darkness as calmly quiet +as though no dread batteries lay at her feet waiting but the word of +command to belch forth their terrible fire. An hour passed, and Jeanne, +sitting in the darkness of the cabin listening with strained ears to +catch the least sound, began to believe that they would get safely past +the city undiscovered. + +Suddenly there came a flash followed by a crash that shook the shores. +Lights danced along the heights. Thunder answered thunder and the +roar of batteries from land and water rent the air. Presently a blaze +flickered, flashed and then sprang up in a great sheet of flame upon the +heights throwing the gunboat and the transport into a strong light, +and turning the gloom of the black midnight into the brilliancy of day. +The Confederates had fired a mass of combustibles with which to spy +out the whereabouts of their enemies. + +With the first burst of the artillery Jeanne ran up on deck. + +"Back to the cabin, girl," shouted the Captain hoarsely. "This is no place +for you." + +But as Jeanne turned to obey him a shot tore through the cabin and fell +hissing into the water beyond. The girl paused. Captain Leathers caught +her arm and drew her behind a bale of cotton. + +"Stay there!" he panted. "You will be as safe as anywhere." + +At this moment a terrible shape loomed out of the darkness making straight +for the gunboat. A shout went up from the crews of the gunboat and the +transport as the rebel ram Arkansas was recognized. Determined to make a +grand effort to escape, Captain Leathers ordered all steam to be crowded +on, thinking to run down the river while the gunboat engaged the ram. + +The Gem responded nobly to the appeal and her prow cut the waters until +they rolled from her in one mass of foam. But the Captain's design was +penetrated instantly by the enemy, and shot and shell sizzed through the +air like hail. It seemed miraculous that the transport escaped being +riddled. + +Meantime the gunboat saw that the ram designed to run her down, and +swinging round, welcomed the visitor with a full broadside. As the sound +of the guns and their tremendous reverberations ran along the shore, the +answer came in a terrific onslaught from the batteries above. Pandemonium +seemed to have broken loose. Shot and shell whistled and sang through +the air carrying death and desolation in their wake. Shouts and cries +added to the confusion of the moment. + +The ram, foiled in her first attempt to run down the Yankee, withdrew a +short distance and turned again upon the boat. This time she got her sharp +bow full in upon the heavy iron sides of the gunboat but her headway was +not sufficient to cause any very serious damage. Before she could get +away the Captain of the Yankee vessel rushed upon the hurricane deck and +seizing a pistol shot the rebel pilot dead. The rebel crew retaliated +by shooting him down. In the meantime the ram prepared for another blow, +withdrawing for a terrific onslaught. + +Just at this moment a shell struck the magazine of the plucky gunboat. +There was an instantaneous explosion and the boat was blown to atoms, her +gallant crew perishing with her. + +"We are doomed," groaned Captain Leathers. "Nothing can save us now. Are +you ready to die, little girl?" + +"Ready, Captain," came from Jeanne's pale lips, and she arose from her +place behind the cotton. "But I want to die standing. I wish we could +shoot, Captain." + +"So do I. But we are at their mercy. It would be a relief to do something, +but to die without a chance for a shot. Ah!" + +The exclamation was caused by the fact that the light of the bonfires +was dying down, and the transport was nearing the turn of the lower bend. +The shadows grew deeper and longer, and soon only a pale flickering +flame remained of the brilliant light of a short time before. Then the +blackness of night settled once more upon the river and a cheer broke +from the crew as the transport rounded the lower bend of the great loop +upon which Vicksburg stood, and passed out from under the batteries of +the modern Gibraltar. + +"Will that terrible vessel come after us?" asked Jeanne hardly realizing +that the danger was over. + +"No, child. We are safe. The ram knows that Farragut is somewhere near +here, and she will not venture out to-night. We are safe; thank God!" + +"Thank God!" echoed the girl faintly. "Safe! Oh, Captain, Captain!" and +she burst into a passion of weeping. + +"Why, my little heroine, what does this mean?" cried Captain Leathers +dismayed. "You were cool enough through that fire of grape and canister. +'Ready to die,' you said; 'just so that you could die standing.' It was +enough to frighten the bravest man, yet you were not afraid. And now you +break down?" + +"Leab her ter me, massa," said old Tenny coming up on deck. "Jest you +leab dat chile ter ole Tenny. Ef dis night ain't been enuff ter make an +angel weep den I dunno nuffin. Lawsie, massa! I'se been suah dat I wuz +daid fer de las' hour. Fiah an' brimstone nebber scare me no mo'. De bad +man ain't got no wuss ter gib dan dis has been, an' I knows it. Come, +chile! Come, honey! Ole Tenny'll put yer ter bed now." + +"Yes; that is the best place for her," said the Captain as the girl +continued to sob uncontrollably. "I'll carry her down, Tenny, and you +see to her." + +He lifted Jeanne up bodily in his arms, and bore her into the cabin +picking his way carefully through the debris scattered about. + +"I--I can't help but cry," sobbed Jeanne with an effort at self-control. + +"It's all right, my little girl. Cry all you want to. You are nervous +and overwrought. I feel as if I'd like to do the same if I wasn't a man. +Sleep well because you are safe now, and you won't have any more of this +to go through. Good-night." + +"Good-night," murmured Jeanne and presently she grew calm under Tenny's +soothing ministrations. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JEANNE MEETS THE HERO OF NEW ORLEANS + + +It was late before Jeanne awoke the next morning. The sun was shining +brightly and she lay idly watching the dancing of the sunbeams upon the +wall scarcely realizing where she was. Presently it all came back to her, +and a convulsive shudder shook her frame as she seemed to hear again the +whistle of shot and shell, the cries of the wounded and the shrieks of +the unhappy crew of the gunboat as it blew to atoms. + +"How can the sun shine after all that has happened?" asked the girl with +that wonder that comes to all of us when, after some great calamity, +nature presents the same undisturbed aspect. "Oh, how can I ever laugh +again!" + +"Is you 'wake, honey?" queried old Tenny peering in at the door. "Massa +Cap'n say when it's 'venient fer yer he laik ter hab yer kum ter see +'Miral Farragut." + +"What! have we reached Commodore Farragut? He said 'Commodore' didn't he, +Tenny?" inquired Jeanne, who did not know that Farragut had been recently +made a rear admiral. + +"No, honey; he said 'Miral, I'se suah," returned the negress. + +Jeanne dressed quickly and then hastened to Captain Leathers. + +"How are you this morning, Jeanne?" was the Captain's salutation. "Pretty +thankful to be on earth, aren't you? Admiral," turning to a slight, modest +looking middle aged man with gray hair, "this is the girl I was telling +you about. She stood fire last night like a veteran." + +"You have shown yourself to be a true heroine," said Admiral Farragut +taking her hand. "It is not often that we meet such courage in one so +young." + +"I never heard that you were deficient in this quality," said the Captain. +"Seems to me that I've heard of a number of your exploits when you were a +lad." + +"I was a boy, Captain. One expects such things from a lad but a tender, +delicate little girl,"--and he smiled such a winning smile at Jeanne that +she involuntarily drew closer to him,--"that is decidedly different. Boys +take to such things naturally unless they are molly coddles. Were you not +afraid, little girl?" + +"Not until it was over," answered Jeanne shyly. "But it was a dreadful +time. I can't help thinking of those poor men on the gunboat----" Her +voice faltered and her eyes filled with tears. + +"Yes, child." The Admiral pressed her hand warmly. "That is the worst part +of it. To lose such gallant fellows is one of the hard things of war. And +yet--there is no nobler death than to fall in defense of one's country. +But the Captain tells me that you have a message for me." + +"Yes, sir. I have a letter from my father to Commodore Porter, and General +Wallace added a few lines for you. I will get it." + +She ran to her stateroom and soon returned with the letter. "It is for any +one on our side to read," she said, as Farragut hesitated slightly. + +"In that case," smiled the Admiral. "I will read it. So, my little one, +it is very necessary for you to get to New Orleans? You are young to be +sent on business for the government. Tell me what led you to undertake +such a thing." + +"Because I love my country and wished to do something for her," replied +Jeanne so fervently that Farragut's face kindled in response. + +"Well said," he exclaimed enthusiastically. "That's the stuff I wish that +all Americans were made of. But have you no mother?" + +"I have a dear mother," answered Jeanne quickly. "She was quite willing +for me to come as it was necessary. She made me this flag," drawing it +from her bosom, "and told me that not even for life itself must I betray +it. I have kissed it every night," continued the girl caressing its folds +fondly, "and I keep it right over my heart that no traitorous thought +may enter there." + +"My dear child," a tear glistened in the Admiral's eye, "you are a brave +girl and have a noble mother. So long as America can produce such women +there will be no fear for the Union. You shall get to New Orleans as +quickly as possible. If it were needful I would clear a passage with +my guns. But that will not be necessary. You will soon see the end of +your journey. Would that all messengers were as brave as you have shown +yourself." + +"Perhaps they would be if they could meet with such treatment as I have, +sir. Some of them are very bold and daring, and run fearful risks. I have +heard my father tell of their narrow escapes. And some of them," and her +eyes grew sorrowful, "never get back. I have done nothing compared with +what many of them have done." + +"It is a great deal," said Farragut kindly. "More than most girls could +do." + +And so petted and made much of by officers and men the girl made the +rest of her journey down the river without incident. The entire fleet of +Farragut was brought to New Orleans because the Admiral realized the +futility of taking Vicksburg without troops to hold it. General Butler +at New Orleans had none to send him, and Halleck dawdled at Corinth most +inexplicably. Many of the men were prostrated by fever and rest was a +necessity. + +Into the crescent shaped harbor upon which the city stood the fleet came +to anchor, and Jeanne, full of anticipation at the thought of seeing her +uncle and the successful termination of her mission, stood ready to go +ashore. Captain Leathers came to her side. + +"You are to go with Admiral Farragut," he said. "He will take you to +General Butler who will know just where to find your uncle." + +"Thank you," said Jeanne gratefully. "How kind you have been to me, +Captain Leathers. I will never forget you." + +"And I will never forget you," said the Captain heartily. "When people +brave death together it always makes them feel a sort of kinship, don't +you think? And at any time you want to go back I'll carry you if I am +here." + +"Thank you," said the girl again. They shook hands and the Captain started +to lead her ashore when Tenny ran after them. + +"Shorely you ain't gwine ter leab without tellin' ole Tenny good-bye, is +yer?" she panted. + +"No, no, Tenny. I hope to see you soon again," said Jeanne warmly for she +had conceived a real regard for the faithful creature. "And I won't forget +about Snowball." + +"Bress yer haht, I knows yer won't. Ole Tenny nebber cease ter gib thanks +dat she hab met yer. Good-bye, honey." + +"Good-bye," said Jeanne again and then she followed the Captain down the +cotton platform, which was raised above the levee for the convenient +loading of cotton, to the levee itself, and along the banks to DeLord +Street where they were joined by Admiral Farragut. Jeanne bade the Captain +adieu and then walked slowly by the Admiral's side through the busy +streets en route for the St. Charles Hotel where General Butler had +his headquarters. The city had recovered something of its former activity, +and wore its accustomed garb of careless gaiety and business bustle. + +The markets were bright once more with red bandannas and noisy with the +many-tongued chatter of the hucksters: Creole, Spanish, French, German +and English. A perfect babel of tongues, and louder, more obstreperous +and broader mouthed than all others rose the gleeful negro laughter. + +The day was warm and bright, and the mulatto women with baskets of cakes, +figs, pomegranates, bananas, crape myrtles and oleanders, filled the +air with their musical negro cries as they vended their wares. Nurses +with children wearing Madras kerchiefs of bright colors, wrinkled negro +mammies, Creoles with French or Spanish descent plainly delineated upon +their features and soldiers, clad in the United States uniform, thronged +the banquettes and streets. + +Jeanne looked about her with curiosity, for the quaint old city presented +a thoroughly different aspect to the cities of the North. Many of the +people were of sullen countenance, some of them taking no pains to +conceal their dislike to their conquerors. The stars and stripes hung +everywhere. Hundreds of flags hung over the banquettes and in some +places ropes of them were stretched across the streets. To her amazement +Jeanne saw a well dressed woman go out into the street to avoid walking +under a flag which hung over the banquette. A soldier seized her +unceremoniously and forced her to pass under the emblem. With freezing +hauteur the woman raised her parasol and interposed its shelter between +her and the offending flag. + +"Verily, Butler hath his hands full," quoth the Admiral, and then he +added: "You wished to find your uncle, did you not?" + +"Yes, sir," replied Jeanne, trying to overcome her astonishment at what +she saw. "And yet I don't know whether I should find him first or not." + +"Why?" asked the Admiral in surprise. + +"You know, sir, that I came down here on business," and as he nodded +assent she continued. "My father sent some papers to be given to a man +here in the service of the government. I have always said that I was +going to Uncle Ben, but he is not the man. Father told me not to mention +the name until I reached New Orleans and then only to some one I could +trust. The man's name is John Archer. Now do you think I should go to +him or to Uncle Ben first? I suppose Uncle Ben would help me find him." + +"I should find the man, child. In every case when performing a duty finish +that first before doing anything else. You have shown great prudence in +not mentioning the name before. General Butler will of course know this +Archer, and will see that you see him. Then I know that he will gladly +find your uncle for you." + +"I will do just as you say for you know best. How glad father will be when +he learns how you have helped me." + +"Ought you not to send him some word?" + +"I will just as soon as I can say that I have delivered the papers to Mr. +Archer. He will be so pleased. Then I will visit Uncle Ben until father +says for me to come home. Isn't it queer, Admiral, I have never seen my +uncle?" + +"You have not? But you have heard from him?" + +"No, sir; he came South years ago. Long before I was born, but my father +always thought so much of him that I will be glad to see him." + +"In that case the very wisest thing to do is to find John Archer," said +Farragut emphatically. "This is the St. Charles, child." + +They paused before the famous structure. A broad piazza supported by +pillars overarched with stone ran along the front, making an imposing +entrance. The building was a handsome one, and famed at one time as the +finest hotel in the States. + +Admiral Farragut and his charge were soon admitted to General Butler's +presence. The General had chosen the ladies' parlor as his official +headquarters. The room was filled with orderlies and sergeants each intent +upon the performance of some duty. In the midst of them sat General +Butler. He received his visitors courteously. His name familiar to every +American, spoken of by some in terms of highest praise, and by others +with opprobrium, made Jeanne shrink a little closer to Farragut's side +as the General greeted them. He was of imposing presence. Not tall, but of +well-developed form and fine massive head; not graceful in movement but +of firm solid aspect; self-possessed and slow of speech. + +"This is a great pleasure, Admiral," he exclaimed with heartiness. +"Welcome back to New Orleans." + +"Thank you, General," returned Farragut. "I should be glad to be here +could I feel that I have not left unfinished my work behind me." + +"Vicksburg then is still untaken?" + +"I regret to answer, yes. But you are making progress here. You have begun +a good work. I notice that the streets are being cleaned." + +"The condition of things demanded it," returned Butler. "The quality of +the climate is pernicious and wasting enough without having to brave the +terror of yellow fever. It has been in self-defense." + +"It takes a strong hand to rule the city, does it not?" + +"A strong hand? Yes. I am subjected to all sorts of abuse for my tyranny, +as they call it; but this one measure the strongest rebel among them must +approve. In time perhaps they will see the need of all. My administration +may be vigorous, but of one thing rest assured: So long as Benjamin F. +Butler stays in New Orleans the city shall acknowledge the absolute and +unquestioned supremacy of the United States." + +"There is no doubt but that she will with you at the helm," said the +Admiral. "General, do you know a man by the name of Archer?" + +"John Archer?" asked the General, giving a quick glance at him. "Well, +to any one else, Admiral, I should dissemble; but to you I will say, yes. +Why?" + +"This girl," pushing Jeanne forward, "has brought messages, papers, or +something of that nature for him from New York City: I thought that +perhaps you could arrange a meeting with him for her. After that she has +an uncle in the city whom she wishes to find." + +"This girl?" General Butler eyed Jeanne keenly. "Rather young for a +messenger, isn't she?" + +"In years, perhaps; but she ran the fire of the Vicksburg batteries in +order to reach here." + +"Indeed!" General Butler looked at her more closely. "Do you know John +Archer, child?" + +"No, sir." + +"Orderly, bring in the man Archer," commanded the General. + +A look of surprise passed over Farragut's face, but he made no remark. +Presently the orderly returned with a man. + +"Archer," said the General quietly, "this girl has brought some papers +for you." + +There was a startled expression on the man's face, and he looked at Jeanne +with something like apprehension. General Butler turned his attention to +Admiral Farragut, and Jeanne was left face to face with the man whom she +had come so far to see. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +AN UNFORESEEN RESULT + + +He was not an agreeable looking man and Jeanne felt an instinctive +distrust of him instantly. For a few moments she hesitated, and the +thought came to her that she would not give him the papers. But was it +not for this very thing that she had come to New Orleans? What would her +father say if she did not fulfil her trust? + +"You wished to see me?" said John Archer, and it seemed to Jeanne that +he was trying to make signs to her. + +"If you are Mr. John Archer?" and Jeanne looked at him steadily. "I came +from Mr. Richard Vance." + +"Vance? Richard Vance?" repeated the other as if the name conveyed nothing +of importance to his mind. "What Vance?" + +"Why Richard Vance of New York City," answered Jeanne in astonishment. +She had inferred from what her father had said that John Archer would be +well acquainted with the name. "He is my father, and he has sent me to you +with some papers. If you are Mr. John Archer?" + +"I am he," answered the man, "but I know nothing about any papers." + +"I thought that you would," murmured Jeanne. There seemed something +strange to her in the way the man was acting. "My mother sewed them into +my petticoat," she continued with a growing reluctance against parting +with them. "If there is any place where I could go I would get them. It +seemed the best way to carry them." + +"Orderly," interposed General Butler turning to them, "take the young lady +to Mrs. Butler. My wife will gladly assist you," he added to Jeanne. + +"Thank you," said Jeanne, gratefully hurrying after the Orderly. They soon +reached the apartments set aside for the use of General Butler's wife, and +she herself opened the door in answer to the Orderly's knock. + +"Come right in," she said cordially in response to Jeanne's rapid +explanation. "You are young to be sent on such an errand, my dear. But +the times are such that we cannot always choose our messengers. Very +often the young prove more reliable than older persons. You say that +they are in your petticoat, my child?" + +"Yes, ma'am," returned Jeanne. "You see it made my frock stand out like +crinoline and no one would think it was anything else." + +"And a good place it is too," replied the lady busy with her scissors. +"You have a thoughtful mother." + +"Mrs. Butler," said the little girl suddenly after she and the lady had +finished their task and the papers lay before them, "do you know John +Archer?" + +"No, child. Why?" + +"He is the man to whom my father sent these papers," said the girl +thoughtfully. "Someway I do not like him. I wish he were not the man." + +"My dear," reproved the lady gently, "we ought not to let our fancies +dominate us. If the man came to the General's rooms and was received +there, rest assured that he is all right. The General has means of knowing +whether a man is to be trusted or not." + +"True," replied Jeanne, and feeling that it would be ungracious to give +further expression to her distrust she went slowly back to the parlor. +Why should she, a mere child, presume to doubt a man whom the General and +even her own father trusted? "But I do wish," sighed she as she opened the +door of the apartment. "I do wish that he were not the man." + +"Here are the papers," she said, going straight to Mr. Archer. + +"Thank you." Archer took the papers mechanically and without another word +or look at her turned to the Orderly, and was conducted from the room. + +Jeanne stood looking after him somewhat dismayed. Was this all? Some way +she had thought, had expected it to be so different. Mr. Huntsworth, +Captain Leathers, even the great Farragut had seemed to consider that +she had done wonders in carrying the papers but this man thought nothing +of her action. Tears of disappointment welled to her eyes. + +"Never mind, child," said Farragut seeing her distress. "Some people are +so matter of fact that they suppose the whole world is of the same way of +thinking. Besides, the consciousness of a good action is its own reward." + +"Ye-es," said Jeanne, "I know that it ought to be. It says so in my +copy-book. But I thought that it would be so different." + +"It would be a fine thing if all our acts would receive approbation," +remarked General Butler. "Brass bands and calcium lights are things that +human nature craves for deeds well done, but they are seldom given. That +is, until one dies." + +"Don't be cynical, General," laughed Farragut. "The child will find it +out soon enough." + +"Yes; I suppose so," replied Butler. "Didn't you say something about an +uncle, Admiral?" + +"Yes; that is the next thing in order. She is to stay with him until her +father tells her to return. Her uncle is Benjamin Vance." + +"Whe-ew," whistled the General an expression of blank amazement on his +face. "Did you say Benjamin Vance?" + +"Certainly. Do you know him?" + +"I do," replied the General emphatically. "And this girl is his niece, +and she brings papers down here to Archer? It is about the boldest thing +I ever heard of!" + +"Why! What do you mean?" + +"I'll tell you presently. Come here, girl. Do you hear often from your +uncle?" he asked as Jeanne approached. + +"No, sir. Father has not heard from him in years. He came South long +before I was born, but I remembered that he lived here when I was getting +father to let me bring the papers." + +"Isn't it strange that you should have remembered it just at that time?" +questioned Butler sharply. + +"Why, no," answered the girl regarding him with wide open eyes. "I have +heard my father speak of Uncle Ben all my life, and when New Orleans was +mentioned I always thought of him. So I said that I was coming to see +Uncle Ben when I was truly bringing the papers to Mr. Archer. Father +thought it was best." + +"I see. What is in the papers?" + +"I don't know, sir." Jeanne looked at him so innocently that he was +compelled to believe her. + +"Well, you at least, are innocent, I do believe. Now, child, what else +did you bring? Anything for your uncle?" + +"I brought him some quinine," answered Jeanne half laughing. "Father had +it fixed for me in my lunch basket. He said if I should fall in with the +rebels and they questioned me too closely I was to own up about it. See! +here is the basket. The quinine is right down in this place." + +"I don't understand about the thing," said the General in a low tone to +the Admiral. "The girl is either the most innocent person in the world +and everything is exactly as she says, or she is a consummate actress, +young as she is." + +"General, what in the world do you mean?" queried Farragut. + +"I mean," said General Butler sternly, "that it looks very much to me as +if some mischief were afloat. John Archer is under arrest for disloyalty +to the government. Naturally this makes it bad for the girl." + +"Then," said Farragut gravely, "why did you permit him to have those +papers?" + +"He will not have them long. Did you not notice an Orderly go out after +him?" + +"I saw a man go out, but I thought nothing of it," was the response. + +"That man has his orders. Archer was relieved of the papers as soon as +he left the room. I wanted to get all the evidence against him that I +could hence I did not tell you about the matter at first. I thought that +he might recognize the girl or she him." + +"I believe that you are wrong," said Farragut earnestly. "I know nothing +of course about Archer, but I would stake my life that what the girl says +is true. It would be bold indeed to deliver documents serviceable to the +enemy under our very noses." + +"The very boldness of the scheme would make it successful. Besides, +the fellow's arrest is recent. His accomplices in the North cannot +possibly have heard of it as yet. He has been in the service of the Union +until suspected of furnishing information to the enemy. You can see why +the girl would deliver the papers before us. Another thing, her uncle, +Benjamin Vance, is one of the worst rebels in the city." + +"What!" cried Farragut. + +"Yes." + +"But she is too young to enter into any such scheme." + +"Ah! you do not know these people as I do. They are perfectly unscrupulous +as regards ways and means when it comes to carrying a point. Do you know +the girl's father? I judged not from what you told me of meeting with her." + +"No," admitted Farragut. "But she carried a letter to Commodore Porter +with a few lines from Wallace at Memphis to me. Really you must be +mistaken." + +"Letters can be forged," said Butler sententiously. "And sometimes +wheedled from officers, as we know to our sorrow. She may be but a tool of +persons who hope that her youth will protect her from the consequences. +You must confess that it looks bad. Ah, Johnson," as his Orderly made +his appearance, "did you get them?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Jeanne started forward with a cry of amazement as the Orderly laid upon +the table the very papers which she had given John Archer but a short time +before. + +General Butler spread them before him for inspection. + +"You can see for yourself that they contain important information," he +said to Farragut. "This thing would be all right if Archer were loyal; +otherwise it may show how it happens that the enemy obtains so much +information that it should not. The girl is certainly an emissary of +the Confederates." + +"A what?" cried Jeanne starting forward indignantly, for the General had +raised his voice and she had overheard the last words. "What did you say, +sir?" + +"I said," and the General turned to her abruptly and spoke sternly, "that +unless you can prove otherwise, that you are sent with these papers to +Archer for the rebels." + +"Why, my father sent me," cried the girl blankly. "He is in the employ +of the government and so is Mr. Archer." + +"Archer was until quite recently, but he is now under arrest on strong +suspicion of giving information to the enemy. You see everything is known, +child. Tell the truth. Who sent you here?" + +"My father," said Jeanne again, looking piteously from one to the other. +"Oh, what does he mean, Admiral? What does he mean?" + +"Child," Farragut took her hand kindly. "Tell me truly. What is your +father?" + +"He is in the employ of the government," reiterated Jeanne vehemently. "He +sends communications all over the states, because he told me so. He said +that telegraphs were not to be trusted, nor the mails either. For that +reason people were sent to the different cities with information about +the government." + +"That proves nothing," said the General, "unless it can be substantiated. +Why then do you want to visit your uncle--if you are loyal--when he is +such a rebel?" + +"A rebel?" cried Jeanne recoiling in horror. "Is my uncle a rebel?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CLEARED OF SUSPICION + + +The girl stared at them as if unable to believe the evidence of her senses. + +"A rebel!" she repeated wildly. "My uncle a rebel? It cannot be!" + +Her consternation was so apparent that General Butler almost believed in +her. Farragut's clouded face cleared instantly, and he turned to the other +quickly. + +"Whatever scheme is afoot that girl knows nothing of it," he said. "Why, +Butler, she carries a United States flag in her breast, and you should +hear her talk. I am sure that she is as loyal to the Union as either you +or I." + +"It may be, Admiral. One thing in her favor is the fact that you believe +in her. Let me see! How was it that you said she came from Vicksburg?" + +"Did I not tell you? She came with Captain Leathers from Memphis. The +transport, The Gem, joined us just below Vicksburg. He brought us +supplies, and there is absolutely no question with regard to his +sentiments. They have been proved over and over again." + +"Of course the girl may be all right and everything be just as she says," +said General Butler again. "As I say the thing in her favor is that she +came here to ask for Archer. I suppose it was because she knew no one. +Had she sought her uncle first----" + +"I advised her to come here," said Farragut in a low tone. "I told her +to find Archer first, and then to seek for her uncle, and she acquiesced +without hesitation." + +"I am afraid that she is deep. Of course the whole thing was concocted +in New York City. They could not know that Archer had been arrested, and +this information would have been sent to the Confederates as other plans +have been. I tremble to think of the consequences had these papers fallen +into their hands. Really, traitors are everywhere. I had hoped that the +government had gotten rid of them by this time." + +Meantime Jeanne was just recovering from the shock of learning that her +uncle was a rebel. She had not heard the conversation of the two officers, +and now she came to Admiral Farragut turning to him instinctively in her +distress. + +"What shall I do?" she asked. "I can't go to Uncle Ben if he is a rebel. +Oh, what will father say!" + +"I don't know, child. What shall be done, General? You command here." + +"The girl must go to her uncle," said the General decidedly. "There to +remain until I sift this thing to the bottom. Meantime she must take the +oath of allegiance to the United States." + +"The oath?" cried Jeanne. "Why should I take the oath, General Butler? I +thought that it was only for those whose loyalty to the Union was doubted." + +"That is it precisely," returned General Butler coldly. "If you are +sincere in your avowed devotion to your country, the oath won't hurt you. +If you are not then you will either perjure yourself or else be registered +as an open enemy to the United States." + +Jeanne was dumb with anguish. She, Jeanne Vance, an open enemy of the +United States! Of the country for which she was ready to give her life! +She gave one stricken glance at the austere man before her, and burst +into tears. + +"Come, come, General," said Farragut laying a kindly hand on the girl's +bowed head, "you are too severe, aren't you?" + +"Not at all. Every man, woman and child in this city must take this oath, +or be known as an enemy of the Union. It works no hardship if one is +loyal, and acts as a restraining power on those who are not. The authority +of the Union must be recognized while the city is under my charge." + +"Take the oath, child. That is, if you can do so conscientiously. But +whatever be the consequences accept them as a brave girl, and perjure +yourself for no man," advised Farragut. + +"I will," said Jeanne chokingly. "It isn't because of the oath that I +feel bad, Admiral. It is because my loyalty to the Union has been doubted. +Do you think that I would carry this," and she drew the flag from the +bosom of her dress, "if I were not for the Union? I kiss its folds each +night, and with it before me, I pray for the success of my country." She +kissed it passionately as she spoke. + +"That action speaks for itself," remarked General Butler with such a +change of tone that Jeanne looked up hastily. "No rebel woman or girl +that I have ever known would kiss that flag. I have hard work to make them +even walk under it. Forgive me, child, for doubting you, but treachery +lurks under so many different forms that I am forced to suspect even +children." + +"Suppose," suggested the Admiral, relieved that the General had come to +his way of thinking, "suppose you begin at the beginning and tell us all +about this business. How many have you in the family?" + +"Four," answered Jeanne promptly, a little comfort creeping into her +heart at the change in the General's manner. "Father who works for the +government, mother who is in the Monarch Relief Association, and Dick who +is in the army." + +"Your brother is in the Union army?" queried the General. + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is easily verified," said the General, making a note of the fact. +"Now how did you come to be sent down here?" + +Jeanne recounted the circumstances of the affair rapidly not even omitting +her mother's parting words of counsel. Both men listened with close +attention. + +"And you knew nothing whatever of your Uncle Ben?" asked Butler when she +had finished. + +"No, sir; father has not heard from him in many years. He will be grieved +to learn that he is a rebel," and her eyes filled with tears. + +"I have no doubt of it. Now, my little girl, I am going to send you to +your uncle until I can look up the truth of your story." + +"Couldn't you send me home?" asked the girl wistfully, a sudden yearning +possessing her for the refuge of her mother's arms. + +"I will soon. There are dangers by land and by sea, and, as your father +told you to wait until you heard from him, I think that it would be wise +to do so. It will be best for you to see for yourself what manner of man +your uncle is so that you can tell your father. Good-bye," and he held +out his hand. "Come in to see me sometimes while you are here." + +"Good-bye," said Jeanne, shaking hands with him as in duty bound. She gave +him a look of reproach and then turned to Farragut. + +"This has been a hard trial for you, child," said the Admiral. "You have +come through with colors flying though. I believe that you always will." + +"It has taught me," said the girl with quivering lips, "that there are +worse things than cannon balls and grape shot. I would rather face +Vicksburg a dozen times than to go through this again." + +"Don't take it too much to heart." Farragut patted her hand with great +gentleness. "It was a severe ordeal, but truth will always prevail. Just +think what it would have been had you really been guilty. Your conscience +at least was clear." + +"I did not like Mr. Archer," said Jeanne musingly, loth to leave this +friend. "I told Mrs. Butler so. I did not want to give him the papers." + +"Why didn't you say so?" cried the General. + +"Because you had received him here and I thought that of course he was all +right. It would have been presumption on my part to have spoken against +him when my father sent me to him, and I did not know anything against him +really. Besides, I did not dream that any one could doubt my loyalty." + +"You must forgive me," said the General humbly, seeing how deeply the girl +was hurt. "You don't know what I have to put up with or you would. When +you have been here a short time you will realize the situation better than +you do now. When you do, will you come to me and be friends?" + +"Yes;" and Jeanne smiled a little for the first time. + +"Good-bye," and the Admiral extended his hand as the girl prepared to +accompany the Orderly detailed by the General to conduct her to her +uncle's house. "I hope to see you again soon." + +"I hope so too," answered Jeanne. Then as she clasped his hand she cried +half hysterically. "Oh, Admiral, I am afraid to go. I am afraid!" + +"No, you're not, child. You are tired and nervous. Be brave. Meet your +uncle as if nothing had happened. I dare say that you will find him kind +and good." + +"But he is a rebel," sobbed Jeanne in such heartrending tones that both +men smiled involuntarily. + +"Well, some of them are very good men," said Farragut. "They are mistaken +in their views and need teaching a great many things, but otherwise they +are a warm-hearted people. I am from the South myself, you know." + +"Are you?" asked the girl surprised, yet she had wondered at his soft +Southern voice. + +"Yes; a Tennesseean. You seem to think that I am all right." + +"You are," replied Jeanne so heartily that Farragut laughed outright. "But +Uncle Ben didn't take New Orleans." + +"Perhaps you can get his services for us yet, and he may do something +better than to take New Orleans. That may be your work here." + +"I doubt it," spoke General Butler emphatically. "There is no rebel so +unregenerate as a renegade Yankee. There may be some excuse for those +born in this section of the country, but for a Yankee who embraces the +pernicious doctrine of secession there is none. The Orderly waits, my +child." + +Farewells were again exchanged, and Jeanne followed reluctantly after her +guide. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN UNEXPECTED GREETING + + +The Orderly called a cab and assisted Jeanne into it, putting her satchel +and basket beside her. Then springing in he gave the order and they were +off. + +Past Lafayette Square with its city hall, churches and Odd Fellows Hall +which were grouped round it with fine effect they went, and on into +that portion of the city that was known as the Faubourg Marigny whose +residences were built with more architectural generosity, broader spaces, +longer vistas, ampler gardens and with more sacrifices to the picturesque +than the part of the city through which they had just passed. + +At last the cab turned into the courtyard of a massive brick building. +It was a true Spanish building with broad doorways and windows, the +roof of which was a solid terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade. The +establishment had all the privacy of isolation and seclusion and was a +charming spot. The gardens were very large and spacious, and fragrant +with the blossoms from the magnolia groves. The avenue to the house was +shaded with orange trees that later would be redolent with perfume and +beautiful beyond description. Fruit trees were everywhere. Pomegranate, +peach, banana, fig, pear interspersed with rose trees and jasmine whose +odors ravished the senses. + +The cab swept in an extensive circle round the courtyard to the carriage +step before the broad doorway. A tall gentleman, elegantly appareled, +stood leaning in an easy attitude against one of the pillars of the broad +piazza smoking a cigar. He advanced to meet the arrivals as the Orderly +threw open the door of the cab and handed out the girl. + +"General Butler presents his compliments to Mr. and Madame Vance," he +said, with a deep bow, "and begs to introduce to them their niece, Miss +Vance of New York." + +"My niece!" exclaimed the gentleman giving Jeanne a look of astonishment. +"I have none unless my brother has a daughter. Are you Dick's child?" + +"Yes," replied Jeanne, her heart beating quickly. "You are Uncle Ben, +aren't you?" with a trace of wistfulness in her voice. + +"I am Benjamin Vance at least," was the answer. "Come in. I don't know +your name, but you are welcome if you are Dick's daughter." + +"I am Richard Vance's daughter," replied Jeanne with some dignity. + +"Then you are certainly my niece, though what in the world you are doing +here is more than I can see. Dick is well, is he? But come in. You shall +tell me all about it later." + +He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and without a glance or word +for the Orderly drew her up the brick stairs and through the hall, whose +stairway was beautiful enough for a palace with its elaborate, fantastic, +hand-wrought iron railing, and on to the door of a salon. A beautiful +woman swept graciously forward to meet them. She was very dark with +brilliant black eyes and silky hair of raven hue. Her manner was easy, +graceful and rather impassioned, and her features showed unmistakably her +French descent. + +"Clarisse," said the gentleman, "this is my niece who has honored us with +a visit. I think that I have told you of my brother, Richard. She is his +daughter and is from New York City." + +"Mais!" exclaimed the lady, with a laugh and speaking with a decidedly +French accent. "You surprise me! I knew not that you had a niece. Why did +you not tell me? It is one bad husband you are not to tell me of the dear +demoiselle. You are welcome, child. She resembles you, mon ami," taking +Jeanne's face between her hands and giving her a long look. "We shall be +great friends, my dear. Is it not so?" + +"Yes;" Jeanne's lips quivered and her eyes filled suddenly with tears +at this unexpected greeting. Her mission had ended so differently from +the way she had anticipated;--the doubt of her loyalty and the knowledge +that her uncle was a rebel had filled her heart with misgivings so that +this welcome was almost more than she could bear. But as this gleam of +sunshine comforted her, she steeled herself against its influence and +drew herself up bravely. + +"I must tell you something," she said, "before you welcome me too warmly. +I am for the Union." + +She did not dare to look at them as she spoke. Her thought was that +they must know her principles before going further. She was homesick +and longing for love and tenderness, but not for one moment would she +receive them under false pretenses. A glance flashed from husband to +wife and then a clear, silvery laugh rang out as the lady caught her +to her. + +"You dear little Yankee! you are too ridiculous for anything! Did you +think we would turn you out because you were not a rebel? Well, we are +rebels, my dear, but as we have to stand that odious, uncouth General +Butler of yours I think we won't mind a little thing like you. Come now, +and I will take you to your room and you shall rest. Then you shall tell +us why you have come all this way to see us at such a time." + +Jeanne returned her caresses with fervor, and abandoned herself to the +delight of being fondled and petted again as only children can do who have +been deprived of endearments after being accustomed to them. + +"They are nice people," she whispered as the lady left her in a cool quiet +room. "I wonder if it is wrong to like them? But it is father's brother, +and I ought to love them. Oh, I do wish they were not rebels! How can they +be traitors when they are so good!" + +After she had rested her uncle's wife came for her. + +"You are not weary now, are you?" she asked in her soft, caressing voice. +"You looked so fatigued, child. Tell me, what is your name?" + +"Jeanne." + +"Jeanne? Oh, you darling! That is French, isn't it? I did not know that +the Americans ever named their children so. Jeanne! It is delightful." + +"And you are Aunt Clarisse?" + +"Ma foi, Jeanne! Do not call me anything so prim. Call me 'Cherie.' Aunt +Clarisse indeed!" She laughed gaily. + +"Cherie! what does it mean?" asked the girl wonderingly, gazing at the +bright face above her with delight. "It should be something brilliant +and sweet to suit you, I think. Something like rich red roses heavy with +perfume and sweetness." + +"You little flatterer! And you call yourself a Yankee? No, no; Yankees +do not make speeches like that. You are French as your name is." + +"But I like to be a Yankee," cried Jeanne. + +"Be what you like, little one, so long as you are as sweet as you are. +But now let us go down to your uncle, after you take one little cup of +coffee. So! Now we are ready." + +The two descended to the drawing-room arm in arm, and there Jeanne related +all the circumstances that led to her coming to New Orleans, concealing +nothing. Her deep love and attachment to her country glowed through the +narrative like a golden thread. The lady and gentleman listened in silence +until she related General Butler's doubt of herself, when her uncle +sprang to his feet with an exclamation. + +"The scoundrel!" he cried. "To subject you to such treatment. And we are +helpless. Yes; we are helpless. Day after day some new act of injustice +comes to our ears and we must submit. But our time is coming, and I fancy +that Butler won't relish what his high handed proceedings will bring him." + +"He is truly a beast without the instincts of a gentleman," cried Madame +Vance, excitedly. "That is our name for him, Jeanne. 'Beast' Butler, and +well he deserves it." + +Jeanne moved uneasily. + +"It wasn't pleasant," she said, "and it was a new thing to me to have my +loyalty questioned, but I think he must have to do that way. You are so +against him, you know, that if he were not careful you might rise up and +drive him out. And the Union must have New Orleans. Father says that the +rebellion can never be put down unless the Mississippi River is in our +possession." + +"True for you, my little Yankee. And that is just where the Union will +fail. They did take New Orleans through the cowardice of its defenders, +but they'll never get Vicksburg. And so long as we can hold that the +Confederacy is safe. But you say that you ran past the Vicksburg +batteries. Tell that again." + +Jeanne retold that portion of her story to please him. + +"I am glad that you are here, child," remarked Mr. Vance when she had +finished. "But I am surprised at Brother Dick's sending you to face such +dangers. He always was an enthusiast in anything that he undertook, and +undervalued life if it stood in the way of accomplishing his object." + +"Father did not know that it was so risky," said Jeanne unwilling to hear +aught against her father. "He would not have sent me if he had. Besides I +wanted to come, and I am glad that I did come, now that I have met you +and Cherie." + +"Yes; I am glad for you to know her too," said Uncle Ben, his Yankee +tones sounding in flat contrast with his wife's sibilant ones. "I always +intended taking her North to see Dick's folks, but just as we were ready +to go this war came on and here we are now at the mercy of that Yankee." + +"But you are a Yankee too, Uncle Ben," said Jeanne bluntly. + +"Ages ago, little one. He has gotten over all that now," said Madame +Vance softly. "After you have been with us awhile you will get over your +rank Unionism too." + +Jeanne shook her head decidedly. + +"Dear Cherie," she said, "nothing could ever make me disloyal to my flag. +See! I always carry it with me." + +She drew the flag from her bosom and waved it proudly before her. Madame +Vance gasped, and her husband's face darkened perceptibly. + +"Little one, you will not carry it while here, will you? To please me, +dear, never take it out again." + +"Oh, but I must," said Jeanne. "I promised my own dear mother that I would +look at it every night and I must keep my promise. I wish I could please +you, Cherie, but I cannot. But I will do this much. I will not take it out +before you any more. I ought to respect your feelings, I know." + +"So much gained," murmured the lady aside to her husband. To Jeanne she +only said quietly: + +"Thank you, dear. You are an amiable little thing, and you shall have my +favorite darky for your maid while you are here. I will call Snowball and +she will help you to dress for dinner." + +"Snowball," echoed Jeanne. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT + + +"Yes; Snowball," repeated Madame. "A quaint name, is it not? She is so +black that I fancy that was the reason it was given her. She bore it when +your uncle bought her. She is very bright, and a master hand at waiting +upon one." + +Jeanne made no further remark but eagerly scanned the face of the darky +as she entered. She was indeed very black, and her shining ivories +were always visible in a smile. Good nature was written all over her +countenance, but Jeanne could see no resemblance to Tenny. + +"She may not be the one after all," she mused. + +"Snowball," said Madame. "Miss Jeanne will be your young lady now. Your +duty will be to attend to her and to look after her clothes while she is +here." + +"Yes'm;" Snowball dropped a curtsy. "Does yer want me ter do anything now, +little missy?" + +"Yes; help her to dress for dinner," replied Madame Vance speaking for +Jeanne. "We dine at eight, my dear." + +Jeanne followed the black to the room which had been given her, and +Snowball proceeded to brush her hair. + +"Snowball," said the girl suddenly, "was your mother named Tennessee? And +did they call her Tenny for short?" + +"Bress yer soul, honey, yes," cried Snowball letting the brush fall in +her astonishment. "How kum yer ter know dat?" + +"She was on the boat with me when I came from Memphis," replied Jeanne. +"She told me all about losing you and how much she thought of you, but +she thought that Colonel Peyton bought you." + +"Yes'm, he did. But de Kuhnel went to de wah an' he say he hab too many +darkies, so he sell off all but de ones he hab de longes', an' Massa Vance +bought me. What my ole mammy say?" + +"She loves you very much, and she misses you greatly, Snowball. I wish +I could buy you and set you free. Then you could go North to live with +her." + +"Wish yer could. I'd laik dat. An' I'd laik de bes' in de wohld ter see +my ole mammy ergain. How'd she look, missy?" + +Jeanne told the girl all that she could recall about Tenny. How she looked +and what she had said. Snowball's eyes glistened as she talked. + +"Yer got a good heart, little missy," she said as Jeanne paused for +breath. "You is de bestest lill' lady dat I eber seed. Snowball'll lub +ter wait on yer." + +And Jeanne soon found that it was really a labor of love to the girl, +and they grew to be fast friends despite the difference in color and +condition. In fact she soon found that she felt more at home with the +colored girl than she did with her aunt in spite of the caresses which +the latter lavished upon her. + +The days passed into weeks, and the weeks into months until two had rolled +by and Jeanne was still in New Orleans. She had grown pale and thin and +worn. She had no illness but suffered the bad effects of the wasting +climate. In all the time she had been there no word had come to her from +her parents, and a great longing for home possessed her. + +"Why does not my father write for me?" she murmured one morning as she sat +listlessly before the window. "What can have happened? Something is wrong +I know, or he would have sent for me." + +"Why so triste, my love?" asked her aunt entering the room. + +"Cherie," and Jeanne returned the caress that Madame bestowed upon her. +"I am wishing for my mother and home. I wonder why I have not heard from +my father." + +"It is strange," admitted the lady. "And yet, child, when one considers +the state of the country and how the Yankees seize mails and telegrams, +and exercise such a rigorous espionage over them one cannot wonder after +all. I have no doubt that he has written, but that his letters are being +detained for some reason by 'Beast' Butler." + +Jeanne made no reply. She had ceased for some time saying anything when +her aunt launched forth in a tirade against the Yankees. She was as +staunch a patriot as ever, but, without words, it had been borne in +upon her mind that her sentiments were unwelcome to her uncle and aunt, +and that it would be better for her not to give utterance to them. + +"Where is Snowball?" asked Madame Vance presently. "I wish to take you for +a drive, and you are not dressed. That darky gets more shiftless every +day. Where is she?" + +"Hyar I is, missus." Snowball started up from behind a huge brocaded chair +so quickly that she overturned a low table upon which stood a ewer that +had contained orangeade. A crash followed, and the culprit stood looking +at the fragments of the pitcher with consternation written over her face. + +"Come here," and Madame's tone was so stern that Jeanne looked at her +startled. "Forty lashes you shall have for this." + +"Please'm, missus, lemme off dis time. Clar ter goodness I didn't go ter +do it." + +"Please, please," said Jeanne tearfully. She had heard the sound of +whippings once or twice, but her aunt had always taken her away from the +sound immediately, and her soul sickened at the thought of them. "I could +not bear to have Snowball whipped, Cherie." + +"She must be punished," said the lady harshly. "Such carelessness cannot +be tolerated for a moment." + +"But isn't there some other way?" cried Jeanne. "Do, do, dear Cherie, use +some other way of punishment." + +"Jeanne, I beg you to say no more. Am I not capable of administering +the affairs of my own household? I want no Yankee notions down here. +I understand what she needs." + +Jeanne did not dare to reply. She had never before seen her aunt angry +although she knew that the blacks were very much afraid of her. Snowball +was taken down into the yard, and soon Jeanne heard the most fearful +screams as if a human being was suffering the utmost that a mortal could +endure of agony. + +She could not bear the cries. She ran down the stairs and out into the +yard where she beheld the girl stretched upon the ground on her face, her +feet tied to a stake, her hands held by a black man, her back uncovered +from her head to her heels. Her aunt was standing by directing a burly +negro in his task of applying the lash. + +The girl's back was covered with blood. Every stroke of the instrument +of torture tore up the flesh in long dark ridges. With a cry of horror +Jeanne caught the man's arm as it was about to descend for another stroke. + +"Stop," she cried. "For the love of mercy, stop!" + +"Go into the house, girl," commanded Madame Vance in terrible tones. "Who +are you that you should interfere with my bidding? Have I not the right +to do with my own slave as I wish? I want none of your abolitionism here." + +"But she has been whipped enough," cried Jeanne. "Surely it is enough. I +cannot bear it." + +She burst into tears. For a moment Madame's face was convulsed with fury, +and then a wonderful change came over it. She was once again the smiling, +affectionate lady that had greeted the girl on her arrival. + +"There!" she said going to Jeanne and putting her arms about her. "You +shall have your way. You see that 'Cherie' can refuse you nothing. Put up +your strap, Jeff. I will let the girl off this time because Miss Jeanne +wishes it. But see that you are more careful next time, Snowball. You +might not get off so easily." + +"Yes, missus," responded the sobbing creature as she was helped upon her +feet. + +"Now come, Jeanne, and we will go for our drive. You have no idea how +troublesome these blacks are, my dear. One has to keep an iron hand upon +them to hold them in subjection. But of course you are not used to them." + +"No," said Jeanne shrinking a little from her caresses. "We don't have +slavery at the North. I never felt so thankful of it before. Poor things! +Poor things!" + +Madame Vance's brow darkened, but she smoothed the girl's hair softly. + +"And aren't you going to forgive your poor 'Cherie'? Are you going to +turn against her because of a little whipping? You are unjust, Jeanne. +We who have the blacks to deal with know more of this matter than you +do. Besides did I not give it up when you asked me?" + +"Forgive me," answered Jeanne trying to feel the same toward the beautiful +woman as she had before, but too full of the recent horror to do so. "I am +not used to such things, Cherie, and it will take some time for me to get +over them." + +"We will say no more about it, you quaint one, but go for our drive." + +And soon they were out in the bright sunshine, the lady pointing out +places of interest as she had often done before, but it seemed to the +girl that she was trying to impress upon her mind the location of some +of the streets particularly. + +"Now," said Madame after they had returned to the villa and were partaking +of refreshments, "now you shall show me again the lunch basket with +its curious hiding-place. How clever your father must be, child! I long to +know him." + +"I wish we could go to him," sighed Jeanne as she obediently brought the +basket and showed once more the place where the quinine had been concealed. + +"Perhaps we may soon, who knows?" said the lady gaily, examining the +basket closely notwithstanding her liveliness. "I would tell you a +secret--but no; not now." + +"What, Cherie?" cried the girl with eagerness. "Is it about my father?" + +"Now, now, curious one!" madame shook her finger playfully at her. "Well +then, I will tell. I can refuse you nothing, petite. You wind yourself +about my heart so. Listen, and you shall hear the grand news. Your uncle +and I wonder too why your father does not write. We know that you have +a great desire for your home, and so we are going to take you there." + +"Home! Oh, Cherie!" Jeanne sprang to the lady and embraced her +rapturously, "Home! I am so glad! so glad!" + +"Is it not grand, little one? And we go together to see your clever +father and your beautiful mother. But your uncle has much to do first. +I will tell you more. He has deeded you all his property. His houses, +his carriages, his slaves, his horses, his money, in fact everything +which he possesses. Is he not kind?" + +"To me?" and Jeanne looked at her in bewilderment. "But why, Cherie?" + +"Because he thinks so much of you, and then too you are for the Union, and +the 'Beast' will not take them from you as he would from us." + +"But why should General Butler wish to take your property from you?" asked +the girl, who knew nothing of the Confiscation Act. In fact knowledge of +any kind had been carefully kept from her except such as reflected upon +the North. + +"I do not know, child. Who does?" shrugging her shoulders. "The vagaries +of the 'Beast' are not to be kept up with. But it does not matter. You +will have them and we will be pleased. We have no children, you know." + +"I know," said Jeanne kissing her. She could not understand the matter. +Her uncle had never shown any particular fondness for her, and in fact +seemed to shun her. "You are very kind to me, Cherie." + +"So kind that you would do one little thing for 'Cherie'?" asked the lady, +flashing a quick glance at her. + +"Certainly, I would," replied the girl unwarily. + +"Then listen, petite, and you shall hear how you can do a great service +for your uncle and me. Draw closer, my pet. None must hear what I would +tell you." + +Jeanne came close to her side and waited to hear what her aunt had to say. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A VICTIM OF DECEIT + + +"I do not know," began Madame in her soft voice, "whether I have told you +that I have a brother. Have I?" + +"No, Cherie." + +"I have, petite, in the Confederate Army. He is very dear to me. A few +days ago I learned that he was wounded and ill. He is not far from +the city, and he lies in a rude hospital tent without clothing or the +necessary food and medicine. Is it not hard, little one, to think of being +in the midst of plenty while my only brother is destitute?" + +"Yes," answered Jeanne with ready sympathy, "it is." + +"I thought that you would think so," and the lady smoothed her hair +gently. "Suppose that it were your own brother, Dick. I know that you +would do almost anything to help him, and I feel the same about Auguste. I +tried vainly to get a pass to go to him to take him some necessities, +but ma foi! That beast of a Yankee General will not give me one. I am +distressed. I suffer, but of what avail is it? I come to you, my little +one, for aid." + +"To me?" Jeanne looked her surprise. "What can I do, Cherie?" + +"You are so brave. You have so much cleverness. Could I do it I would not +ask it of you. But what would you! I am a coward. I faint at the least +noise. I lose my wits; and so, child, I want you to take some medicine +and food to my Auguste." + +"I to take it? Why how could I do it?" + +"'Tis easy to one who has the courage, petite. I would send Feliciane +with you. 'Tis only to elude the sentinels some dark night and once beyond +them the rest is nothing. Feliciane knows where a boat is hidden on Lake +Ponchartrain, and she would row you to the other side where you would +be met by one of my brother's comrades who would receive the things. +Then you step once more into the boat, and Mais! there you are safe and +sound in the city again." + +"Why could not Feliciane go alone?" questioned Jeanne. + +"My child, she has not the intelligence. One must demand nothing of these +creatures that calls for the exercise of reason. Will you go, my pet?" + +"Would it be wrong, Cherie?" + +"Wrong to carry food to a wounded soldier? Why should you think so, child?" + +"Then it is nothing against the government?" + +"No; I would not ask it of you if it were. Will you please me, Jeanne? +Your uncle would like it too." + +"Yes, Cherie, I will," said Jeanne after a moment's thought. "If it is +only to take some food to a poor soldier it cannot be wrong. When do you +wish me to go?" + +"Dearest, to-night. There is no moon and it will be easier to elude the +guards. I may use your basket, may I not? It will not be so heavy to +carry." + +"If you wish," assented Jeanne. "But it will not hold much." + +"I only want to send a few, a very few things. Just what he needs most +to put heart into him, poor fellow! And then when you come back, we will +plan our journey to your home. Oh, we will have the grand time!" + +The day wore away. Madame Vance talked volubly about the girl's home and +asked her so many questions concerning it that Jeanne was wrought up to +the highest pitch. At last the darkness fell. With it came a drizzling +rain and to the tenderly nurtured girl it seemed that this would put a +stop to the enterprise; but no. + +"Could anything be more fortunate," cried Madame who was in the highest +spirits. "Nothing could be better for our purpose. Ah, petite, you will +outwit the Yankee soldiers yet." + +Jeanne looked troubled. The matter had not presented itself in that light +before. + +"I am not doing wrong, am I, Cherie?" she asked dubiously. "It is nothing +against the government, is it?" + +"To be sure not. How quaint you are to ask that again! Would I have you +to do wrong?" + +The preparations were finally completed. Robed in dark waterproof garments +Jeanne took the basket given her by her father and, accompanied by +Feliciane, a mulatto woman, set forth, again upon a mission. But this +time the girl was downcast in spirit, and had not the lofty exaltation of +an approving conscience. + +The two walked in silence through the dark streets of the city. The +woman glided swiftly along as if accustomed to the journey, making many +devious windings and turnings. Jeanne's progress was slower and the +mulatto often had to pause to wait until she could catch up with her. + +"Missy be keerful hyar," whispered the woman, when at length the outskirts +of the city were reached. "Keep close ter de trees." + +Jeanne obeyed. The sentinel's lonely figure could scarcely be discerned +in the darkness. Unconscious of their proximity the man was singing +softly to himself as he patrolled his post steadily. To the girl it +seemed as though her heart beats must betray their presence. The black +touched her hand gently and, as the guard turned to retrace his steps, +they glided silently past him, and were lost in the darkness. The skiff +was found, and the strong steady strokes of the woman soon pulled them +out upon the waters of Lake Ponchartrain. + +"We got by all right, lill' missy, didn't we?" chuckled she. + +"Yes," assented Jeanne. "Is it far, Feliciane?" + +"A long way," was the response. "We won't git back 'tel de mohnin'." + +"Until morning?" echoed Jeanne in dismay. "Will we have to be out in this +rain all that time?" + +"Yes, honey. It's bes' fer it ter rain. De Yanks can't see yer den. Missus +she laikes fer it ter rain when she go." + +"Does she ever go?" asked Jeanne sitting up very straight. "I thought that +she was afraid to go." + +"De Madame ain't 'fraid ob nuffin," was the emphatic reply. "She usen ter +go often. She done carried heaps ob things ter de rebs." + +"But it has been because of her brother, Feliciane," said Jeanne, gently +trying not to condemn her aunt too severely. + +"Huh brudder? What brudder? She ain't got no brudder. What you talkin' +'bout?" + +"Oh, Feliciane, aren't we carrying food and medicine to her poor wounded +brother, Auguste?" + +"What makes you think dat, chile? Massa Auguste killed long time ago when +de wah fust beginned. 'Couhse we ain't takin' things ter huh brudder. +We's carryin' news ter de Massa Gin'ral dat de Yanks gwine ter 'tack him." + +"Then," said Jeanne bitterly. "I have been fooled. I will give no aid to +the enemy. Turn this boat back, Feliciane." + +"Not ef I knows myself, honey. I done want no whoppin'. Madame Vance sent +me, an' I'se gwine ter do what she say. What'd yer kum fer ef yer didn't +want ter holpe dem?" + +"Because I did not know what I was doing. Madame told me it was to take +food to her wounded brother." + +"She's a great one fer pullin' de wool ober de eyes," chuckled the +negress. "Missus kum nigh gittin' ketched de las' time she kummed, so +den she sent you." + +"Oh!" Jeanne sat very still, her heart heavy with what she had heard. +Truthful herself, the knowledge that her aunt could stoop to such +duplicity filled her with anguish. Her eyes were fast opening to the +fact that the sweetness of the lady and her honeyed words masked a cruel, +treacherous nature, and unaccustomed as she was to deceit of any sort +she was weighed down by the discovery. + +"Feliciane," she said coaxingly. "I will give you more money than you ever +had in all your life before if you will turn this boat back." + +"No, missy. Yer can't hiah me ter do nuffin ob dat kine," came the +relentless tones of the darky. "Feliciane knows what's good fer huh, an' +she's gwine ter do it." + +"Well, my basket shall not go at any rate," cried Jeanne and she caught it +up to throw it overboard. But the darky seized her arm in a strong grip +and took the basket from her. + +"Be quiet, missy," she said, "er I'll hab ter settle yer. An' missus won't +keer nuther. She done laik yer nohow." + +Jeanne could do nothing in the woman's powerful clasp, and was compelled +to relinquish her hold on the basket. Placing it behind her the negress +took the oars again and resumed her rowing. Silence fell between the two +and steadily they drew nearer to the farther shore. At last after what +seemed hours to Jeanne the keel of the boat grated upon the sand and the +woman sprang out and drew the skiff upon the bank. + +"Come," she said to Jeanne and the girl mechanically followed her. + +"Halt! who goes there?" came the challenge. + +"A frien'," responded Feliciane. "Done yer know me, sah?" + +"Feliciane," exclaimed a voice joyfully. "You are a jewel. Have you +anything for us? Who is with you?" + +"Yes, sah; heah in dis basket missus sent. It's all erbout a 'tack what +de Yanks is a-gwine ter make on you folks. Missus kum moughty nigh bein' +kotched de las' time, an' so she sent de lill' missy with me." + +"Well, here are some letters. You won't be more than able to get back by +daylight. Are you too tired to make it to-night, Feliciane?" + +"No, sah. Missus 'spects me ter do it." + +"Well, good-bye. Thank your mistress for us, and tell her the boys in gray +will soon drive the Yankees out of the city, and she won't have this to +do much longer." + +"I'll tell huh, sah." + +Jeanne still silent went back to the boat. Every hope that she had held +that there was really a wounded brother of Madame's had died during the +interview, and the lady was meeting with that fierce arraignment in the +mind of the girl that youth always gives when for the first time the mask +of hypocrisy is torn from a loved face. + +The dawn was streaking the gray sky with crimson when they reached the +city again. The rain had ceased and the stormy night was to be succeeded +by a fair day. Jeanne's face showed white and stern in the gray of the +morning as she walked slowly by the black's side. Her lips were compressed +together in a straight line for she had determined that Madame Vance +should render an account of her duplicity to her. + +Presently Feliciane uttered an exclamation of alarm, and thrust the +package that the rebel had given her into Jeanne's hands. + +"Run, missy, run," she cried. "De Yanks am a-kumin'." + +Involuntarily the girl quickened her steps, but she had gone but a short +distance when she was caught by the shoulder, and brought to a standstill. + +"You are under arrest," said the gruff voice of a soldier. "Give me that +package you have." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BEFORE GENERAL BUTLER AGAIN + + +Jeanne handed the package to the soldier without a word. The man took it +and then said in a harsh manner: + +"Follow me. It seems to me that you are beginning mighty young." + +Still silent the girl trudged wearily along beside him. She was very tired +and the way to the Custom-House was long. But she uttered no complaint. +Far bitterer to bear than fatigue was the thought that she, Jeanne Vance, +had carried information to the enemies of her country. + +The Custom-House where General Butler had established his permanent +official headquarters was finally reached, and she was conducted through +the court-room where Major Bell was dispensing justice to a smaller room +adjoining the office of the Commander. A number of persons were in the +apartment awaiting the coming of the General. + +"Has the General come in yet?" asked her captor of an Orderly. + +"No; but we expect him every moment. Is it anything of importance?" + +"I think so. I captured a young girl who has been beyond the lines, and +has returned with a package of letters from the Johnnies. The other boys +gave chase to the negro woman who was with her, but this is the main one, +I guess. I think the General ought to see the letters immediately." + +"By all means. I will tell him as soon as he comes, so that he will attend +to you at once. There are a number waiting this morning." + +Faint and weary Jeanne sank into the seat assigned her, and waited +apathetically the summons which were to lead her to the General's +presence. It came soon and she was led into the office where the General +sat behind a long table on which lay a pistol. + +This was the man's sole precaution against assassination, and was used +only after the discovery of one or two plots to kill him. There were +several of his staff with him in the room, but the girl saw only the +stern face of the Commander. He gave a start of surprise as his eyes +fell upon her. + +"You?" he exclaimed. "Are you the girl who has been caught bringing +contraband letters into the city? Child, child, I am surprised." + +Jeanne's lips quivered and she turned very pale, but she only said: + +"Yes, sir; I did it." + +"And you are the girl who professed such devotion to the cause of your +country? You, who carried the flag upon your person, and kissed it to show +your patriotism? I am more than surprised! I am grieved!" + +"Don't," exclaimed Jeanne, her utterance choked with sobs. "Oh, sir, I +do love my country, but I am not worthy to carry its flag any longer. Take +it." She drew the flag from her dress and laid it before him. + +Her distress was so evident, so real that General Butler's glance softened. + +"If you feel like that," he said not unkindly, "perhaps you will tell me +the truth about the matter." + +"Gladly," cried Jeanne eagerly. "I will tell you anything that you ask." + +"These letters prove that there has been communication exchanged before. +Have you ever been on a like expedition?" + +"No, sir; I do not know that you will believe me when I say that I did not +know what I was doing when I went on this errand. But I did not. I would +rather have died than to have given aid to the enemies of the Union; and +yet I did it." + +"Suppose you tell me just how it happened," suggested the General. "I will +gladly hear any extenuating circumstances that you may give, for I am loth +to believe that you are guilty of treachery." + +With many tears Jeanne related her story. "I can never forgive myself," +she concluded mournfully. "I deserve to be punished." + +"What was in the basket that you carried over?" + +"There was some medicine, quinine, I think, jellies, and other delicacies." + +"There were no documents of any kind? Think well, child." + +"I did not see any, but Feliciane told me, and the rebel soldier also, +that there was news of an attack to be made upon General Thompson. I am +convinced that the intelligence was concealed in the false bottom of my +basket. You remember where I carried the quinine, sir?" Then she told how +her aunt had examined the basket and suggested its use. + +"Beyond doubt it carried the information," remarked Butler. "General +Thompson with his men is just beyond our lines. I have known for some +time that communication had been going on between the citizens and the +soldiers, and have been keeping a sharp lookout. Still they managed to +elude my vigilance some way. The Vances are among the ring leaders. Why +have you remained here so long?" he asked, suddenly. "Why have you not +returned to your father?" + +"I have not heard from him," said Jeanne, her tears flowing afresh. "In +all this long time I have not heard one word." + +"That is very strange!" The General looked thoughtful. "Of course in +the vicinity surrounding us, and in all the country between here and +Richmond the telegraphs and mails are in the hands of the Confederates. +But a letter could come safely by the sea route. I am in communication +with Washington continually. There must be something wrong. Have you +written to him?" + +"Often and often. Uncle Ben mailed the letters for me. My aunt told me +yesterday that they were going to take me home soon." + +"After hoodwinking you the way she has, do you believe it? There is +something here that I do not understand. I believe that you are truthful, +child, and have been victimized for some purpose. I will have to watch +those people more closely." + +"But how could I consent to do what I have?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, I will +never forgive myself." + +"Older ones than you might have been deceived," comforted the General. "I +have read that 'under every flower there lurks a serpent'; and where there +is so much sweetness and amiability there is ground for the suspicion +that the reptile will sooner or later make his appearance. You must +guard against such seductive measures, my child. They are more to be +feared than the most violent opposition. Your uncle has a great deal of +property, has he not?" + +"Why, yes," said Jeanne. "But do you know, General, that the queer part +of it is that he has given it all to me?" + +"Ha, ha!" roared the General. "Another attempt to evade the Confiscation +Act, eh? And you did not know the reason?" + +"My aunt said that you would take it from them because they were rebels, +and that as I was a Unionist you would not touch it if it were mine." + +"I think that I'll make that a boomerang that shall rebound on their own +heads," remarked the General with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, child, what +are you going to do?" + +"I do not know, sir. I wish I could go home." + +"Would you feel very badly if I sent you back to your uncle's?" + +"Must I go there?" Jeanne uttered a cry of dismay. "I don't believe that +I can, General Butler. I don't feel as if I ever wanted to see either of +them again." + +"But if you could help me?" suggested the General. "You might, Jeanne." + +"If I could be of any service," said Jeanne bravely though every feature +showed her dislike to the suggestion. "I will go." + +"You are a brave little girl," said the Commander with appreciation. "I +believe in you thoroughly, child, else I would not ask this of you." + +"I am glad that you trust me," said Jeanne gratefully, her last fear of +him vanishing. "I had begun to believe that I could never trust myself +again." + +"Our truest strength lies in knowing our weaknesses," said the General +sententiously. "Truth is written on your face, and you are earnest and +thoughtful beyond your years. The thing I wish you to do is this: go +back to your uncle's and conduct yourself as far as possible as you have +done. I am convinced that another attempt will soon be made to carry +information to Thompson. I want you to let me know when the time will +be. You can find out by keeping your eyes and ears open. Show that you +are indignant at the part you have been made to play for that will be +expected. Send me word the moment you suspect that the attempt will be +made. Can you do this?" + +"I will try, General. I will do it if only to redeem myself in your eyes. +If I can find out the time I will." + +"Then you may go now. I think you can understand why it is that I am so +suspicious of every one, do you not, child? By the way, I found that +everything was just as you said it was when you were here before. That +has made it easy for you this time. Am I forgiven for the way I treated +you then?" + +"I forgave you long ago," said the girl sweetly. "I had been here but a +short time when I realized that you must have hard work to hold these +people down. And you have been good to believe me, General Butler. You +are not nearly so bad as people think you are. They don't know how kind +you are." + +The General laughed and then sighed. + +"I am afraid that there are not many who will agree with you," he said. +"But there, child! I must attend to business. I will write to your father +myself and just as soon as I hear from him you shall know it." + +"Will you?" cried Jeanne. "And oh, do tell him to send for me soon." + +"Yes, you poor child! Or if I see an opportunity to send you safely home +you shall go. I think that I can send you by one of the steamers. If I +had known of this you should have returned with Mrs. Butler." + +"I wish I could have done so," said the girl wistfully. + +"Well, you shall go soon, I promise you. Keep a brave heart, and remember +that it will not be long before you shall go. Good-bye." + +He shook hands with her warmly, and then stopped her as she was leaving +the room. + +"Your flag, my little girl. We had forgotten your flag." + +"I am not worthy," whispered the girl looking longingly at it. + +"My dear, so long as your heart is as loyal as it is there is no one more +worthy. Take it and keep it unsullied as you have done." + +Jeanne took it joyfully and then departed. Full of misgiving she +reluctantly wended her way toward her uncle's house. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE VELVET GLOVE CONCEALS THE IRON HAND + + +There was an unusual stir in the villa when Jeanne arrived. Madame Vance +greeted her with some eagerness. + +"What has become of the letters?" she cried. "Surely you did not permit +the Yankees to take them?" + +"I could not help it, Cherie," answered Jeanne noting with her newly +acquired insight into the lady's character that her own well-being was +of no importance. "I did not know that the soldiers were near until +Feliciane gave the alarm and thrust the papers into my hand. She should +have kept them. Did she escape?" + +"She did. Of course she thought that you would make an effort to do the +same. What did the 'Beast' say when he found that a Yankee girl was +working against him? It is very droll." And she laughed maliciously. "I +am surprised that you got away from him at all." + +"I would not have done so had he not believed that I was but a tool in +your hands," answered the girl bluntly. "I will never forgive you, Cherie, +for the way you deceived me. You told me that your brother was wounded, +and that it was only to take him some medicine and food, and you have +no brother at all. Was the information that you sent concealed in my +basket?" + +"Certainly it was," returned Madame lightly. "Was it not for that purpose +that you showed me the hiding-place yesterday? Thanks to your cleverness +General Thompson is aware of an attack by which Butler meant to surprise +him. That basket of yours is a jewel for hiding contraband articles. It +will be used again." + +"It shall never again be so used if I can help it," cried Jeanne goaded +beyond endurance by the knowledge of how she had been tricked. "I would +not have believed that you would have been guilty of telling an untruth. +You ought to be ashamed of yourself." + +"Everything is fair in love and war," said the other mockingly. "It is +not wrong to falsify to Yankees." + +"I will never forgive you. Never!" cried the girl passionately. "I told +General Butler just how you deceived me, and I never can trust you again. +To think that such a woman is the wife of my uncle!" + +"Be careful of your words, my little Yankee," and the black eyes of the +lady glittered balefully. "I have treated you well heretofore, but I may +repent of my soft usage. If gentle means will not convince you of the +error of your ways we will try other means." + +"What do you mean? You dare not use me otherwise than well. I would not +submit to anything else, and Uncle Ben would not allow you to ill treat +me." + +"Your uncle will permit anything that I choose to do," retorted Madame +angrily, and the girl knew that she spoke truly. Mr. Vance yielded to +his wife in everything. "And listen, girl! I dare anything that I choose +to do. I am sick of your puritanical ways, and I have resolved to change +them. Why did you return if you were not of our way of thinking? Why did +you not stay with 'Beast' Butler since you agree so well? Speak, girl! why +did you come back?" + +"I--I--because----" Jeanne was unable to proceed. The question was so +unexpected that she was not prepared to answer it. + +"Aha!" and Madame regarded her keenly. "I see. You came back to spy upon +us. Deny it if you can." + +Then as the girl made no reply she called: + +"Feliciane, Feliciane!" The woman entered the room. "Take this girl to +the strong room," she commanded. + +"Don't dare to touch me," cried Jeanne springing away from the woman. "I +will tell General Butler of this." + +"So?" and Madame's face became purple with rage. "You admit it. I thought +as much. You have returned as a spy. Oh, he boasts of having his creatures +in every household, but he has a de la Chaise to deal with in me. Away +with her, Feliciane!" + +In vain Jeanne struggled and cried out against the indignity. She was +helpless in the hands of the muscular negress, and was soon carried +struggling and screaming to the top floor of the house, and pushed +unceremoniously into a room, the door closed and locked upon her. + +"Foh de land sake, lill' missy, what you doin' heah?" came in a hoarse +whisper and Jeanne turned to see the face of Snowball peering at her. + +"Snowball, are you here?" she cried stifling her sobs and trying to +penetrate the gloom of the darkened chamber. + +"Yes, missy, I is. Dey allers puts us in heah aftah we's whipped. But how +kum you heah? You wuzn't whipped, wuz yer?" + +"No;" and Jeanne seated herself by the prostrate form of the girl and took +her hand. "I would rather have been than to do what I did yesterday." She +told the darky how Madame had beguiled her into taking the trip to the +Confederates, and of her subsequent arrest and discharge. + +"I hopes dis Butler will help yer ef de missus got a grudge agin yer," +muttered Snowball. "An' she sut'n'ly hab got one elsen she wouldn't put +yer in dis place whar we niggas is put. Why, missy, dis ain't no place +foh yer." + +"But you have to stay here, Snowball. I ought to stand it if you do. I +wish there was some way to get word to General Butler. He would take me +from here I know." + +"Dere won't be no way, missy," said Snowball with melancholy conviction +as Jeanne sprang to her feet and began a hurried inspection of the room. +"Missus wouldn't leab a mouse hole ef she thought it could be used." + +And Jeanne found her words true. It was a small low room without furniture +of any kind. A pile of straw upon which the darky lay was the only thing +in it. There were iron shutters at the windows so strong that it would +require the strength of a man to open them. The door was bolted and +Jeanne resumed her seat by the girl in a hopeless manner. + +"What can we do, Snowball?" + +"Nuffin. Can't do a bressed thing tell de missus ready ter let us out. +'Tain't so bad when yer gits usen ter de dahk." + +"Does your back hurt much?" + +"Not now, honey. It did huht awful when dey pouhed de brine on tho'." + +"The brine! Not salt water, Snowball?" + +"Yes'm. It did huht shore nuff when dey pouhed dat on. Dey does it kase +dey think de whip won't make no scahs when dey heal. But it do huht awful." + +This new horror held Jeanne silent, and her tears fell fast. A fierce +indignation foreign to her usually gentle nature shook her from head to +foot. "And father used to say that abolitionists were extremists," she +thought. "Oh, if ever I get home again I'll cry out on the streets against +slavery." + +"Is yer cryin', lill' missy?" exclaimed Snowball, as the warm drops fell +upon her hands. "Done yer do it. It done mattah 'bout a pore nigga laik +me. Heah you is tiahed mos' ter def, I reckon. Can't yer sleep?" + +"I'll try, Snowball," and Jeanne crept beside the girl on her straw. "I +am tired. I almost wish I could die." + +"Done yer be downhahted, missy. Dey'll take me outen heah soon. Jes' as +soon as ma back gits well, kase dey can't 'ford ter lose a val'able nigga +laik me, and ef dey doesn't take you outen dis 'fore den I'll run away +ter de Gin'ral. Heaps of de cullah folks go ter him." + +"Will you, Snowball?" A gleam of hope stole into Jeanne's heart. She +snuggled down into the straw and soon fell into a deep sleep. + +When she awakened she was alone in the room. During her slumber Snowball +had been taken away, and Jeanne missed her companionship sorely. A +pitcher of water and some bread had been placed by her side, and the +girl ate ravenously for she had taken no food since the day before. +Then once more she wandered about the room trying to find some means +of escape. Realizing that her efforts were useless she sank back on the +straw and gave herself up to thoughts of home and her dear parents. + +How little any of them thought that her journey would turn out as it had. +She pictured her father's indignation when she should tell him of the +treatment she had received and her mother's anxiety concerning her. Well, +even if Snowball did not get to see General Butler he would seek her just +as soon as he heard from her father. Perhaps when he found that he did +not hear from her he would come to see what the matter was. And so the +hours passed drearily by. + +No one came to the room and no sound reached her from below. By the +deepening of the gloom she knew that it was drawing near night, and she +looked forward with some dread to spending the long hours of darkness +in that cheerless place. But summoning all her fortitude she composed +herself for slumber. + +"I have the flag," she said to herself and took it from her bosom. "I +am so glad that the General gave it back to me. How is our side doing, I +wonder? Why didn't I think to ask him? It has been so long since I heard. +So long!" + +With the flag clasped to her breast she fell asleep once more. As before, +while she slept food and drink were placed beside her, and it began to +look as if she was to be condemned to solitude. In this manner two days +passed. On the morning of the third day she was rudely awakened by some +one shaking her. + +"Get up," cried Madame, who stood by her side. "Get up! We are going." + +"Going? Going where?" cried Jeanne, dazedly. + +"We are going to your home," answered Madame Vance. "Get up and come with +me if you care to go too." + +"Home!" repeated Jeanne thinking that she still slept. "Home!" + +"Yes; don't sit there like a silly, but come at once. That Yankee beast +has ordered that all of the registered enemies of the United States shall +leave the city. And we must go." + +"Are you really going to take me home?" asked the girl now thoroughly +awake. "Oh, if you will, I will forgive everything!" + +"Then get ready quickly," said Madame, a cruel light in her eyes which the +girl unfortunately did not see. "We must go at once. The 'Beast' will only +permit us to take what we can carry with us. The rest of the property +must go to enrich him and his brother. Oh, they are a nice pair, but ma +foi! what can one expect of Yankees?" + +Jeanne made no reply, but followed her to her own room where Snowball was +waiting to dress her. + +"Mus' you go, lill' missy?" whispered the girl as Madame left them for the +moment alone. "I'se 'feerd foh yer ter go." + +"Are you going too, Snowball?" + +"Missus say I is, an', ob couhse, I long ter huh I'se got ter ef she say +so. But I done want ter." + +An hour later Mr. and Madame Vance, Jeanne, Feliciane, Snowball and Jeff +left the city in company with a number of others. General Butler, wearied +with the intrigues of these avowed enemies of the government, had ordered +that they should leave his lines for the Confederacy, and imposed the +condition that they should not return. + +In all the throng that waited to see the Confederates depart Jeanne saw +no sign of the General. There were plenty of aids and members of his +staff who looked closely after the articles carried away by the departing +people, but of the General himself she saw nothing. And so the girl was +allowed to depart with the refugees without a word from the Unionists. +Blinded by her desire to get home, she left freedom and the protection +of the flag and went without question into the heart of Secessia. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +AGAIN DECEIVED + + +The party of Secessionists of which Mr. and Madame Vance were members +embarked on board the boat, Ceres, which steamed up the narrow winding +river, Tangipaho, to Manchac bridge, the terminus of a railroad that +led to Ponchatoula ten miles distant from which was the headquarters of +General Thompson; the main body of Confederates being nine miles further +on. + +The shores of the river presented to view nothing but desolation. Many of +the houses were deserted and every garden and field lay waste. Gaunt, +yellow, silent figures stood looking at the disembarking refugees, images +of despair. The people there had been small farmers, market gardeners, +fishermen and shell diggers; all of them absolutely dependent upon the +market of New Orleans from which they had been cut off for more than five +months. Roving bands of Guerillas and the march of the regiments had +robbed them of the last pig, the last chicken, the last egg and even +of their half grown vegetables. In all that region there was nothing +to eat but corn on the cob, and of that only a few pecks in each house. + +A locomotive with a train of platform cars stood on the track and the +party soon were gliding swiftly to the village. + +Jeanne's eyes brightened when she saw that the place contained a post and +telegraph office. + +"Uncle Ben," she said timidly for none of the party were in good spirits. +The men were sullen and the women bewailing their fate at being obliged to +leave their belongings behind them. + +"Uncle Ben," said Jeanne again as her uncle did not answer her. + +"Well, what is it?" he asked ungraciously. + +"Could I not telegraph to my father that we are coming? There is a +telegraph office here." + +"What made you think that we were going to Dick's?" he asked after a broad +stare of amazement. + +"Cherie told me," answered Jeanne her heart sinking at his expression. +"Aren't we going, dear uncle?" + +"Well, I rather guess not," said Mr. Vance emphatically. "I think we've +had enough of the Yankees without going where they are. Enough to last +us a lifetime." + +"Why did you tell me such a thing?" burst from Jeanne turning upon her +aunt with indignation. + +"Because, my dear little Yankee, I wanted the pleasure of your company, +of course," replied Madame mockingly. + +"That is not true," said Jeanne boldly. "You do not like me, Aunt +Clarisse," dropping the Cherie which she seldom afterward used. + +"No? you want the truth then?" said the woman suddenly. "Because I hate +you for being a Yankee." + +"But you did like me at first and I was a Yankee then," and the girl +shrank from the light in the other's eyes. + +"Yes; for a time, but I soon tired of you. You were too independent, and +had views that were tiresome to me. I might have loved you had you yielded +your will to mine. But you would not. You, a mere girl, set your judgment +up against mine, although I granted your lightest wish. Then you told +that Yankee General that your uncle had given you all the property and he +seized it in your name. Think you that I would let you stay to enjoy +our property when we were driven from the city? Oh, I saw through your +artfulness! But you shall not have the property if that Beast does!" + +"I did not want your property," replied Jeanne, her face becoming very +pale as she heard her aunt's words. "Why should I care for it? I want +only to go to my home. Please let me go back, Aunt Clarisse. I will beg +General Butler to let you have your property again and to send me home. +Truly, I do not want anything of yours. Let me go back." + +"Never," cried the other angrily. "Who would think that a puny faced thing +like you could be so sly!" + +Jeanne made no reply but sank into bitter thought. The rebel general, +Jefferson Thompson, received the refugees courteously and promised to +help them to reach friends and relatives in other parts of the South. +Meantime he gave them such refreshment as was at his disposal, resigning +to the Vances his own headquarters. For a few days they stayed here, being +joined by others from the city. Then they broke up into small parties +and scattered, each bent upon reaching his own objective point. + +To her consternation Jeanne was told that her uncle and aunt were bound +for Alabama, the very midst of Secession. The girl's heart died within her +when she found that this was their destination. With no friends near how +could she, a mere girl, hope to reach her own people surrounded as she +would be on all sides by rebels? She was almost in despair. + +At Waynesboro, they left the train and Mr. Vance, securing a carriage with +two good horses, announced his intention of driving through the rest of +the way. Madame Vance received the intelligence with demonstrations of joy +but Jeanne said nothing. In spite of her depression, however, she could +not but feel a sense of pleasure as they bowled along over the public road. + +It was a pleasing ride, ennobling to the soul as a series of beautiful +scenes were unrolled to the view. Far in the azure blue the great banks +of white clouds seemed to lie at anchor, so slow of sail were they. The +gloom of the dense forest gently waving its boughs to the breeze greeted +the eye. Ever and anon the dulcet murmur of gurgling streams broke gently +on the ear. Quiet cottages surrounded by flowers and fruits, the abodes +of peace and content, were passed; grass green marshes with here and +there a tall pine or sombre cypress standing as sentinels of the rich +mead; song birds caroling their sweet lays as they flitted from bough +to bough, or lightly soared in space; fields of deadened trees, all +draped with the long gray Spanish moss, were silhouetted against the +sky; groups of great oaks, with clusters of the mistletoe pendent. On +past plantations, busy with slaves whose merry songs floated far on +the gentle zephyrs. + +But as the day wore away proofs that grim-visaged war was raging in the +land came more and more into evidence. + +Want and desolation mark the track of soldiers. Armies must be fed and +hungry men respect neither friend nor foe when it comes to satisfying +their wants, and ravaged plantations and desolated homes marred the beauty +of the peaceful landscape. + +It was a long hard day's ride and Jeanne was glad when at last just as +the brief twilight was deepening, Mr. Vance descried a large house in the +distance and directed Jeff to drive them there so that they might have +shelter for the night. + +"Dar's nobody ter hum," was Jeff's announcement after knocking at all the +doors. + +"Go to the quarters and find out where the people are," commanded his +master, but the darky soon returned with the information that the cabins +were empty also. + +"Strange," said the gentleman. "What do you think we would better do, +Clarisse?" + +"Can you not open the doors in some way?" asked the lady pettishly. "I +am tired, mon ami, and if no one is there we might just as well take +possession. Private property doesn't seem to be respected these times." + +Without another word Mr. Vance gave the order, and the two men soon +succeeded in forcing an entrance. The fast falling darkness gave weird +glimpses of the interior of the residence. + +"Remain without," said her husband hastily, "until I get a light." + +Presently the cheering flash of a fire dispelled the gloom of the dwelling +and after being assured that everything was all right within, the lady +entered followed by Jeanne and the blacks. The October air was chilly and +the warmth of the pine knots was very acceptable. + +Jeanne crept into a corner where she could enjoy the blaze and fell into +a reverie. The poor child was very miserable. Her aunt and uncle scarcely +noticed her or when they did speak to her it was in such great contrast +to their former affectionate address that her heart was heavy indeed. + +The brightness of the pine knots in the vast fireplace lighted up the +room vividly. The apartment seemed to have been the living-room of the +family, and its disarrangement showed that the inmates had left its +sheltering walls hurriedly. At one end of the room were great spinning +wheels with the thread still hanging. + +Mr. Vance had drawn up an easy chair to one side of the odorous fire and +leaned silently back in its depths apparently lost in thought. His wife +was seated near him, the firelight glancing almost caressing on the rich +sheen of her hair and the vivid crimson of her cheek and lip. Snowball's +dusky figure flitted back and forth supplying the fire with the rich +pine knots as they were required while Jeff and Feliciane were busied +in the kitchen trying to get up something for a meal. + +Jeanne fell to studying the fair face of the woman before her wondering +over and over how one so beautiful could be so cruel. + +"Well! Have you finished staring at me?" demanded Madame suddenly. "Have +done with your impudence, girl. You make me nervous." + +"I beg your pardon," murmured Jeanne shrinking from the light in her +aunt's eyes. "I do not wish to make you nervous. I was just thinking----" + +"I don't care what you are doing," said the other sharply. "I do not wish +to be stared at." She sat back in her chair, and relapsed into silence. +Jeanne withdrew her gaze, but it wandered unconsciously to her uncle's +face. He moved uneasily, but made no comment. + +Presently Madame gave utterance to a harsh laugh, and looked at the girl +strangely. + +"How would you like this for a home?" she asked abruptly. + +"What do you mean?" cried Jeanne. + +"Just what I say. How would you like to live here?" + +"I would not like it," replied the girl decidedly. "I like my own home +best. There is no place like New York." + +"Perhaps you may change your mind," and Madame gave vent to a peal of +unpleasant laughter. "I believe that you will have the opportunity." + +"What do you mean?" asked Jeanne again, but the lady's only answer was +a shrug of her shoulders. + +A vague uneasiness filled Jeanne's mind at her strange demeanor. She kept +looking at the girl with a curious, half triumphant expression, while +ever and anon she laughed in that strange way that made the girl's blood +chill with apprehension. She was glad when at last Mr. Vance ordered them +all to retire. + +"There are plenty of rooms and good beds," he said. "Very likely the +people left hurriedly else they would have taken them with them, or +perhaps they left them because they will soon return. However it may +be, we must get a good night's rest for to-morrow we have a long day's +ride before us." + +Jeanne chose a room at the end of the upstairs hall and entering it closed +the door securely. Tired as she was from her long ride she could not +sleep but lay thinking deeply about her aunt's strange behavior. She had +become so accustomed to the lady's vagaries that she knew that some new +idea had suggested itself to her and she felt that it related to herself. + +At last her eyes grew heavy, and soon she fell into the deep untroubled +sleep of youth. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP + + +It was late when Jeanne awoke, and springing up she dressed hastily and +went downstairs. There was no one in the living-room. The fire had died +down and a few glowing coals gleamed red in the ashes. Full of a vague +alarm and fearing she knew not what, Jeanne ran into the kitchen but there +was no one there. Quickly she ran from one room to another but all were +empty. The apartments appeared larger and more desolate than ever in +their emptiness. Again and again the now frightened girl ran through the +rooms and out upon the galleries, but the echo of her own voice was all +the answer that came to her cries. At last the truth dawned upon her. +She had been abandoned by her uncle and aunt. + +This then was the meaning of Madame's laughter. She, Jeanne, a Union +girl, had been left to get along as best she could on a lonely, deserted +plantation in the very midst of rebeldom; to live or die as the case +might be. + +With a cry the girl flung herself upon the floor and let the flood of +her anguish sweep over her. A great fear was upon her. The fear of the +unknown. Never before had she been so utterly, so entirely alone. It was +long before she could control herself, and when at last she sat up, and +tried to think calmly, she seemed to have grown older. + +"I must be brave," she thought. "Perhaps it is better so after all. I am +no worse off than I was with them. May be I can make my way back to New +Orleans and General Butler will send me home. But where am I? I don't know +whether it is Alabama or Mississippi, but whichever it is, I must try to +get back to Louisiana. Oh, my money!" + +Hastily she searched for it and, to her great joy, found the bills safely +hidden in the lining of her dress. Long ago her aunt had complained of the +thieving of the blacks, and cautioned Jeanne to hide securely whatever +she had of value. + +"Aunt Clarisse must have forgotten it," she exulted, "or she would have +taken it from me. 'One can always get along if one has money,' father +said. This will help me to get home. I wonder if my flag is safe!" + +Full of anxiety lest the beloved emblem might have been taken she thrust +her hand into the folds of her dress, and to her great delight, found it +still there. Drawing it forth she gazed at it lovingly, and then shook it +out straight. As she did so her eye was caught by a piece of paper pinned +to one corner of it. With an exclamation Jeanne caught at it eagerly. + +"My dear little Yankee," it ran. "We leave you in possession. There is +not much to eat in the house, but ma foi! what care you? Have you not your +flag? Knowing your penchant for appropriating other people's property we +have given you an opportunity to acquire more belongings. Are we not kind? + +"Should you see your honored parents again (which I very much doubt) +present my truest affection to them. Hoping that your solitude will give +you time to repent of your past misdeeds, believe me, + + "As ever, + "Cherie." + + +Jeanne's eyes blazed in sudden anger, and she clenched her hands +determinedly. + +"I will see my parents again," she cried, passionately. "I will, I will! +All the rebels in the world shall not keep me from it! I'll start right +back for New Orleans." + +Full of this resolution she arose and went into the house in search of +something to eat! As Madame Vance had written there was very little food +in the dwelling. A thin slice of bacon and a small hoe cake was all that +Jeanne could find, but she ate them, then started forth on her journey +back to New Orleans. + +Taking what she believed was the road over which they had come the girl +trudged bravely along although it wound through a deep forest. On and on +through the dark green gloom of the woodland she walked, knowing nothing +of the vegetation of the South, and afraid to touch herbs or the wild +fruit. + +"I did not think the forest went so far," she murmured, as the day wore +away and the shadowy vista of woods still opened before her. "And there +was a house just beyond the trees. I ought to get to it soon. Then I will +ask to stay for the night." + +But the woods grew denser, and the road became but a narrow bridle path. +The afternoon drew to a close, and the brief twilight came suddenly upon +her in the depths of the forest. + +Jeanne stopped dismayed, and then sank down at the foot of a tall pine. +A feeling of homesick desolation crept over her, filling her with vague, +undefined forebodings. The tall long-leaved pines and funereal cypress +trees rose on either side. The twilight deepened into night and the hum +of Nature's wildwood insects came to her ear. From the deeper forest +came the plaintive cry of the whippoorwill. As the darkness deepened the +hooting of the owls could be heard and the croaking of some frogs from +a near-by swamp. + +Jeanne felt cold chills creep up and down her back as the tall trees +festooned with gray moss, almost reaching to the ground, swayed to and +fro as a shiver of moaning wind stirred the air. + +"I cannot stay here," she exclaimed springing to her feet. "It is better +to keep on walking. Surely there must be a house somewhere near!" + +And so, though she was faint from hunger and weary from walking, she +trudged on. Presently the moon came up and deluged the forest with a +shining flood of light. The dark pines, half in shadow, half in sheen, +loomed vast and giant-like on either side of the gleaming path beneath. + +Afraid to stop and rest, Jeanne walked on and on. All at once she heard +singing. The sound filled her with new life and she hastened eagerly +in its direction. Louder and louder came the melody to her ears until +presently she was able to distinguish the words: + + "'Do they miss me at home, + Do they miss me? + 'Twould be an assurance most dear, + To know at this moment some lov'd one + Were saying, "I wish he were here"; + To feel that the group at the fireside + Were thinking of me as I roam; + Oh, yes, 'twould be joy beyond measure + To know that they miss me at home, + To know that they miss me at home.'" + +Tears rushed into the girl's eyes and a sob broke from her lips. "Do they +miss me, I wonder?" she said brokenly. "Oh, mother, mother! How little +do you think that I am wandering about in the woods without a place to +lay my head. Mother, mother!" + + "'Do they set me a chair near the table, + When evening's home pleasures are nigh, + When the candles are lit in the parlor, + And the stars in the calm, azure sky? + And when the good-nights are repeated, + And all lay them down to their sleep, + Do they think of the absent and waft me + A whisper'd "good-night" while they weep? + A whisper'd "good-night" while they weep?'" + +Jeanne looked up as the singer came toward her. The bright moonlight fell +full upon him as he paused for a moment to examine the lock of his gun, +and she saw that he was a Confederate soldier on picket duty. He resumed +the song as he swung the gun back to his shoulder. + +"He is like Dick," thought the lonely girl. "I am sure that he has a kind +heart, or he would not sing that song. Maybe he has a sister too." + +Summoning all her courage she spoke timidly. "Sir," she said. + +"Who goes there?" cried the startled picket with an ominous click of his +weapon. + +"Just a little girl," answered Jeanne, coming forward into the moonlight. +"I'm lost, and I don't know where to go." + +"A girl! It's true I do declare!" burst from the sentinel's lips as he +lowered his gun. "How do you come to be here in the woods at this time +of night?" + +"I am trying to get back to New Orleans, and I must have taken the wrong +road." Jeanne was trembling but she tried to control herself. "Oh, could +you tell me where I could get something to eat and a place to sleep? I--I +am afraid." + +Her voice broke and despite her efforts at self-command she burst into +tears. + +"There! Never mind! I'll take you to Miss Bob," said the soldier with +rough kindness. "The woods ain't no place fur a girl at night. Just come +with me." + +Jeanne followed him gladly. A brisk walk of fifteen minutes brought them +to a camp. The tents gleamed white among the trees and it seemed to the +girl as though she had never seen so many in all her life before. Some +men lounged lazily about one of the many fires that dotted the place, +talking in subdued tones. They stared at the girl as the sentinel came +in with her but made no remark. The soldier paused before a small tent +and called softly: + +"Miss Bob! Miss Bob! are you asleep?" + +"What is it, Johnson?" came the reply in the soft sleepy tones of a girl. + +"Here is a girl out here who is lost. She is hungry and wants a place to +sleep. Will you see to her? I am on duty." + +"Certainly. Go back to your post, Johnson. I will be out in a minute." + +"All right." The soldier saluted and walked off leaving Jeanne a prey to +conflicting emotions. + +In a few moments the flap of the tent was pushed aside, and the slight +figure of a girl about Jeanne's own age emerged from it. + +"You are lost?" she asked advancing toward Jeanne and speaking quickly. +"And hungry, I think Johnson said. Come, we'll have something to eat, and +then go to bed. Are you tired?" + +Jeanne nodded, unable to speak. + +"Sit here by the fire while I fix things. Jim," to one of the men, "this +girl is hungry. Will you help me get something for her to eat?" + +"'Course I will, Miss Bob." The man sprang to his feet and walked briskly +away disappearing into what Jeanne afterward learned was the commissary +department. + +"We'll have something in a jiffy," remarked the girl encouragingly, +beginning to poke up the fire. + +"See here, Miss Bob, let me do that," and another of the men ran to her +side. "I reckon Jim and me can fix things. 'Tain't no work for you." + +Soon cold chicken, bread, and hot coffee were placed before the hungry +girl and she ate ravenously. + +"I didn't know that soldiers had chickens to eat," she remarked with a +sigh of satisfaction as she finished the last morsel. + +The girl called Bob laughed merrily, the men joining in heartily. + +"We don't usually," and Bob controlled her risibles with difficulty, "but +you see a whole heap of them walked right into camp, and so of course we +ate them." + +"Wasn't it queer that they should come right into camp?" said serious +Jeanne. "I always thought that you had to run after them to catch them." + +Again the girl and the men laughed. + +"Of course they didn't exactly come here," said Bob comfortably, "but +we've got the smartest regiment in the whole Confederate army. I verily +believe that it could catch and skin a hog without a man leaving the +ranks. Oh, they are fine foragers!" + +"Forager?" Jeanne looked mystified. "I wonder if Dick is a forager!" + +"Who is Dick?" + +"Dick is my brother in the army," said Jeanne proudly. + +"Well, if he is a soldier you can depend upon it that he is a forager," +said Bob with decision. "Which side is your brother on?" + +"The Union." + +The smile died away from the girl's lips at the reply, and she looked at +Jeanne with coldness. + +"I did not think that you were a Southerner when you spoke," she said. +"What are you doing here? We are Confederates." + +"Yes, I know," answered Jeanne. "My aunt and uncle left me on a deserted +plantation because I was a Yankee, and I started back to New Orleans +hoping that General Butler would send me home. I must have taken the +wrong road, and so gotten lost. You won't turn me away, will you, just +because I am a Yankee?" + +"No; not for to-night anyway. I just hate Yankees, but I reckon you don't +count as you are a girl. Come on to bed now, and we'll talk it over in +the morning." + +And Jeanne went into the tent content to let the morrow take care of +itself now that she was sheltered for the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +"BOB" + + +At daybreak the roll of martial drums startled Jeanne into wakefulness. + +"What is it?" she cried, springing from the couch. + +"The drummers are beating the reveille," answered the calm voice of Bob +who was already up. "That means that it is time to get up. You needn't +be in a hurry, however. There are two hours yet until breakfast." + +"But you are dressing," said Jeanne. "I will too." + +"I always get up when the regiment does," answered Bob. "But you are +different. You are a guest." + +"What are you?" asked Jeanne curiously. + +"The Colonel's daughter, and the child of the regiment. What is your name?" + +"Jeanne Vance. I live in New York city." + +"That is a long way from here," said Bob. "Do you mind telling me why you +came down here?" + +"I think I should like to," replied Jeanne gazing at the trim figure of +the girl admiringly. She was clad in a suit of gray cloth consisting +of a skirt and close fitting jacket with epaulets upon the shoulders. +A cap of the same material was perched jauntily upon her raven black +hair. Her face, piquant and sparkling, was tanned a healthy brown through +which the red of her cheeks glowed brightly. Jeanne thought that she +had never seen a more charming girl, and, rebel though she knew she was, +she felt her heart drawn toward her. + +"Yes, I think that I should like to tell you," she repeated, and then +as rapidly as possible she told of her mission and the events that had +followed its execution. + +Bob listened attentively. + +"It was awfully mean in your aunt to treat you the way she did," she +commented as Jeanne finished her story. "You are a brave girl even if you +are a Yankee, and I like you. Father says there are some nice ones, but +I reckon that they haven't so awfully many brave ones among them, or we +wouldn't be whipping them so." + +"Whipping them?" cried Jeanne aghast. "What do you mean by whipping them? +We were doing all the whipping the last I knew anything about it." + +"Well, you certainly haven't heard the news lately then," rejoined Bob. +"If you had, you would have learned that General Bragg had invaded +Tennessee and Kentucky and that the Confederates have both those states +back again. I tell you the Yankees are just 'skedaddling' before him." + +"It can't be true," wailed Jeanne. "Kentucky and Tennessee both taken from +us when we fought so hard to get them? Surely it is not true!" + +"But it is," asserted Bob positively. "And that is not the greatest news: +General Lee has not only driven McClellan from in front of Richmond, but +he has invaded Maryland and we expect to hear at any time that Washington +has fallen into our hands." + +"Is it true?" asked Jeanne again turning so pale that Bob thought she was +going to faint. + +"Here, drink this!" Bob tipped up her canteen of water to Jeanne's lips. +"I did not know that Yankees cared so much for such things." + +"Cared for such things," echoed Jeanne indignantly. "Of course we care. +How could any one hear that the Capital is menaced and not care? But the +traitors will never succeed in taking it. Never! I know our people. They +will defend it with their lives, and drive the treacherous miscreants, +who would dare profane by their touch, back to where they belong." + +"We are not traitors," flashed Bob. "We have a right to secede if we want +to. The Capital belongs as much to us as it does to you, anyway." + +"It doesn't," cried Jeanne angrily. "It belongs to the North because the +North is trying to uphold the Government left to us by our great and good +Washington." + +"Your great and good Washington," sneered Bob. "Washington belonged to +us, I'd have you know. He was a Virginian, and let me tell you, that if it +hadn't been for Southerners there never would have been any United States +anyway." + +"There would too," flashed back Jeanne. "My great-grandfather fought +in the Revolution, and there were plenty who fought that were not +Southerners." + +"And who led them, pray?" demanded Bob. "Why, George Washington, a +Southerner. Who wrote the Declaration of Independence? Thomas Jefferson, a +Southerner. Who got up the Constitution? Why James Madison, a Southerner. +And mind you, Jeanne Vance, this country couldn't be run at first +except by Southerners. Out of the first five presidents, four were +Southerners." + +"Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe," and Jeanne counted them +on her fingers. "John Adams was a Massachusetts man." + +"Phew!" and Bob's lips curled scornfully. "And the people were so sick +of him that they only let him stay in four years. They were glad enough +to get back to us. I am sure that I don't wonder. I don't see how they +could stand a New Englander." + +"I'm afraid that you'll have to," said Jeanne, wrathfully. "They are the +best people in the world. One of them is worth a dozen Southerners." + +"He isn't," blazed Bob. "He----" + +"Why, what does this mean?" cried a voice from without the tent. "Bob, +is that the way you treat a guest? I am surprised." + +"It's dad!" exclaimed Bob, rapidly untying the flap of the tent. "Come in." + +To Jeanne's surprise she saluted her father military fashion instead of +kissing him. The gentleman entered--a tall, black-haired, black-eyed man +of splendid military bearing and courtly mien. His eyes were twinkling, +but he spoke to his daughter in rather a stern tone. + +"Is this the way to entertain a guest, my child? I suppose that this is +the young lady that Johnson brought in last night." + +"Yes," answered Bob, in a shamefaced way. "She is a Yankee, and we were +quarreling. I don't know how it began. Do you?" to Jeanne. + +"No," answered Jeanne. "I don't." + +"I am ashamed of myself," said Bob, impulsively. "I ought to have +remembered that you were my guest. If you will forgive me this time I +won't do it any more." + +"I was wrong too," said Jeanne, humbly. "We'll forgive each other." + +Bob hesitated a moment and then leaned toward her. + +"There!" said the Colonel, as the girls kissed. "That's better. Leave it +to the men to settle the differences of the country. It is not pleasant +to see girls quarrel. Introduce the little lady to me, Bob." + +"Jeanne, this is my father, Colonel Peyton," said Bob. "Dad, this is +Jeanne Vance, from New York city. And she is a brave girl, if she is a +Yankee. You must get her to tell you all about her adventures." + +"I am sure that I shall be pleased to hear them," said the Colonel, +affecting not to notice Jeanne's start of surprise as she heard his name. +"Do you girls know that it is breakfast time?" + +"Mercy!" cried Bob. "Have the drums beaten the call? I did not hear them. +Did you ever! We've been two hours talking and--quarreling," she added, +in a lower tone. + +"Yes; there was a time when I thought that it would be coffee and pistols +for two," laughed the father. "Come, let us have breakfast. I will hear +the little lady's story while we eat." + +Jeanne looked about her with curious eyes as they emerged from the tent. +Everywhere there were tents that were arranged with military precision +back of a parade-ground which formed the front. First were the tents of +the men arranged by companies. Next after the tents of the men came those +of the commissioned officers of the companies. These faced on streets +which ran at right angles with the company streets. Still back of these +were the tents of the Colonel and his staff. The flag-staff at the edge +of the parade-ground, and immediately in front of the Colonel's tent, +sported a Confederate flag that waved gaily in the breeze. In the rear +of all were found the Quartermaster's and Sutler's departments. Dick had +often written about the soldiers doing their own cooking but here the +camp seemed filled with negroes who bustled about cooking and waiting +upon the soldiers as if they had been in their own dining-rooms. + +"We are here awaiting orders," said the Colonel, when Jeanne had told +him her story, "but we expect to leave soon for Jackson. There are a +number of Federals in that vicinity. It seems to me that your best plan +would be to remain with us until we reach Jackson where I will try to get +you to your own side. They will assist you to get home. That is where you +ought to be." + +"And where I wish to be," said Jeanne. "You are very kind, Colonel Peyton. +Kinder than my own people were, and yet you know that I am a Yankee." + +"I am treating you as I would wish my own daughter treated under like +circumstances," replied the Colonel gravely. "I don't war on girls, and +it seems to me that you have had rather a hard time of it. Well, we'll +get you out of it as soon as possible unless you and Bob destroy each +other in your quarrels." And he looked at them with a humorous twinkle +in his eye. + +"We won't quarrel any more," decided Bob. "We have had our say and we feel +better. Don't we, Jeanne?" + +"Ye-es," said Jeanne hesitatingly. "Only I didn't say all I wanted to." + +"Never mind," laughed Colonel Peyton. "I've no doubt but that you will +have the opportunity yet. Did Bob tell you how she came to be with me?" + +"No; how was it?" + +"I ran away," said Bob, her mouth full of chicken. "I have no mother. +Nobody but dad. So when the war broke out, and he went into it I made up +my mind that I would go too. Dad sold off our darkies and sent me to stay +with Aunt Betty in Mobile. I stood it just as long as I could, then I +took Jack, my horse, and struck out for dad. I found him finally, and +now I've been with him for six months. And I am going to stay too. Am I +not, dad?" + +"Until we get to Jackson," answered her father, regarding her fondly. +"Then I shall send you on to Vicksburg to stay with sister Sally. That +is the safest place in the Confederacy. Once there my mind will be easy +about you. A camp is no place for a girl." + +The breakfast was finished and Colonel Peyton was about to leave them when +he turned to Bob abruptly. + +"By the way," he said, "wasn't it Mr. Vance who bought Snowball?" + +"Yes; it was, dad. I wonder how Madame treats her! It seems to me that +I've heard some awful stories about the way she uses her darkies." + +"When she whips them she does whip dreadfully," said Jeanne. "But I only +know of once that she had Snowball whipped. And you are the Colonel Peyton +who bought her?" Then she told them of Tenny, Snowball's mother. + +"That was why you started when you heard my name, was it not?" asked the +Colonel. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I wondered just a little at the cause of it," remarked the officer as +he left them. "Now, girls, be good." + +"I don't want to go to Vicksburg a bit," confided Bob to Jeanne as they +reentered the former's tent. "I just love soldiering. Besides I want to +be near dad. Suppose he should be wounded. He'd die if I was not right +there to look after him. I'm not going to say anything, but it will take +a regular guard to keep me with Aunt Sally." + +"But if he wishes it," said Jeanne to whom her father's lightest wish was +law. "You will have to stay then. He knows best." + +"It won't be best for me to be away from him," said Bob, rebelliously. +"I should imagine all sorts of things were happening to him." + +"Everybody who has a father or a brother in the army does that," said +Jeanne sadly as she thought of Dick. "But we have to stand it, Bob, +when the men and the boys will go to the war. I could not if I didn't +think it was right. If Dick should be killed----" her voice faltered a +little--"it would be a noble death. Admiral Farragut said that there was +no nobler one than to die for one's country, and I should try not to +grieve too much if he were to fall doing his duty." + +"I do wish you were a Southerner," said Bob impulsively. "You feel just +like we do about those things. But, Jeanne, what if your brother had +thought that we were right and had gone to our side? What would you do +then?" + +"Dick couldn't do that," cried Jeanne. "Why the place where he was born +and the way he was brought up would be against it. No; Dick couldn't be a +rebel." + +"That's what I thought about Frank," said Bob, with bitterness. "That's +one reason that I stick so close to dad. I have, or rather had, a brother +too, Jeanne. But he broke dad's heart and mine by going to fight with the +Yankees. Yet his place of birth and his raising were both against it. I +will never forgive him," and the tears rolled down her cheeks. "And dad +never will either." + +"But he is your brother," said Jeanne, pressing her hand. "If he thinks +he is right, even if he does differ with you, he is still your brother." + +"Never," cried Bob, dashing the tears from her eyes. "I have no brother. +Come, let's go to see the men drill." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE ARREST OF A SPY + + +Jeanne soon accustomed herself to the life of the camp, but she did not +grow fond of it as Bob was. By her gentle way and pleasant manners she +became quite a favorite with Colonel Peyton, but Bob reigned supreme in +the hearts of the men. She petted and scolded them as if they were her +brothers, and Jeanne wondered when she saw how the strong men submitted +to her least command. But the secret lay in the fact that the Southern +girl adored the soldiers and they knew it. + +"It's the smartest regiment in the whole Confederacy," declared Bob with +shining eyes to Jeanne one day. "I don't believe that there is another +like it in the world." + +"Dick's regiment is very gallant," said Jeanne, a trifle wistfully. "It +has been complimented publicly on account of its bravery." + +"Well, it can't beat the 'Die No Mores,'" said Bob. "The boys have been +specially good this week. Dad said last night that not a man had been +under arrest for five days. I always sing to them when that happens." + +"Do you sing, Bob?" + +"Yes; I have quite a good voice," said Bob in such a matter-of-fact way +that the other girl smiled. "Do you?" + +"A little," acknowledged Jeanne. "Father used to like to hear me." + +"Then we will give the boys a good time to-night. They like singing and +dad thinks it helps to keep them cheerful. They often sing themselves." + +"I have heard them in the evening, and I like it when they do not sing +rebel songs," said honest Jeanne. + +"Well, you can hardly expect them to sing any other, can you?" demanded +Bob. "I don't suppose that you do like it. I shouldn't want to hear the +Federal songs if I were in one of their camps. But the spirits of the men +must be kept up for we expect to meet the enemy soon." + +"Do you?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, Bob, do you think that I could go to my side?" + +"I don't know, Jeanne. Dad said, you know, that it would be best to go to +Jackson with us and then he would send you to the Federals. You wouldn't +be any nearer getting home with a party of skirmishers than you are with +us." + +"I suppose not," sighed Jeanne, "but it would be something to be with my +own people." + +"We'll see," replied Bob. "Although I don't like to have you leave, +Jeanne. It is a great deal nicer with you here. Dad likes it too, I know, +for he said to me yesterday: 'Barbara,' he always calls me Barbara when he +is serious, 'I like that little lady. You would please me if you would +model your manners after hers. You are a bit hoydenish in your ways, +and it grieves me. Fine manners are to a girl as the perfume is to a +flower.' I said, copy-book style: 'Honored and respected parent, after +having brought me up according to military regulations, don't you think it +is a little unjust to twit me with my manners? If they are lacking, blame +the code, not me.' And then I saluted, and retired, gracefully, I hope. At +any rate the shot told for I heard him laughing as I went out. Now, +Miss Vance, let me have a lesson. I suppose it's proper to begin with +prunes and prisms. There! do I say that right?" + +"Oh, Bob," cried Jeanne laughing as Bob perked up her mouth in a funny +little grimace. "What a girl you are!" + +"I hope you are well," went on Bob with a fine affectation of young +ladyism. "Beautiful weather we're having, aren't we? There! Do you think +dad will like that?" + +"I like you better your own natural self, and I think that he does too," +said Jeanne. "My ways don't suit you, Bob, and yours would not suit me. +But I am sure that you could have a fine manner without modeling after +me. I like you best just as you are." + +"So do I," said Bob, tucking her arm comfortably within Jeanne's. "And +so does dad but he doesn't know it. I don't want him to get too fond of +you." + +Night came and as usual the soldiers gathered around the fires to sing +songs and to tell stories. Presently Bob came among them to fulfill her +promise to sing to them. Jeanne accompanied her, and the Northern girl +wondered at the self-possession and ease with which the Colonel's daughter +stood before so many men and sang. But the Southern girl was so accustomed +to the soldiers that she thought nothing of it. Song after song she sang +responding with the utmost good nature to the repeated requests for +more. At last she cried: + +"Just one more, boys, and I must stop, for I am tired. What shall it be?" + +"The Bonnie Blue Flag," cried several voices. + +"Very well," and Bob began instantly: + + "'We are a band of brothers, and natives to the soil, + Fighting for the property we gained by honest toil; + And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far, + Hurrah for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star! + + * * * * * * * + + "'Then here's to our Confederacy; strong we are and brave; + Like patriots of old we'll fight our heritage to save; + And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer; + So cheer for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star. + + "'Then cheer, boys, cheer; raise the joyous shout, + For Arkansas and North Carolina now have both gone out; + And let another rousing cheer for Tennessee be given. + The single star of the bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be eleven.'" + +"Three cheers for the bonnie Blue Flag," called a voice and with a shout +the soldiers responded. + +"Now three for our beloved president, Jefferson Davis! And three for the +Confederacy!" The men responded lustily. + +"And three cheers and a tiger for Miss Bob, the child of the regiment," +shouted another enthusiastically. + +These had scarcely died away when some one called. "Why can't the 'Little +Yank' give us a song?" + +"Yes, yes; the 'Little Yank,'" came from all sides. + +For a moment Jeanne hesitated, and then she stepped forward into the +place which Bob had vacated. Her heart beat fast as she looked into the +expectant faces before her. + +"I will sing of a flag too," she said in clear thrilling tones. With a +quick motion she drew the stars and stripes from her bosom and shaking +out its folds began earnestly: + + "'Oh! say can you see by the dawn's early light, + What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming, + Whose stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight, + O'er the ramparts we watch'd were so gallantly streaming; + And the rockets, red glare, the bombs bursting in air, + Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there!'" + +For a few moments every one was still amazed at the girl's audacity, but +as the last strain of the first stanza came from her lips a hoarse, angry +murmur went up from the soldiers, and there was a movement toward her. +But Jeanne heeded it not and in triumphant tones began the chorus: + + "'Oh! say, does that star spangled banner yet wave, + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!'" + +"Chuck that!" growled one of the men. + +"Stow it, or it will be the worst for you," called another. + +"You asked me to sing," said the girl undauntedly. "And I will choose my +own song." + +"She is right," and Colonel Peyton pushed his way to her side. "You asked +her, boys, and she can sing what she chooses. Take your medicine like men." + +Sullenly the soldiers settled back into their places while Jeanne +courageously finished her song. + +"It wasn't right," said Bob angrily as Jeanne joined her. "You didn't +treat the boys right. If dad hadn't been there they wouldn't have stood +it." + +"If they don't want to hear such things they must not ask me to sing," +cried Jeanne, her eyes blazing. "I am compelled to hear treason every day." + +"You don't need to stay here," flashed Bob. + +"I am sure that I don't want to," answered Jeanne. "I want to go to my +own people and I will go to-morrow if your father will let me. I don't +stay because I want to." + +"Well, you needn't be so glad to be rid of us," and the tears welled up +into Bob's eyes. "I am sure that we are good to you." + +"Yes; you are," and Jeanne went to her quickly. "I shall be sorry to leave +you, Bob, but I do want to see my father and my mother. It has been so +long, so long." She turned away to hide her tears. + +"Yes, it has;" and Bob put her arm within Jeanne's affectionately. "I am +sure that I don't blame you for wanting to see them. I don't know why I +say such mean things, Jeanne. I wish we didn't quarrel." + +"Maybe we can't help it," answered Jeanne, pressing her arm. + +"No; I suppose you can't help being a Yankee," said Bob, so dolefully that +Jeanne laughed. + +"I don't want to," she said. "I am not sorry that you are a Southerner, +but I wish you were for the Union." + +"Well, I don't, and so there we are! I suppose that there is just one +thing to do," and Bob nodded her head sagely, "and that is not to quarrel +any more than we can help. When we do we'll make up, won't we?" + +"Yes," answered Jeanne. "We will." + +Once more the two were friends, and thus the days passed. October waned +and soon rested with the other months of the dying year, and chill +November reigned supreme. Still the order to move did not come. There +was an uneasiness in the Colonel's manner as his scouts brought in news +each day that the country surrounding Jackson was filling up with Federals. + +One morning a number of the companies of the regiment left the camp, and +Bob confided to Jeanne the news that they expected to be in an engagement +before they returned. + +Jeanne, thrilled by the intelligence that she was so near to her own +people, sat thoughtfully in front of the tent devoted to the use of the +girls. + +"Would it not be possible," she wondered, "for me to join them? These +people are kind and good, but would it not be much better for me to be +with those of my own side? If I were with them they could send me to some +place where it would be safe for me to take the cars for home. Father and +mother must be so worried. I will see Colonel Peyton and ask him what +he thinks of it," she cried, springing to her feet. + +She hastened toward the tent of the commander, reaching it at the same +time as a number of soldiers did. A man was in their midst who, although +he wore a suit of butternut, seemed to be a prisoner. Jeanne paused as +the men stopped directly in front of her, and gave a cry of amazement at +sight of the man. + +"You," she cried, in agitated tones. "Oh, I thought that you were on our +side!" + +A loud burst of laughter came from the soldiers, and the prisoner became +very pale. + +"I reckon the 'Little Yank' has called your death sentence, pardner," said +one of the Confederates, roughly. "That shows that you are a spy all right +enough." + +"A spy," cried Jeanne, a light flooding her mind. "Oh, what have I done? +What have I done?" + +"Do not grieve," said the young man, who was none other than the officer +whom she had aided in Memphis. "They strongly suspected it any way, and +were taking me to their Commanding officer for examination." + +"There doesn't need to be much examination," said a Confederate, bluntly. +"Colonel Peyton will make short work of you." + +"Whom did you say?" cried the young man in such agonized tones that all +turned to look at him. + +"Colonel Peyton," was the reply. "Here he is now." + +"What does this mean, boys?" asked Colonel Peyton, appearing in the door +of his tent. "What is the disturbance?" + +"A feller that we caught sneaking round the camp," answered the leader, +gruffly. "He claims to be a Southerner, and I reckon he is one all right, +but his actions are decidedly suspicious. We were bringing him to you +when this girl recognized him, and called the turn on him as belonging to +the Federals." + +"He is that worst of men, a Southerner who has turned against the State +that gave him birth and who takes up arms against her," said the Colonel +sternly, yet with emotion. "I know him, men, personally. He is an officer +in the Federal army. If he was prowling about here in those clothes he +is without doubt a spy. Unhappy man," he continued, turning to the +prisoner, "what have you to say for yourself?" + +"Nothing," and the young fellow bowed his head upon his breast. + +"You know the penalty of being caught as a spy," went on the pitiless +voice of the Colonel. "A spy is one of the most dishonorable of men, and +deserves any death given him. We have not much time for such. You die +at sunrise. Take him, men, and guard him well. I believe him to be a +dangerous man." + +He turned back into his tent, and the soldiers started away with him, when +Jeanne darted to the young man's side, and caught his hand between her own. + +"Forgive me," she sobbed. "I did not know what I was doing. Forgive me." + +"Never mind, child," said the young officer, drearily. "It would have +happened any way. He knew me. I would rather have died in battle, but +after all I have been doing my duty. It is not death I fear, but----" + +"But what?" asked Jeanne, as he paused. + +"It breaks my heart to be condemned to death by my own father," came the +agonized reply. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A SURPRISE AND AN ESCAPE + + +"Your father?" cried Jeanne, in amazement. "Is Colonel Peyton your father?" + +The young man bowed in assent. + +"And he condemns you to death?" went on the girl, a horrified expression +on her face. "How could he do such a thing? Oh, how could he?" + +"By George," broke from one of the Confederates. "This is a pretty mess! +Boys, the old man has sentenced his own son to death as a spy." + +The soldiers crowded about the prisoner. Jeanne drew close to him and laid +her hand pityingly upon his arm. + +"I will tell Bob," she said. "Perhaps she can persuade your father not to +do this monstrous thing." + +"Bob! Is Bob here?" The Lieutenant looked up eagerly and then shook his +head. "No," he said, "she must not know. It would break her heart. After +all what has he done but what is just? Had it been any other Federal we +would commend him for doing his duty. He could not do other than he has +done. But say nothing to Bob. Add this to your other kindness, Miss +Jeanne. And, as this will probably be the last opportunity I shall ever +have, let me thank you also for sending me to your home." + +"Then you really went there," cried Jeanne. "You saw my father and my +mother? How did they look? Were they well? When did you leave them? Oh, +Lieutenant Peyton, do tell me all about them." + +"They are all well, or were when I left them which was two months ago. +They were as kind to me as if I had been their own son. I shall never +forget them. But they were worried because they had not heard from you. +After you left Memphis no word came to them. Child, why do you treat such +parents so? Why are you here in place of being at home? It is wrong to +subject them to so much uneasiness. They cannot think what has happened to +you?" + +"But I have written," cried Jeanne, tearfully. "And I want to get home. I +don't want to stay here one bit. I want----" + +"Men, why do you dally here with your prisoner?" came in stern tones from +Colonel Peyton who had approached the group unobserved. "I desire that +no further communication be allowed between this man and that girl. Are +they not both Federals?" + +"Being as he was your son, Colonel," said the leader, saluting, "we +thought----" + +"Your business is to obey orders, not to think," interrupted the officer +brusquely. "He is no son of mine. My son died to me long ago." + +"Dad," cried the cheery voice of Bob as she came toward him. "They say +that you have caught a spy. Where is he? Why----" Her gaze fell upon the +prisoner and she stopped short. "Frank," she cried, shrilly, "it's Frank! +Oh, dad, what does it mean?" + +"It means," said the Colonel, trying to draw her away, "that you have no +brother, Bob. This man is nothing to you. He is a spy and as such dies +at sunrise." + +"At sunrise!" shrieked Bob. "No, no!" + +"Away with that fellow," ordered the Colonel, harshly. "And mind! I shall +hold each one of you personally responsible for his safety. Bob," as the +soldiers bore his son away, "you are under arrest. Go to your quarters and +stay there until I release you. And you also," to Jeanne. + +"You have no right to arrest me, Colonel Peyton," said Jeanne coldly. "I +refuse to obey any man who sentences his own son to death." + +"You refuse to obey me?" cried the Colonel, loth to believe his ears. "Me?" + +"Yes, sir, you. I do not consider myself under arrest. You have no right +to put me there. I am neither your daughter nor your slave," and Jeanne +put her arm around Bob and faced him defiantly. + +"There are ways of enforcing obedience, young lady," said the Colonel. +"Bob, to your quarters." + +"But, dad,----" + +"To your quarters," commanded her father sternly. "Johnson," to a soldier, +"see that these girls are well-guarded until I give other orders." + +And so it came about that a guard was placed about their tent and the +girls found themselves as closely watched as if they were indeed +prisoners. In the afternoon as they sat disconsolately together a +confusion without told that something unusual was going on. Jeanne went to +the aperture in the front of the tent and looked out. + +"What is it?" she asked of the sentry. + +"Our men coming back," was the answer. "They have a number of prisoners +and have captured some fine horses." + +Jeanne reported the news to Bob, but she received it apathetically. So +overcome by grief was she that she appeared to no longer care for anything. + +"Bob," said Jeanne suddenly, "can't we do something to help your brother?" + +"I am afraid not," answered Bob in heartbroken accents. "What can we do? +We are only girls. What can we do?" + +"Well, we can make an effort. I will never forgive myself if I don't do +something for him." + +"Why should you care?" asked Bob listlessly. "He is not your brother." + +"No, Bob, he isn't. But he is one of our officers, and I intend to help +him get away. It would be an awful thing for him to die by the hand of +his father." + +"What are you going to do?" asked Bob looking at her with a gleam of +interest. + +"I don't know. I have been thinking all day and I don't know," said +Jeanne. "But we must do something. I did not think that your father could +be so cruel." + +"He is doing his duty," said Bob with pale lips. "Poor dad! Jeanne, you +think him hard-hearted, but I know that this will kill him. Poor, poor +dad!" + +"Then if he cares why does he condemn his son to death?" asked Jeanne in +surprise. + +"Because he came here as a spy, and dad could not overlook that fact +even if he is his son. Dad must regard Frank as a Federal, Jeanne. He is +bound to as a Confederate officer." + +"But you are not bound. Surely you are not going to let your brother die +without trying to save him?" + +"Dad will never forgive me," said Bob weakly. "And yet I can't let Frank +die." + +"Of course not," answered Jeanne. "Now, Bob, let's think hard. Maybe +between us we can get some plan." + +But the time passed, and darkness found them still with no plan matured. + +"We will save our rations," said Bob as their supper was handed in to +them. "Frank ought to have them to take with him if he succeeds in +escaping. If he doesn't we won't care to eat." + +So they carefully put up the food into a small package, and again fell +to discussing ways and means for the escape of Lieutenant Peyton. + +"Bob," exclaimed Jeanne presently, "do you know that I have not heard the +guard patrol our tent for a long time?" + +Bob listened intently, and then sprang to her feet. + +"It's true," she exclaimed excitedly. "I wonder what the reason is?" + +They ran to the door of the tent and peered out cautiously. There seemed +to be a commotion of some kind in camp. Men were hurrying to and fro; +bayonets rattled, and the subdued murmur of many voices plainly told that +an unusual movement was on foot. The girls looked on breathlessly and +presently they heard the order given for the men to fall in line. Then +"Forward, March!" came the command and the ranks filed out of the camp +on the double quick, the Colonel at their head. + +"Something's up," said Bob with conviction. "Let's go down to where the +prisoners are, Jeanne, and see how the land lies. Then maybe we will know +what to do." + +Silently Jeanne signified her assent and the two stole quietly through +the long rows of tents to where the prisoners were. + +"There is but one guard," whispered Bob in delight. "See, Jeanne! Frank +lies the closest to the fire. He is bound too, hand and foot." + +"I see," whispered Jeanne. "Let's get closer, Bob." + +Cautiously they approached nearer to the men. Presently Jeanne uttered +an exclamation and stopped stock still. + +"What is it?" asked Bob quickly. "Did you hurt yourself?" + +"Bob," whispered Jeanne in great agitation, "do you see that young fellow +just beyond Frank? The one with the yellow hair, I mean." + +"Yes, Jeanne. Why?" + +"That is my brother Dick. They shan't have Dick, Bob. Not if I had to face +the whole Confederate army myself." + +"Jeanne, is it truly Dick? Aren't you mistaken? Maybe it's only some one +who looks like him." + +"It's Dick," said Jeanne positively. "Watch him. He will know my voice." +Regardless of caution she began singing softly the then popular melody: + + "'Will you come with me, my Phillis dear, + To yon blue mountain free, + Where the blossoms smell the sweetest, + Come rove along with me. + It's every Sunday morning, + When I am by your side, + We'll jump into the wagon, + And all take a ride.'" + +Bob watched the young fellow as Jeanne's voice floated out upon the night +air. The boy, he was scarcely more than that, raised himself to a sitting +posture instantly, a blank look of amazement upon his face. + +"Miss Bob," came from the guard, "it's against orders for either you or +the 'Little Yank' to be about the prisoners. I'm mighty sorry, but you'll +have to go." + +"Johnson," said Bob coaxingly, "haven't I always been good to you?" + +"Yes, Miss Bob." + +"Who looked after you when you were wounded, and cooked for you, and wrote +your letters to your wife?" + +"Miss Bob, for goodness sake don't tell me any of those things now. The +Colonel's away, and there are just a few of us left to guard the prisoners +and the camp. 'Tain't right, Miss Bob." + +"You said that there was nothing that you would not do for me," went on +Bob inexorably. + +"And I meant it," said the poor fellow. "I know what you mean. I know +that's your brother. But you must not ask it of me. Please, Miss Bob." + +"I'm only going to ask you to turn your back for ten minutes," said Bob. + +"And his knife," whispered Jeanne tremblingly. "Get his knife, Bob." + +"Turn your back for ten minutes," repeated Bob, "and lend me your knife." + +"For the love of mercy, Miss Bob," pleaded Johnson, "don't ask this of +me. It means worse than death to me. It is a betrayal of trust." + +"Your knife, Johnson," and Bob held out her hand. "What would your wife +think of your refusing me anything?" + +"Take it," said the man with the resignation of despair. "The Colonel will +have me shot like a dog, but take it. I cannot refuse." + +He handed her the knife and then turned his back full upon the prisoners. + +"Quick," whispered Jeanne. "Cut your brother's bonds first, and then let +me have the knife." + +She ran to her brother's side as she spoke and threw her arms about him. + +"Dick, Dick," she said kissing him repeatedly. "I am going to cut the +cords that bind you. Then you must run for your life." + +"Jeanne," came the amazed voice of the lad, "how in the name of all that's +wonderful, did you come here?" + +"I am well and happy," cried Jeanne hurriedly. "I cannot tell you more +now, but I am going home soon. Don't mind about me. Bob, hurry, hurry, +before Johnson turns." + +"There!" said Bob flinging her the knife. Rising to her feet triumphantly +she called to her friend. "Be quick, Jeanne! Johnson is looking at his +watch." + +"Run, boys," panted Jeanne as the keen edge of the blade severed the cord +that bound her brother's feet. "If you value your lives, run like the +wind." + +Frank Peyton needed no second bidding. He was off but Dick Vance hesitated +as he glanced at his sister. + +"She is safe," cried Bob, reading his glance aright. "I will answer for +her with my life. Go! Go! Don't look yet, Johnson. One minute more in +pity!" + +"No;" and Johnson wheeled round. "Your brother is gone, but not another +prisoner goes. I am not beholden to any Federal." He swung his gun to his +shoulder just as Dick darted away. + +With a scream of terror Jeanne threw herself upon him while Bob caught +hold of the musket. + +"It's my brother," shrieked Jeanne. "You must not, you shall not shoot!" + +"Well, I'll be switched," growled Johnson in disgusted tones. "Does the +whole Federal army happen to be related to you two girls? This is a pretty +affair! But that Yank doesn't get away if the Colonel's son does." + +Shaking himself free from their clinging hands he fired two shots in the +direction that Dick Vance had taken. As other men came running up they +gave chase to the fugitives. + +"They dare not follow far," comforted Bob, as Jeanne gave vent to a flood +of tears. "They won't dare to leave the camp long." + +"Come then," and Jeanne dashed away her tears as an idea flashed into her +mind. "Let's call them back." + +She took Bob's hand and ran with her to another part of the camp. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +DICK TO THE FORE + + +Jeanne uttered an exclamation of joy as she stumbled upon a musket that +for some reason had been thrown aside. + +"This is the very thing," she cried. + +"What are you going to do?" asked Bob. + +"I am going to make the guards think that we are attacked," answered +Jeanne, swinging the gun to her shoulder as she had seen the men do. +Before the other could stop her she had pulled the trigger. There was +a flash followed by a loud report, and with a groan Jeanne fell prone +upon the earth. + +"Jeanne," shrieked Bob, falling beside her. "Jeanne, are you hurt? Oh, +she's shot! She's shot!" + +"Miss Bob! Miss Bob, where are you?" shouted the voices of the soldiers, +and a number of those who had been left to guard the camp ran hither and +thither in confusion. + +"To arms!" came the hoarse command of an officer. "We are attacked." + +"Here! Oh, come here!" called Bob as Jeanne lay groaning upon the ground. +"Captain Dallas, come here!" + +In a few moments the soldiers were about them. Captain Dallas raised the +fallen girl carefully. + +"Where are you hurt?" he asked gently. "Which way did the shot come?" + +"It was the gun," moaned Jeanne, feebly finding herself able to talk. "It +went off at the wrong end." + +"Well, by George," cried the Captain bursting into a laugh, "we're nicely +fooled, boys. The girl isn't shot. She fired the gun herself. The musket +kicked. That's all. Now you girls go to bed," he ordered sternly, "and +let's have no more nonsense." + +"But Dick," said Jeanne, getting upon her feet. "You haven't caught Dick, +have you?" + +"If you mean the fellow that left with the Colonel's son, no," answered +the Captain. "We can't spare the men to give chase, but there will be +a reckoning for somebody when Colonel Peyton gets back. Now go to bed. +You'll let us keep the rest of our prisoners, I reckon," he added with +sarcasm. + +"Oh, yes," said Bob, laughing a little hysterically. "It was just our +brothers that we were after." + +"Better go to the surgeon and get something for that shoulder," called +the Captain as they started off. "It's liable to be pretty lame for a few +days." + +Bob profited by his advice and sought the surgeon who gave her some +liniment to rub on it, but the morning found it still so lame that Jeanne +retained her bed. + +On the morning of the third day the Colonel and his men returned, worn +and jaded looking. There were no prisoners, and from the spiritless +condition of the soldiers it looked as though they had been on a fruitless +enterprise. + +"And if that is the case," remarked Bob to Jeanne, "dad will be in an +awful humor, and we'll catch it." + +It was afternoon before Colonel Peyton sought their presence. Bob's face +blanched as her father entered the tent, but Jeanne, strong in the belief +that Dick was safe, faced him boldly. + +"I want to hear the whole of this affair," said Colonel Peyton quietly +ignoring his daughter's greeting. "Barbara, tell me just what happened." + +Briefly Bob related the facts of the night's occurrence. Her father +listened attentively. + +"And you threw up to Johnson the benefits conferred upon him," he said +as Bob finished her narrative. "I would not have believed it of you, +Barbara. Johnson has been court-martialed and sentenced to the guard +house for one month. The officers were merciful because that unhappy +boy was my son. But I cannot risk a second offense of this nature. +Hereafter, you will occupy quarters next to my own. I did not dream +that my daughter would so far forget what was due to herself as to aid +in the escape of the enemies of her country. I cannot but think it +owing to the companionship of the past few weeks. That you may not be +influenced further I forbid you to have any further communication with +this girl. As for you," turning to Jeanne and speaking sternly, "as I have +passed my word to you that you shall be sent to the Federal lines it +shall be done. We leave for Jackson to-morrow. At the first opportunity +I will send you to your people. Meantime, may I ask that you refrain +from any intercourse whatever with my daughter? It is the smallest +return that you can make, in view of your conduct of the last few days." + +"I have no desire to do other than you wish, Colonel Peyton," said Jeanne +proudly. "I am not sorry for anything I have done. Were it to do over, I +would not hesitate for a moment to do anything I could to restore either +my brother or your son to liberty. I am very sorry if my conduct has not +pleased you. I should think that you would be glad to be saved from being +the slayer of your son." + +"We will not discuss the matter," said the Colonel coldly. "Come, +Barbara, I will take you to your quarters, and under pain of my severest +displeasure, I expect that you will have no more to say to this young +person." + +Bob gave Jeanne a long sad look, and then silently gathering up her +belongings, left the tent. + +And now began a dreary time for Jeanne. Cold looks greeted her on every +side. The old, pleasant, cheery companionship with Bob was no more. She +missed even the tiffs they had had, and longed with a passionate yearning +for home and friends. The march to Jackson would have been a pleasant one +as it led through the autumn woods which shone through a silvery mist +amid spicy breezes which blew cool and keen from the heart of the pines, +had it not been for the manner in which she was treated. + +No one paid the least attention to her comings and goings. Indeed it +seemed to her that Colonel Peyton would gladly welcome the fact of her +disappearance, and so she grew into the habit of riding a little apart +from the others and sometimes of loitering considerably in the rear of the +cavalcade. It had been the original intention that she go in the wagon +with Bob, but under the altered conditions a horse had been given her +while Bob rode in front with her father. + +The afternoon of the second day out Jeanne dropped behind the regiment, +for she was very tired, intending to wait for the wagons and to ask the +drivers to let her rest for a while in one of them. A bend of the road +hid the regiment from view. The wagons were far in the rear and for the +time she was alone. + +"Jeanne," came her name in low tones from the underbrush at the side of +the road. + +Jeanne drew rein quickly and looked wonderingly about her. She saw nothing +and thinking that she had imagined the call, she started to go on, when +it came again. + +"Jeanne! Jeanne! Wait a moment." + +Pale and trembling the girl stopped, and then to her astonishment Dick +came breathlessly though the undergrowth. + +"Dick!" she cried. "Oh, Dick!" + +"I have waited and watched for this chance ever since I left the camp," +cried the lad. "Come with me, Jeanne. You have no business with these +rebels." + +"But Colonel Peyton----" began Jeanne. + +"Come," cried Dick seizing the bridle of her horse. "I do not understand +why you are here, but it is no place for you. I will take you home." + +"Will you, Dick?" asked the girl joyfully, preparing to dismount. + +"Don't get off the horse. We will need him. I don't know just where our +men are, and we may have a long distance to go." + +"But he is not ours," objected Jeanne, whose residence among soldiers had +not been long enough to render her conscience elastic on this point. + +"Yes, he is," answered Dick. "The Government confiscated all the property +belonging to the Johnnies long ago, and I guess this horse comes under +that act. I am only doing my duty in taking the animal." + +"Do you think so?" asked Jeanne, dubiously. + +"Certainly, I do," and the lad led the horse away from the road into the +thicket. "I thought I was going to have lots of trouble to get you away +from those people," he said, when they were a safe distance. + +"They don't care anything about me," said the girl, sadly. "O Dick, I've +had such a time!" + +"There! There!" Dick drew her head against his shoulder caressingly. +"It's all over now. I'll take care of you. But tell me, Jeanne, how in +the world did you come down here in this benighted country? I left you +safe at home in New York and find you here. How did it happen?" + +"I thought that perhaps father had written," and Jeanne looked up through +her tears. + +"No; I have not heard from the folks for quite a while, but we have been +on the march, and I was taken prisoner. I know that there are letters for +me somewhere." + +"Then I will begin at the beginning," said Jeanne, stroking his hair +tenderly. "Oh, Dick, it is so good to be with some one who belongs to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +RECAPTURE + + +"We must not stay here, Jeanne," said Dick, after his sister had finished +her narrative. "We must strike out for the Mississippi River. Once there +we may see some of our boats. That will be our best show for getting to +our lines." + +"Is it far to the river, Dick?" + +"I don't know, Jeanne. If I felt sure that Colonel Peyton would send you +to our men, I would let you go on with him, but after the treatment given +you, I don't like to let you go back." + +"No; let me stay with you, Dick. I feel as if I never wanted to see a +rebel again." + +"You are liable to see a good many of them before we are out of this," +remarked Dick. "The woods are full of them. I fear----" + +"What?" asked Jeanne, as the lad paused. + +"For you, sister. It will be a long, hard journey. I wish I had known +just how matters stood and I would have left you where you were. You +have shown yourself a brave girl, and it will take all your courage and +resolution now to stand up under the perils we will have to encounter. I +wish we had some money. The Johnnies aren't averse to taking our money +for all their devotion to their cause. It would help us wonderfully." + +"See here, Dick!" Jeanne took a roll of bills from her dress. "Will this +be enough?" + +"Where did you get it?" cried Dick in delight. "Why, this is fine!" + +"Father gave it to me just before I left," answered Jeanne. "He little +thought that it would help us both to get back to him. I know Aunt +Clarisse would have taken it if she had remembered telling me to hide it." + +"Father will have a settling with Uncle Ben and his wife," cried the boy, +his eyes flashing. "I'd just like to meet the lady myself. I don't think +she'd like what she would hear!" + +"I know it," and the girl looked at him admiringly. "I just feel as if my +troubles were all over. What a soldier you are, Dick!" + +"You are a pretty good one yourself," answered Dick. "I had no idea, +Jeanne, that you could stand fire as you did on that transport. Why, I +have known big men to be afraid in a battle." + +"It's the blood," observed the girl, sagely. "How could we be other than +brave, when our ancestors fought in the Revolution? We just can't help it." + +Dick laughed. + +"Ancestors don't seem to help some fellows I know," he said. "You'd be +surprised at some of the things they do. They play sick, fall in behind +the rest of us, or do anything in the world to get out of the way of +the bullets. The queer part of the whole thing is that those who expose +themselves the most rarely get hurt while the shots seek the cowards." + +Thus conversing the two pursued their journey. Darkness came on, and Dick +proposed a halt and rest for the night. + +"There are so many swamps," he said, "and so many of those things they +call bayous that I like to see where I am going. You won't be afraid to +stay out all night, will you? There isn't a house in sight, and it might +not be safe for us to go to it if there were." + +"I am not afraid with you, Dick. But it does look rather ghost-like, +doesn't it, with all that moss hanging from the trees?" + +"Yes; the forest is not so fine as our own Adirondacks. I don't like this +country anyway. There are cypress swamps and malaria every time you turn +round. Malaria has killed more of the boys than all the shots the rebs +ever fired. You won't get sick, will you?" + +"I stood New Orleans in the summertime," said the girl, "and they said +down there that anybody who could live there through the summer could live +anywhere. But you have not told me how you came to be down here." + +"Our regiment was sent to Corinth," answered Dick. "With a few others +I was taken prisoner during the battle there. General Van Dorn sent us to +Jackson, and from there we were to be taken by rail to Richmond, Virginia. +For some reason the orders were changed, and we were marched on foot to +your camp. What they intended to do with us is more than I know. I tell +you, I was glad to be free again." + +"You are so pale," said Jeanne, touching him gently. "Are you well, Dick?" + +"Fine! Just need a good square meal to set me up all right," answered +the boy cheerily. "I haven't had very much to eat since you girls set me +free. Just what I could find in the woods. Herbs and wild grapes, and +persimmons. I eat the green ones mostly." + +"But why?" asked Jeanne mystified. "The ripe ones are ever so much better. +I like them now, although I didn't at first." + +"The green ones are best if you don't have much to eat," rejoined Dick. +"They are fine to draw the stomach up to fit the supply. Say, Jeanne, +don't you wish we had some of mother's doughnuts?" + +"You poor, poor boy," cried Jeanne laughing, but there were tears in her +eyes. "I wish we were where we could get them. Will the war last much +longer, Dick?" + +"I am afraid so," was the lad's reply. "The rebs have played the mischief +this fall, and it looks as if all our work had to be done over again. Now, +Jeanne, you go to sleep, or you won't be fit to travel to-morrow." + +"And what will you do?" + +"Watch while you sleep. Never mind me. I am used to it. I have often stood +guard, and can do it just as well as not." + +"I don't believe that anything will bother us, brother. I wish you would +sleep too." + +"No," said Dick sturdily, "not now." + +Jeanne tried to obey him but sleep would not come to her. The dark pines +were on all sides of them. The owls hooted dismally, and the chill wind +sobbed and moaned fitfully in the pine trees. Presently Dick stooped over +her. + +"Are you cold, Jeanne?" + +"Yes, Dick. And I can't sleep a bit. Can't we talk, or walk, or do +something?" + +"We will walk," decided Dick. "I think that the horse must be rested by +this time. What is his name?" + +"Robert E. Lee," answered Jeanne in a hesitating tone fearing that Dick +might not like the animal to be so called. "Bob called him 'Rel' for +short, and so do I because I don't like the full name." + +"Lee is a fine general," commented Dick. "If we had had him on our side +to begin with, the war would have been over by this time. I hope the horse +is worthy of his name. Take my hand, Jeanne, and we will start." + +Throwing the rein over his shoulder Dick guided himself by the stars +and the brother and sister again took up their journey to the westward. +Slowly they proceeded, stopping occasionally to rest and picking their +way carefully through the forest. At last, just at the break of day, +they came to a clearing in the woods in which stood a cabin. The blue +smoke curled invitingly from the chimney, and in the open door stood a +venerable darky. + +"It's darkies," cried Dick joyfully. "They will give us something to eat." + +They hurried forward. The old man stared at them as they approached him. + +"Could you give us some breakfast, sir?" asked Dick. "We are willing to +pay well for it. We are Unionists." + +"'Meriky," called the old man excitedly, "hyar's two ob Massa Linkum's +folks wantin' sumthing ter eat. Yes, suh; kum in, suh. We'll gib yer what +we've got. Kum in!" + +Gladly they entered. A bright looking colored woman surrounded by half a +dozen pickaninnies of all ages and sizes from two to fifteen was busily +preparing the morning meal. She bustled forward bowing and courtesying +as they entered. + +"Kum in an' welcome," she said. "Lawsie, you is one ob Massa Linkum's +sojers sho' nuff. Hain't neber seed one befo'. We all jest lubs Fadder +Abraham, suh." + +"And the horse?" said Dick suggestively. + +"Dat's all right, suh. Hyar, Geo'ge Washington! Done yer see de gem'man's +hoss a stan'ing dere? Gib him sum fodder." + +With homely but cheerful hospitality they pressed the viands upon them. +It seemed to Jeanne that nothing had ever tasted so good before, and +she could not but gaze in wonder at the quantity of hominy, molasses, +cornbread and rye coffee that Dick managed to stow away. + +"What would it have been if he hadn't eaten the green persimmons," she +wondered. + +"You all is a moughty long ways from your lines," remarked the old man +as Dick told them that he been taken prisoner and was making his escape. +"Dere's sojers all 'bout in dese hyar woods. 'Clar ter goodness I done +see how yer gwine ter git away from 'em." + +"We'll manage," said Dick hopefully. He felt now that he could face all of +Van Dorn's brigade. "Take this, my friend, and tell us the best road to +reach the Mississippi River." + +"Thankky kindly, massa," said the old darky, taking the dollar bill that +Dick gave him with the eagerness of a child. "See hyar, 'Meriky, it's +Linkum money. Good Linkum money!" + +"Sho' nuff it am," cried 'Merica examining it. "Thankky, suh; and you too, +missy. Ef yer eber sees Massa Linkum tell him how we all lubs him, an' +dat we am a lookin' fohwa'd ter resting in his bosom." + +"I will," said Jeanne with quick courtesy as a suspicious sound came from +Dick's direction. "Perhaps some day you will see him for yourself." + +"De Lohd grant it," came from the negroes fervently. "De good buk done +promised dat we shall lie in Fadder Abraham's bosom, an' we knows we will. +Tell him we's 'spectin' it suah ter kum ter pass." + +"Though how Lincoln is going to take them all into his bosom passes my +comprehension," was Dick's laughing comment as they went on their way. + +"I think that he has done it already, Dick," said the girl with truer +insight than the boy. "They know it too, poor souls! I hope that they +will get to see him. I think if I were a negro I would walk all the way +to Washington to do it." + +They were fortunate enough to obtain some ears of corn from the home of +a poor white, the woman being so suspicious of them that she would not +permit them to enter her house. She gladly however took the money they +offered and gave them the corn. + +To all inquiries concerning the Mississippi River they were told that if +they kept on in the same direction that they were going they would reach +it in time. + +"All of which is very specific," growled Dick as he threw himself under +a tree and declared a halt. "I wonder if any of them ever saw the river in +their lives." + +"I don't believe that they have," said Jeanne. "I found out in New Orleans +that these people that they call 'poor whites' are very ignorant. But +we'll reach it some way, Dick." + +"Yes; I begin to think that we will," said Dick complacently. "I wish that +I had a Confederate uniform though. These clothes are rather conspicuous." + +"Dick," cried Jeanne in horrified tones, "you would not wear that uniform +for a minute, would you?" + +"Wouldn't I?" chuckled Dick. "I wish I had a chance to try. Then we would +not have to skulk along this way but would go boldly to the nearest town +and board a train, and there we'd be!" + +"I would not wear one," declared Jeanne. + +"It wouldn't change my principles," said Dick. "The clothes don't make +the man only in the eyes of other people, and that is what we want now. I +would be just as true a Unionist as I am now, and it would be much safer +for us both. A uniform and a gun are just what I need. I am going to get +them!" + +He rose determinedly as he spoke and helped Jeanne on the horse. + +"Get on too, Dick," she pleaded. "You have walked all the time and your +shoes are in tatters. Please get up too." + +To please her Dick climbed up before her, and they started off at a brisk +pace. Suddenly from a bend in the road before them a body of rebel cavalry +cantered into view. Jeanne tittered a cry of alarm but Dick setting his +teeth made a quick dash into the woods. + +The rebels had seen them, however, and giving vent to their terrible yell, +they dashed in pursuit. + +"Surrender," cried the leader as they drew near the hapless pair. +"Surrender!" + +"Never!" cried Dick, furiously urging his horse to greater speed. A shower +of bullets fell about them. The horse stumbled and then swayed heavily. +Dick leaped from the animal's back and swung Jeanne to the ground just +as the poor brute fell. Throwing his arms about his sister the boy faced +the men defiantly. + +"You are our prisoner, Yank," yelled the leader as they surrounded them. + +"My sister," came from the lad's lips. His face was very pale and a +despairing look came into his eyes. He tottered and fell as he spoke. + +"Dick!" shrieked Jeanne, frantically flinging herself beside him. "Dick, +Dick!" + +"Wounded," was the terse remark of the Captain as he made a brief +examination. "By George, but he showed pluck to face us as he did! Look +here, boys." + +Turning back the lad's shirt he showed a gaping wound in his chest. With a +cry of agony at the sight, the world turned dark to Jeanne, and she fell +prostrate across the form of her brother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +VICKSBURG + + +When Jeanne recovered consciousness she knew by the rumbling and roaring +that she was on board a train. The riding was very rough, and hardly +realizing where she was she began to feel about her for the cushions, +weakly wondering where the lights were. It came to her with a sudden +shock as her fingers touched nothing but wood that she was lying prone +upon the floor of some sort of a car with not even a blanket under her. + +The knowledge brought back the full remembrance of what had happened, and +she sat up quickly and tried to peer about her. + +"Dick," she called. "Dick!" + +A low moan was the answer. Guided by the sound Jeanne groped her way in +its direction, and soon came in contact with the prostrate form of the boy. + +"Dick," she cried again. "Dick, is it you?" + +"Jeanne," came the reply, in weak tones, "are you safe? I called but you +did not answer. I did not know you were here. What has happened? Were you +asleep?" + +"I think I must have fainted, Dick," answered Jeanne, as steadily as she +could, for the thought of Dick's wound sickened her, and she was still +weak from her swoon. "But I am all right. How do you feel, brother? Are +you suffering much pain?" + +"It is terrible," groaned the boy. "It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for +the jolting." + +"It must be dreadful," said Jeanne, with aching heart. "Let me see if I +can't help that a little." + +She crawled close to his side, and seating herself with the side of the +car for a brace, gently lifted his head and shoulders into her lap. + +"Is that better?" she asked, as Dick settled back heavily. + +"Yes, dear; but I am afraid that it will be hard on you." + +"Oh, no! It makes me feel so much better to be able to do something +for you. It breaks my heart to have you suffer. Didn't those people do +anything for you?" + +"The surgeon dressed my wound when they reached the station. Then they +threw me into this box car. I felt worse because I didn't know what had +become of you." + +"Now you must rest," said Jeanne, holding him tenderly against her. "We +are still together, Dick. You must sleep if you can." + +And so through all the long dark night the girl held her wounded brother, +and strove to break the jolting of the rough car. Her arms ached from +their burden, and her limbs were numb, but she breathed no word of +discomfort. + +Sometimes Dick would fall into a fitful sleep in which he murmured +feverishly and then he would awake with a start, but Jeanne was always +awake to soothe him and to quiet his wandering fancy. + +At last the long hours of darkness passed, as the longest and darkest +must, and the sun rose lightening up even the gloomy box car with its +rays. Pale and wan Dick looked in the morning light and Jeanne's heart +was very full as she gazed at him. + +"What would mother say if she could see him?" she thought. "Oh, if she +were only here to take care of him! But she can't be and I must do my +best. God help me!" + +About nine o'clock the train slowed down and presently pulled into a +station. After a long time the doors of the car opened and some +Confederate soldiers appeared. + +"All out for Vicksburg," called one facetiously. + +"Shut up!" said another. "Don't you see that the boy is wounded and the +girl doesn't look any better than he does." + +"What are you going to do with him?" cried Jeanne in alarm as two of the +men lifted Dick up. + +"Take him to the provost marshal and then to the hospital. He is our +prisoner, you know." + +"Then you must take me right along with him," said Jeanne, decidedly, +rising stiffly. "I suppose I am a prisoner too." + +"I rather reckon so," was the dry reply. + +Jeanne said no more but followed closely after the man as Dick was carried +into the station. The depot was thronged with soldiers waiting to go +out to the batteries. She obtained her first glimpse of the "Gibraltar +of the South" as she drove through its streets by Dick's side, in an +ambulance. + +The city presented a fine appearance situated as it was on the wooded +summits of the Walnut Hills. From these elevations the flat alluvial +country around could be seen in every direction, which with its forests +of oaks and cottonwood interspersed with extensive plantations, formed a +picture of great panoramic beauty. The main portion of the city lay +near the water front and above it the hills were crowned with elegant +private residences, and made conspicuous by the high walls of the public +buildings. The court-house, a large structure of light gray limestone, +crowned the summit of one of the hills and was one of the first objects +to catch the eye. The streets rose from the river with an abrupt difficult +ascent and were cut through the bluffs and hills directly to the edge of +the levee. + +With something approaching awe Jeanne gazed at the formidable batteries +which had been erected to dispute the advance of the Federals. The +most of them were near the lower end of the town as if the greatest +danger were to be apprehended from that point. One tier was near the top +of the bluff, another about halfway down from the summit to the water. A +single row of water batteries was located near the brink of the river to +repel all attacks made at close range. The batteries on the hills causing +more trouble to the Unionists than those lower down as none of the +Federal guns could be elevated sufficiently to reach them while their +shot could be made to plunge through the decks and disable whatever +boats or vessels came within their range. As Jeanne gazed on these +formidable defenses she could not but wonder how the transport had +escaped destruction. + +The provost marshal was reached at last and Dick's name and regiment were +duly registered. Then the provost turned to Jeanne. + +"I don't know what to do with you," he said. "What were you doing?" + +"Dick and I were trying to reach the Mississippi River hoping that we +might get home," said Jeanne. + +"Were you carrying anything beyond the lines?" + +"No, sir." + +"How came you within our lines?" persisted the officer, attracted by her +youth and innocence, yet determined to probe the affair to the bottom. + +"I came from New Orleans," said Jeanne. "I was visiting my uncle. When +they left the city they took me with them but left me at a deserted +plantation. I started back to New Orleans but fell in with Colonel +Peyton's camp and he was bringing me to Jackson where he said that he +would send me to our side. I met Dick and so went with him because he +is my brother." + +"But what was Dick doing here?" queried the man. "What business has a +Union soldier in this part of the country?" + +"I was a prisoner," answered Dick, speaking for himself. "I had escaped +and when I knew that my sister was in the hands of you fellows I waited to +take her away." + +And Dick awaited the effect of his bold declaration anxiously for he was +uneasy for his sister. + +"I don't know what to do with you," said the provost again. + +"Let me go with Dick," pleaded Jeanne eagerly. "He is wounded as you see, +sir, and needs care and attention. Please let me go with him. I won't be a +bit of trouble." + +"I don't know but that that will be the best way out of the difficulty," +remarked the officer musingly. "At least until I can investigate further. +What was the name of your uncle?" + +"Vance, sir. Benjamin Vance.". + +"Benjamin Vance!" exclaimed the officer in amazement. "He is well-known in +Vicksburg. Why, he and his wife are here now visiting relatives. I will +send for him at once." + +"What!" cried Jeanne. "Uncle Ben here?" + +"Right here," responded the other. "Orderly, will you send word to the +La Chaise manor that I would like Mr. Vance to come here?" + +The Orderly saluted and left the room. The provost turned his attention to +other matters while Dick and Jeanne waited with beating hearts the return +of the man. + +In about an hour's time the Orderly returned and with him came the +well-known form of Mr. Vance. Behind him, her silken skirts rustling, her +face wreathed in smiles, her manner full of smirks and graces, walked +Madame Vance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MADAME AGAIN + + +"You dear child," cried Madame embracing Jeanne rapturously. "You cannot +imagine how desolate I have been at losing you. I was frantic when I +learned you were left behind. We went back for you, but you had gone. Ma +foi! You should have waited for our return." + +"Your story being so amiably verified," said the provost beaming upon the +girl, "I am happy to say there is no reason why you should not return to +your relatives. I am charmed to have assisted in reuniting you to your +honored family." + +"We will never forget it," said the lady sweetly. "If we are ever so +fortunate as to have the opportunity to repay the obligation, rest assured +that we will gladly use it. My sweet child, is this your brother? The +Orderly spoke of him as we came down." + +"Yes," said Jeanne hesitatingly. She was not at all pleased at the turn +affairs had taken, and did not relish the idea of being once more in the +hands of Madame. "Yes, this is Dick, Uncle Ben. You know that he bears +your name also: Richard Benjamin Vance." + +She drew near Dick as she spoke, standing between Madame and her brother, +and addressing herself to her uncle only. + +"Richard, I am glad to see you," said Mr. Vance, seizing the boy's hand +and speaking so heartily that Dick was bewildered. "A prisoner, they tell +me. Come! this won't do. We must have you with us for Clarisse to take +care of. She is a fine nurse!" + +"I do not want to go," said Dick weakly. The long wait was beginning to +tell upon him. "After the way that my sister has been treated I prefer +to trust to the mercy of my enemies than to receive any benefits from you." + +"My dear boy, has the little one been speaking of our differences? There +were some, I believe. She is headstrong and self-willed, but what would +you? I desire to admonish her for disobedience as a mother might, and +she grieves me by thinking that I do not love her, but I adore her! You +shall both come to us, and you shall see for yourself." + +"Yes," said Mr. Vance after a low conversation with the provost. "I have +arranged with the officer here that you shall come with us to be taken +care of. When you are well, then you must return to him. Orderly, can you +get some one to assist me in lifting my nephew to the carriage?" + +So in spite of themselves the brother and sister were placed in charge +of their uncle and his wife. The carriage bowled rapidly over the rough +streets and at last stopped before a large residence on the summit of one +of the hills. + +The building was long and low roofed, built after the Southern fashion +with wide halls and broad galleries running the entire length of the +house. It looked very inviting even to Jeanne who hovered protectingly +over her brother. + +"She shan't misuse Dick," she declared, over and over again. "She shan't +harm him." + +Dick was carried carefully into a large room and placed in a clean white +bed. A bright fire blazed upon the hearth and its heat was very welcome +after the ride in the chill November air. + +The boy, exhausted from his suffering and weak from loss of blood, +fainted as they placed him on the couch and Mr. Vance hurriedly summoned a +physician. Jeanne found herself pushed to one side while Mr. and Madame +Vance worked over the unconscious lad, but when she saw that their +ministrations were for his benefit she was content that it should be so. + +The most unremitting attention and constant care were what the boy +required declared the physician when he had made an examination. The +long ride in the rough car and exposure to chill, rendered the best of +nursing imperative. + +"If he does not have it he will die," he said. "Or if his wound breaks +out afresh it will be fatal." + +"He shall not die," cried Madame, with an adorable air of concern. "I will +care for him myself, doctor. He shall have the best of care." + +"I do not doubt it, Madame, with you for his attendant," said the +physician, gallantly. "I leave him in good hands." + +Jeanne saw with gratitude that Madame Vance did really give the best of +care to her brother, and she gladly forgave the treatment to which she had +been subjected. Occasionally she even forgot her intention of calling her +aunt "Aunt Clarisse," and the old "Cherie," came to her lips. + +"Ole missus done got huh claws on yer ergain," Snowball said to Jeanne +one morning. The negro girl had been enthusiastic in her greetings. "I +wuz moughty sorry ter see yer kum back ter huh ergain." + +"I could not help it, Snowball. I know that she does not like me any +better than she used to, but she is certainly kind to Dick and he needs +that now. Even mother could not nurse him more tenderly." + +"She done got sum crotchet in huh haid," grumbled Snowball. "Done yer be +tuk in, lill' missy. She up ter sumthing." + +The girl's words filled Jeanne with alarm. She had sometimes had the same +thought, but when she saw Madame's devotion to her brother, she dismissed +the idea from her mind. + +One day she sat by Dick's bedside alone. Madame had lain down for a little +rest, although the boy was not yet out of danger. + +"Jeanne," said the weak voice of her brother presently. + +"Yes, Dick," and the girl hastened to his side. "What is it?" + +"I wonder and wonder," said the boy, in a far away voice, "why you told me +what you did about Cherie. She is so good, so kind. The sweetest woman +that I ever knew besides my mother! Why, why did you tell me such awful +things of her, Jeanne? They are not true." + +Jeanne was aghast at the question. She stood, unable to answer, fearing +to excite him by telling the truth and yet unwilling for him to be under +the impression that her story was false. + +"Tell me," said Dick, weakly. "Why did you do it? I think of it always. +It was not like you, Jeanne." + +"Don't ask me, Dick," pleaded Jeanne, falling on her knees beside him. +"Wait until you are well and then we can talk it over." + +"You dally," cried Dick, his eyes bright with fever. "I see how it is! +You fibbed to me, Jeanne. I know you did." + +"No, Dick, I did not," cried Jeanne, heartbroken at the thought that Dick +could believe such a thing of her. "Listen, and I will tell you all about +it. Snowball can tell you too, if you do not believe me. But you will be +quiet, Dick, won't you? You will be very, very quiet." + +"You are not taking a very good way to get your brother well," exclaimed +Madame, entering abruptly. "I will have to forbid you the room if you +excite him like this. Can't you let your tales of me wait until he is +strong enough to bear them?" + +"Are they true?" asked Dick, looking up at her with eager eyes. "They are +not, are they?" + +"Yes," cried Jeanne, indignantly. "They are true, Dick! As true as I live! +Why should I tell you a falsehood?" + +"Are they?" and Dick's eyes lingered on his aunt's questioningly. + +"Dear boy," said Madame, caressing him, "believe what the little one tells +you. Is she not your sister? Poor Cherie would rather die than to say +aught against her. Think what you like." + +"I knew it," and Dick breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew that you could +not be so wicked and cruel." + +"Dick, Dick," cried his sister passionately. "You must believe me. It is +true. All that I tell you and more. Oh, Dick, turn away from that wicked +woman! Don't let her touch you! I will take care of you." + +"I will leave you, Dick, my soldier boy," said the lady holding him close +to her. "Your sister can take care of you, as she says. There! I will go." + +"No; I want you, Cherie," and the boy held her as tightly as his poor weak +hands would allow. "I don't want Jeanne, I want you." Exhausted by the +excitement he sank back unconscious on his pillow. + +Madame's eyes flashed triumphantly at the girl. + +"Go," she said in her honey sweet accents which to the sensitive ear of +the girl were full of bitterness. "Go, and let me repair the mischief you +have done. Blame yourself if this proves too much for him. His death will +be upon your shoulders." + +With white face Jeanne crept from the room, and lay without the door while +her aunt summoned aid. After a time the lady joined her. + +"Unhappy girl," she said, "you have almost killed your brother. It is due +to my skill alone that he lives. I forbid you to enter his room again +until he is beyond danger. If you try to see him I cannot answer for the +consequences. Or perhaps you would rather he would die than to live and +to care for me more than for you. Did you see how he turned from you to +me? How did you like that?" + +"Aunt Clarisse," answered Jeanne, every word of the woman going to her +heart like the stab of a knife, "save him, and I will ask nothing more. He +may love you best----" her voice faltered. "Only save him." + +"I am going to," said Madame with emphasis. "Do you want to know why, +my dear? Because I took a fancy to Monsieur Dick when you used to talk +so about him. I adore a soldier! Had you been a boy I might have loved +you. When the Orderly told us that you were here with your brother I +came down because I wanted to see him for myself. I saw him, petite. +He is the picture of what my own boy would have been had he lived. I +would not have come on your account, you little mudsill! You might have +been sent to Libby prison for all I cared, but I wanted Dick. I want him +for myself. He cares for me now. By the time he is well he will adore me. +Nay; he will be so fond of me that he will give up father, mother and even +that beloved Union of which you prate so much because I wish it. You +shall see!" + +"You will do this? Aunt Clarisse, you cannot. Dick believes in you now, +but he will never love you better than he does mother. And he never will, +no matter how much he likes you, give up his country." + +"We shall see," and the lady laughed unpleasantly. "You would have said +yesterday that he loved you better, wouldn't you? Yet see! to-day he +prefers me. He shall yet wear the gray of my own South." + +Shaking her finger at the girl with pretended playfulness she reentered +Dick's room leaving Jeanne full of misery. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +JEANNE MEETS FRIENDS + + +And so, fearful of exciting her brother, Jeanne refrained from visiting +his chamber. But her heart was heavy and she grew pale and thin. + +"Dick will not yield," she said to herself over and over again. "He has +fought for his country, and no man who has laid down his life upon his +country's altar could ever betray her. Why do I fear? He is father's +son." But she stopped short as a sudden thought struck her. "Father's +son," she whispered, "yet Uncle Ben is father's brother. I will not +think! I will wait until he is better, and then get him to go away." + +Thus trying to comfort herself she wandered through the house or stood +disconsolately in the grounds watching the soldiers as they worked +daily at the fortifications. December passed, and great were the public +rejoicings over Sherman's defeat in his attack on the city. + +"Vicksburg can never be taken," said Madame Vance with insolent triumph. +"And so long as Vicksburg stands, stands the Confederacy." + +"Yes; it is such folly for them to waste ammunition in trying to take +a city like this," spoke Mrs. La Chaise, Madame's relative. "Why its +defenses and protection are stronger than any city they have in the United +States." + +"I thought that Vicksburg was in the United States," said Jeanne quickly. + +"It is in the Confederacy," responded Madame Vance sharply. "When will you +learn, Jeanne, that the United States is a separate and distinct country." + +"Never," replied the girl. "I think you will be convinced of your mistake +some time." + +"When Vicksburg falls perhaps we may," interposed Mrs. La Chaise. "I will +be willing to acknowledge it then, won't you, Clarisse?" + +"Yes; will you come in and see my boy this morning, Adele? He is getting +on finely." + +"I will come too," said Jeanne determinedly. "I think Dick is strong +enough to see me if he can see the rest of the family." + +"I forbid it," said Madame sternly. "He doesn't care to see you. The sight +would be very unpleasant to him." + +"The sight of me? His sister!" exclaimed the girl in amaze. "I do not +believe it, Aunt Clarisse." + +"You shall not go. He does not need you." + +"I will go. I have stayed out quite long enough," and Jeanne rose from her +seat and started for Dick's bedroom. But Madame was by her side instantly. + +"If you do not do as I tell you, I will lock you up again," she said +threateningly. "I think you had a taste of that once." + +"You dare not," retorted Jeanne. "These people would not let you." + +"Indeed, had I been in your aunt's place I would have done so long ago," +declared Mrs. La Chaise who had always disliked the girl. Jeanne looked +appealingly at her uncle but that gentleman only turned to Mr. La Chaise +with some remark on the war. They were all against her, and as she gazed +into their faces she realized how helpless she was. + +"But I want to see my brother," she cried bursting into tears. + +"You shall see him when I am ready for you to if you will be a good girl +and obey me," said Madame Vance. "I do not choose that you shall to-day. +Now run out in the yard or take a walk. It will do you good. Come, Adele, +we will go to Dick." + +With bursting heart Jeanne saw the two disappear into Dick's chamber. She +sat looking longingly at the door for some time and then left the house +and started for a walk, unable to sit still longer. + +One of the hills of Vicksburg was called the Sky Parlor because of the +extensive view that it commanded and also because it was a favorite resort +of ladies in pleasant weather. Now, although the wind was cold and chill, +Jeanne bent her steps toward it in the effort to find some distraction +for her mind. + +So intent was she on her own thoughts that she gazed on the surroundings +with eyes that saw neither the hills nor the great bend of the river, nor +indeed the two persons who were at a little distance from her. A sigh +escaped her lips as she turned at length to retrace her steps. In so doing +she was brought face to face with a man and a girl who were in the act +of coming toward her. An exclamation of surprise burst from the girl's +lips. + +"Jeanne!" + +"Bob," cried Jeanne gladly and then stopped short as the remembrance came +to her that Colonel Peyton had forbidden Bob to have any communication +with her. Seemingly no such recollection occurred to Bob or, if it did +she ignored it, for she flung herself upon Jeanne rapturously. + +"You dear thing!" she cried kissing her. "How in the world did you get +here? We did not know what had become of you, but father said you had left +of your own accord. Did you?" + +"Yes; I did, Bob. I went with Dick." Tears came to her eyes at thought of +him. "He had waited to take me after his escape." + +"Is he with you?" asked Bob, quickly. + +"Oh, Bob," she cried, breaking down completely. "I am in so much trouble." + +"Are you?" Bob hugged her close. "Tell me all about it, Jeanne." + +Jeanne looked up and started her story, but hesitated as she saw Bob's +companion. + +"Don't mind him," said Bob, observing her look. "He's a real nice old man +who boards at Aunt Sally's. We are great friends." + +"If I am not mistaken, this is a young lady with whom I am well +acquainted," said the old gentleman, looking at Jeanne quizzically. +"Aren't you the little girl who likes puns?" + +"Mr. Huntsworth," cried Jeanne, in astonishment, "how did you come here?" + +"After I left you I went to Corinth on some business," said Mr. +Huntsworth. "To wind it up satisfactorily I was obliged to come on to +Vicksburg. The good people here got it into their heads that I was in +some sort of secret work and so detained me. As they have no proof I +am permitted to have my freedom which is liberty only in a restricted +sense as I am not permitted to leave the city. However, I am quite +comfortable. I am boarding with this young lady's aunt, who is a very +fine woman. Very fine, indeed! And we have some rare times together, eh, +Bob." + +"Indeed we do," cried Bob, gaily. "And dad is stationed here, Jeanne, so +that while I am at Aunt Sally's I see him almost every day." + +"How do you live away from your regiment, Bob?" + +"It was hard at first, but now I don't mind it so much. And then I go to +see them sometimes. Aunt Sally was horrified when she found I had been +so long with the soldiers. See, I don't wear my uniform any more. But +I expect that if the war lasts much longer I'll have to go back to it. +Goods are not being imported very fast into the Confederacy." + +"You said you were in trouble, my little friend," said Mr. Huntsworth, +who had been taking note of Jeanne's pale face and distressed air. "Tell +us about it. We may be able to help you." + +"Will your father care if I talk to you, Bob?" asked Jeanne, longing to +confide in these friends and yet hesitating to do so. + +"Dad was sorry after you left that he had been so unkind to you," said +Bob. "Especially when he found how good you had been to send Frank to +your home. He regretted his sternness. So we can be friends all right. Now +tell us all about it." + +"I will," and Jeanne told all that had occurred since she left the +regiment and briefly sketched for Mr. Huntsworth's benefit the happenings +in New Orleans. + +"My dear," said the old gentleman, gravely, when she had finished, "you +are indeed in trouble. I must think it over and see if I cannot help you." + +"I think your aunt is just about the meanest person I ever heard of," +declared Bob. "I am sorry that she is a Southerner. I didn't know that we +had any one among us that could be like that." + +"She is partly of foreign blood, Bob." + +"To be sure! That explains everything," said Bob. "But what makes your +uncle let her act so?" + +"I don't know," said Jeanne, sadly, "he seems to have no will but hers. +Sometimes I think that he is afraid of her, and yet why should a great big +man be afraid of a slender woman?" + +"I have known of such cases," observed Mr. Huntsworth. "There may be more +in that than you dream, my dear. We must think over the matter and see +what can be done. And remember, child, that you have friends. That you +are no longer alone but that we will help you some way." + +"Oh," said Jeanne, brokenly, "it is so good of you. I felt so forlorn. I +thought that I was forsaken by every one. But I won't feel so any more. +You are so good----" She burst into a flood of tears. + +"There! there!" Bob comforted her with endearments while Mr. Huntsworth +blew his nose vigorously. "I know just how you feel, Jeanne. It nearly +killed me when Frank went over to the Union instead of staying with his +own people. I don't blame you for wanting to keep your brother on your +side." + +"You are generous, Bob. I did not sympathize with you before, but I do +now. I don't believe that Dick will go, but I am so afraid of what Aunt +Clarisse may do to him if he doesn't. No! Dick won't go. But I must +return. They will wonder what has become of me." + +"It is high time all of us were leaving," remarked Mr. Huntsworth. "This +is rather a breezy place for a conversation." + +Still conversing the three slowly descended the elevation, and then +bidding them good-bye Jeanne returned to the La Chaise residence feeling +more hopeful now that she knew that Bob and Mr. Huntsworth were in the +city. As she entered the grounds Snowball dodged from behind one of the +trees. + +"Lill' missy," she said, "go down behind de smokehouse de fust chance yer +git. I'se got sumpin' ter tell yer." + +"All right, Snowball. I will go now," replied Jeanne rather startled. + +"Not now, missy. Deys done seen yer kum in. Go on ter yer room and then +slip down arter yer stays dere awhile." + +Jeanne followed the girl's advice, and went on to the house. Madame +Vance looked up as she entered. She gave a quick glance at the girl, +and something in the latter's face caught her attention. + +"You look brighter," she commented. "Whom did you see?" + +"Many people, Madame," replied Jeanne somewhat shortly. + +"It seems to have helped you then. Did anything happen?" + +"Nothing," returned the girl drearily, her old look of hopelessness +returning for she feared that Madame suspected something. "What could +happen?" + +"Don't give me any impudence, Jeanne. I am not in the mood for it. Go at +once to your room," commanded her aunt and Jeanne gladly obeyed. + +As soon as possible she crept softly downstairs and succeeded in getting +out of the house unobserved by either Madame or Mrs. La Chaise and ran +eagerly to the smokehouse. + +Snowball was waiting for her. + +"Missy," she said as soon as the girl reached her side, "hab yer seen yer +brudder lately?" + +"No, Snowball. They won't let me," said Jeanne sadly. + +"Den yer had bettah see him as soon as yer can, fer dere's a powerful lot +of meanness gwine on." + +"What do you mean?" cried Jeanne apprehensively. + +"Ole missus am a tryin' ter make him leab Massa Linkum's ahmy. I heerd +Jeff tell Feliciane dat she was 'suadin' him awful ha'd. Den too I heare +ole missus tell him myself dis mohnin' when dey sent me fer more wood and +didn't notice pertic'lar dat I had kum back, ole missus say ter him when +he done axed fer you, 'I done know what de mattah wid Jeanne,' she say. +'She done seem ter kyar ter see yer. I axed her ter kum dis mohnin', an' +she say, 'no, I'm gwine fer a walk.' Den yer brudder say bery weak like, +'I can't understan' it. I tought she lubed me.'" + +"Did he say that?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, Snowball, what can I do? I must see +him. Won't you help me?" + +"Yes, missy, I will. Eben ef dey kills me fer it," declared the girl +fervently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A PRISONER OF WAR + + +"But what can we do, Snowball?" asked Jeanne her voice trembling with +emotion. "How can I see him?" + +"De missus takes a nap ebery day," said the darky. "An' sumtimes she calls +me ter set in de room s'posin' Massa Dick want anything. Sumtimes she +tells Feliciane ter do it. We'll jest wait tell she tells me ter do it, +an' den I'll let yer in. We'll hab ter watch sha'p elsen she'll ketch us." + +"We will," said Jeanne. "I would not care for myself, but I would not like +to get you into trouble." + +"Nebber you mind me, lill' missy. You'se been moughty good ter me, an' +I'll stan' anything ter help yer see yer brudder." + +"Thank you, Snowball," and Jeanne's eyes filled with tears at this +evidence of affection. "When I can I am going to help you to get back +to your mother. I will never forget what you are doing for me." + +"Dat's all right, missy. Jest you wait tell I does sumthin' an' den talk. +Time nuff den! Now I mus' run back. Done want missus ter know dat I hab +been talkin' ter yer." + +"I'll go a different way, and she won't suspect us," said Jeanne and the +two separated. + +Two days, full of anxiety to Jeanne, passed before Snowball was called to +attend Dick. Waiting only until she heard the door of Madame's chamber +click, the darky sped to Jeanne's room and called her. + +"Nuffin' couldn't a happened bettah," she said. "Missus Adele, she's gone +ter town; an' tuk Feliciane with huh. Jeff's gwine huntin' wid marster +an' Mistah La Chaise. I ain't afeerd ob de res' ob de niggas. Kum now, +missy, an' yer'll hab a right smaht while wid yer brudder." + +Jeanne started up eagerly and ran down the stairs to Dick's chamber. Her +brother was lying fully dressed on a couch with his back toward her. He +did not turn at her entrance and before she had time to address him, +Snowball darted through the door. + +"Foh de land sake, missy, git outen heah quick," she whispered. "Ole +missus am a kumin' back." + +Her terror communicated itself to Jeanne and the girl stopped stock still +in the middle of the floor. The click, click of Madame's shoes could be +heard distinctly in the hall. To go out would be to meet her, and for +the nonce the spirit of the girl quailed. Glancing quickly about her the +heavily curtained window caught her eye and she sprang toward it. It was +but the work of a moment to ensconce herself behind its voluminous folds. +Scarcely had she done so when Madame entered. + +"I thought I heard some one," she said suspiciously. "Have you been +attending to Master Dick, Snowball?" + +"Does yer want anyting now, Massa Dick?" asked Snowball going to the lad's +side, gladly ignoring the lady's first remark. + +"Give me a drink, please," said Dick weakly. + +"I will give it to him myself," said Madame. "You may leave the room, +Snowball. Master Dick and I want to have a little talk all by ourselves." + +"Yes'm," acquiesced Snowball, but she lingered loth to leave Jeanne. + +"At once," commanded Madame sharply. "Why do you loiter when I tell you +to go?" + +"Yes'm; I'm a-gwine now," and the girl left the room reluctantly. + +"You feel much better, do you not, my boy?" and the lady stroked the lad's +hair gently. + +"Yes, Cherie." + +"So well that we can have our little talk again? We will not be +interrupted to-day as we were yesterday." + +"If you wish," and it seemed to Jeanne that Dick spoke with great +weariness. "But of what use is it? You have your views and I have +mine. Why not let the subject drop when we cannot agree?" + +"Because the old adage has it, 'That constant dropping will wear away +the hardest stone.' By keeping continually at you I shall finally succeed +in overcoming your scruples, and get your signature to the oath of +allegiance to the Confederacy." + +"Never!" exclaimed Dick with so much resolution that his sister's heart +swelled with thankfulness and pride. "Though you were to talk to me +forever you could not change my principles." + +"Listen to me, Dick." Madame spoke in her sweetest tones. "You are but +a boy. You cannot know which side is right in this war when great men have +differed upon the matter. I have heard you say that you honored Robert +E. Lee. That he was a noble man, a great general, and one of the finest +gentlemen that you ever met. Think you that such a man would embrace our +cause if he did not believe himself right?" + +"I do not," answered Dick at once. "There are many men on the side of the +South who believe themselves to be in the right. But they are none the +less mistaken for all that." + +"And you set up your feeble judgment against them?" cried Madame, a trace +of anger in her voice. "It is presumption." + +Dick did not reply. Presently Madame spoke again, and Jeanne noted that +her tones were once more caressingly soft. + +"Dick, I have spoken to you of my own son, have I not?" + +"Yes, Cherie." + +"He was so much like you. When I used to hear Jeanne talk of you I knew +that you were what my boy would have been. When I saw you my heart yearned +over you, for you were the image of him. Had he lived he would have +fought to defend our South from the rank invaders." + +"I do not doubt it," spoke the boy gently. + +"Think how desolate I am," went on the lady quick to note the lad's +sympathy for her. "I have no one, Dick. Be my boy, I will be so proud of +you. You would be our heir, and have all the property. I have influence +too, and it should be used to advance you quickly to a high rank. You +should be a general, my boy. The handsomest and youngest in the service. +Think what I can give you. And all just to sign one little paper! Why do +you hesitate? Why throw away such advantages for the sake of a mere +notion? Come, sign it." + +Dick was silent so long that Jeanne became alarmed and she pushed back +the curtain and looked at the pair anxiously. Madame Vance was holding a +paper before the boy pleadingly, while Dick was regarding it with a look +of indifference. + +"You will, my beautiful boy. You will, I know. You cannot refuse a +mother's prayer. Oh, I know that you will not refuse me." + +"But I do," said Dick who showed signs that the interview was taxing his +strength to the utmost. "I will die before I sign that paper." + +"You refuse?" cried Madame, losing control of herself. "Then hear me, +Richard Vance. You shall not thwart me in my purpose. You shall sign that +paper. I am stronger than you, and I say that you shall do it." + +She seized the lad's hand and tried to force a pen into it. Dick struggled +feebly. With a bound Jeanne was by his side, all her fear of the woman +gone in the menace to her brother. + +"What are you doing here, Jeanne Vance?" cried Madame starting back at +sight of the girl. "How came you here?" + +"I wanted to see my brother," answered Jeanne, throwing her arms about +him protectingly. "Have you no heart, no feeling, that you would take +advantage of his weakness?" + +"I am not so weak that she could make me sign that paper," cried Dick, +his pale face and shaking hands belying his assertion. + +"We shall see," cried Madame threateningly. "He shall sign it before you, +my little Yankee." + +Jeanne watched her opportunity as her aunt tried to push her aside, and +snatched the paper from her hand. + +"There!" she cried as she tore it into shreds. "There, Aunt Clarisse! He +cannot sign it now." + +"How dare you?" cried Madame, stamping her foot. "I will have you whipped." + +But as she started to call the servants a sharp peal of the door bell +rang through the house. Instantly a most remarkable transformation took +place in the lady. Her rage disappeared as if by magic, and, as one of +the darkies opened the door to announce. "Colonel Peyton," she presented +a serene and smiling countenance to the gentleman. + +"Colonel Peyton," she exclaimed, sweeping forward gracefully, "this is +indeed an honor. To what good fortune am I indebted for such a favor?" + +"The exigencies of war, Madame," answered the Colonel, bowing over her +hand with courtly grace. "I am accompanied by some of my men. May I ask +that they be permitted to enter?" + +"Certainly," assented Madame sweetly, but there was a trace of uneasiness +in her manner. + +Into the room filed a squad of soldiers and with them, Jeanne could +scarcely repress a cry of joy at sight of him, came Mr. Huntsworth. + +"Madame," said Colonel Peyton, pulling a paper from his pocket. +"General Pemberton has sent a written order for a young man--a Federal +prisoner--who was put in your charge to be taken care of until he +should have recovered from his wound. As some time has elapsed he is +convinced that he has sufficiently recovered to be turned over to us. +I have come to take him and also the young girl who accompanied him. They +are prisoners of war, you understand." + +Madame Vance bowed but her eyes glittered balefully. + +"The girl is here, take her," she said. "But the boy--ah, mon Colonel, +you must not take him yet. He is not able to go. Besides, let me but have +him a short time longer and who knows but that a full fledged Confederate +may be the result? He is not able to go. Leave him with me, Colonel, I +beseech you. I will see the General myself." + +"No; take him," interposed Jeanne who feared that the Colonel might +succumb to the lady's blandishments. "She wants to force him to her wish, +and you don't want such soldiers, Colonel Peyton." + +"No," said the Colonel sternly. "We want no recruits made in such a +manner, Madame Vance. Men, take your prisoner." + +"Minx," shrieked Madame, flying at Jeanne in a passion. "Is it thus you +repay my kindness? Oh, I could kill you!" + +"She is our prisoner," said Colonel Peyton stepping before her. "You must +not touch the girl, Madame." + +"I will report this indignity," cried Madame. "I will see General +Pemberton. I do not lack influence, sir. You shall repent this." + +"As you like, Madame." The Colonel bowed gravely and, like the brave +soldier that he was, remained with the lady while the men carried Dick +out, followed by Jeanne and Mr. Huntsworth who had his arm around the +girl protectingly. + +"Oh," cried the girl as they proceeded down the hill away from the place. +"I am so glad that you came when you did. I fear that I could not have +held out much longer." + +"Tell us what happened," suggested Mr. Huntsworth, and Jeanne did so. + +"I think I never saw such a tiger cat," remarked the old gentleman when +she had finished. "There was a time there when I thought that she was +going to tear you to pieces. I fear that you are not through with her, +my little friend." + +"I will see General Pemberton," declared Colonel Peyton, "and prepare him +for Madame's onslaught. Meantime, I have his permission for you and your +brother to stay at sister Sally's until your brother fully recovers. But +he is not at liberty, Jeanne, because he is a prisoner, you know." + +"Yes, I know," said Jeanne, "and I will not say a word against it. Better +a prisoner of the Confederates than to be in the hands of such a woman. +There will at least be some chance to exchange him. You don't dislike +me any more, do you, Colonel Peyton? You won't care if Bob and I are +friends, will you?" + +"No; you poor child! I have been sorry that I was so unkind to you. After +all I was glad that you girls saved Frank. It would have broken my heart +had he been shot. Ah!----" + +There was a rushing, whizzing sound and a huge mortar shell passed over +them, and, burying itself in the side of the hill beyond, exploded with a +great report. + +"What is it?" cried Jeanne affrightedly clinging to Mr. Huntsworth. + +"The Federals have begun to shell the city," said the Colonel calmly. +"Their fleet has been gathering for several days. We have been expecting +it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE SIEGE BEGINS + + +"Then we are safe, safe," cried Jeanne, forgetful of the presence of the +soldiers. "Oh, Mr. Huntsworth, the Federals will soon have the city!" + +"I wouldn't be too sure of that, my little lady," remarked Colonel Peyton +dryly. "Vicksburg is impregnable, and I fear that it will be a waste of +ammunition on the part of the Federals." + +"I did not mean to be impolite, Colonel," said the girl contritely. "It +wasn't very nice of me to make such a remark. I should be sorry for you +if our men did take the city." + +"You are a good little girl," said Colonel Peyton warmly. "I like a +generous hearted foe." + +"You must be careful not to express your feelings too openly," advised +Mr. Huntsworth in a low tone. "These people are rebels but they are going +to be our hosts and the Colonel has certainly interested himself in your +behalf." + +"He has," said Jeanne gratefully, "and I will be careful not to offend +them." + +Bob, rather pale and agitated on account of the shells, met them at the +door. + +"Dad, what will we do if they shell the city?" she cried before greeting +Jeanne. + +"I reckon we can't do anything," drawled the Colonel. "I thought you were +a soldier, Bob? Soldiers don't mind a few shells." + +"I suppose not," and Bob strove to regain her composure. "So you got +Jeanne and her brother? Come in and tell me what else that woman has +done. Here is Aunt Sally! Aunty, this is Jeanne and her brother, Dick +Vance. They're Yankees but they are real nice anyway." + +"I am glad to see you, my dear," said the lady, kissing Jeanne. "Any +friend of Bob's is welcome be she Yankee or Confederate. And this is your +brother? How pale he is! We must get him right to bed." + +She bustled about Dick in a motherly fashion, her sympathies fully +enlisted on his behalf by his illness. Dick was in truth much exhausted by +his journey and sank into slumber as soon as his head touched the pillow. +Jeanne sat by him and told Bob and her aunt how Madame had tried to +make him sign the paper. + +"Rest and quiet are what he needs," observed Mr. Huntsworth. "He will +come out of this all right, I think, now that he is removed from your +aunt's ministrations. What a creature she is! She reminds me of the middle +ages. Vindictive, passionate and cruel beyond measure as were the women +of those times!" + +The slow shelling of Vicksburg went on. The people gradually became +indifferent and resumed their daily avocations. General Pemberton issued +an order for all non-combatants to leave the city, but Bob and her aunt +refused to pay any heed to it. + +"Where could we go?" asked Bob when her father tried to combat her +decision to stay. "You say the country is overrun with soldiers, and +where is there a place safer than Vicksburg? The Yankees can never take +it!" + +"No; they cannot," returned the Colonel. "I don't know but that you +are right, Bob. I will have a cave dug in the hill back of the house +to-morrow, and you can retire to it when the shelling becomes too bad." + +And so it was arranged. Men began work the next day and soon dug a cave +in the hillside back of them. Cave residence had become quite the thing +since the shelling of the city had begun, and the hillsides were so +honey-combed with excavations that the streets looked like avenues in a +cemetery. + +Bob and Jeanne settled themselves into a happy and quiet existence. They +sewed in the morning and sometimes took excursions to Sky Parlor Hill +to view the Federal fleet that lay on the river, and to look through a +glass at the Federal encampment near the head of the abandoned canal. +Rumors were rife in the city of the advance of the Federal troops. One +night heavy cannonading was heard for an hour or two, ceasing and then +commencing again early in the morning. All day the noise continued. That +night the sky in the South was crimsoned by the light of a large fire. + +The lurid glare fell in red and amber light upon the houses, lighting up +the white magnolias, paling the pink crape myrtles, and bringing out in +bright distinctness the railing of the terraces where drooped in fragrant +wreaths the clustering passion vine. The next day the news came that +the little village of Warrenton had been burned by shells thrown from +the boats. Then followed the tidings that a battle was going on between +the Federal troops and General Pemberton's forces at Black River. And so +the days passed full of rumors and excitement. + +The seventeenth of May dawned, and Vicksburg was thrilled to the centre by +the news of a battle and the tidings that the Confederates were beaten. +Soon the streets were filled with bands of tired, worn-looking soldiers. +Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, footsore and bloody the men limped along +unarmed but followed by siege guns, ambulances, gun carriages and wagons +in aimless confusion. At twilight the bands began to play "Dixie," +"The Bonnie Blue Flag," and other martial airs on the court-house hill +to rally the scattered army. + +"Mr. Huntsworth," said Jeanne as they were for a few moments out of +ear-shot of the lamenting Bob. "I heard a man say that the Yankees would +be here before long. Do you think it can be true?" + +"I don't know, child. Let us hope so," was the answer. + +But the day passed and no Yankees made their appearance and the citizens +settled once more into a semblance of quiet. But from that time the +regular siege of Vicksburg began. Utterly cut off from the world and +surrounded by a circle of fire, the fiery shower of shells went on day +and night. Regular occupations were discontinued, and people did nothing +but eat what they could get, sleep when they could and dodge the shells. + +For some time Aunt Sally, Bob, Dick, Jeanne and Mr. Huntsworth, and the +servants had been living in the commodious cave prepared for them. The +girls no longer sewed or walked about. They were content if they could +keep out of range of the shells. Once every day some one of them ran the +gauntlet of shells to buy the meat and milk. Mule meat was the staple +article of diet, but this Bob and Jeanne utterly refused to touch and +confined themselves to rice and milk. + +"It is not at all bad," declared Mr. Huntsworth as he sat at the door of +the cave one evening a piece of the meat in his hand. "Come here, girls, +and let me show you the difference in the shells. There goes a Parrott. +That's a mortar shell that curls so beautifully down yon hillside. +This"--as he dodged back into the cave to escape one--"is a rifle shell." + +"I don't see what difference it makes," said Bob retreating to the back +of the cave, "what kind of a shell it is if it kills you. Do you, Jeanne?" + +"I think not," answered Jeanne tremblingly. "What a fearful thing war is! +Oh!" + +A shell fell just without the mouth of the cavern like a flame of fire, +making the earth tremble, and with a low, singing sound the fragments sped +on in their work of death. + +"We seem to be within range this evening," said Mr. Huntsworth as he came +to where the trembling girls crouched. + +Shell after shell followed each other in quick succession, and our little +party stood without speaking, awaiting the sudden death that seemed almost +certain. Jeanne's heart stood still as she heard the reports from the +guns and the rushing fearful sound as the shells came toward them. As +the shells neared the cave the noise became more deafening; the air was +full of the rushing sound; pains darted through her temples; her ears +were full of the confusing noise; and, as one would explode, the report +flashed through her head like an electric shock, leaving her in a state +of terror, painful to be imagined. + +The rest of the occupants of the cavern were not much better off. After +this paroxysm of fear passed they strove for composure only to be again +overcome as the fusillade was repeated. + +Morning found them more dead than alive, with blanched faces and trembling +lips, but as the time passed and they were still preserved, although the +shells came as fast as ever, they took courage and at last regained a +measure of calmness. + +There was not much mental rest for the people of Vicksburg, and added +to Jeanne's apprehensions for their safety was the anxiety over Dick. The +lad had grown as strong as was possible considering the scarcity of +nourishing food and, as the shelling grew worse, a sort of restlessness +seized upon him and he would stand without the entrance of the cave +careless of the shells falling about him, watching their progress intently. + +"I am afraid that he will be killed," said Jeanne tearfully to Bob. "Why +does he do it, Bob?" + +"Mr. Huntsworth says that it is because he is a soldier," said Bob. + +"I wish I could take him home. I must as soon as possible," said Jeanne. + +Bob looked at her wonderingly. It was a surprise to her how Jeanne still +kept the hope of getting home, and ignored the fact that she and Dick were +prisoners. Opening her lips she was about to reply when the unmistakable +whirring of a shell told her that the battery which they feared the +most had turned their guns upon their hill. Running to the entrance she +called Dick and the servants in. They had just obeyed her summons when a +Parrott shell came whirring in at the entrance and fell in the centre +of the cave before them all, lying there smoking. + +Terrified they fastened their eyes upon it. Their fate seemed certain. +For one moment they remained thus, and then Dick rushed forward, seized +the shell and threw it into the street, regaining the cave just as the +shell exploded. + +"Dick," cried Jeanne running to him, "oh, how brave you are! But what if +you had been killed!" + +"It's time I was throwing them," said Dick emphatically. "I ought to have +been at the other end of them long ago." + +"Oh, but what if you had been killed," sobbed Jeanne. "What would mother +say?" + +"That I had but done my duty," answered the lad. + +"He is right," said Mr. Huntsworth. "Besides had he not been so brave not +only he but all the rest of us would have been killed also. Let us give +thanks for our wonderful escape." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MADAME FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Since leaving the La Chaises' Jeanne had seen nothing of her uncle and +aunt, so she supposed that they had withdrawn from the city when General +Pemberton had issued the order for the non-combatants to leave. One +afternoon amid the rush and explosion of the shells, cries and screams +arose--the screams of women amid the shrieks of the falling shells. Their +curiosity getting the better of their timidity, Jeanne and Bob resolved to +find out what was the matter. + +"Then I will go too," said Dick, "if you are resolved upon going, but I +think it is foolhardy." + +"Let's go," cried Bob. "I am so tired of this damp, ill-smelling, earthy +home that I almost think I would welcome death as a change. Let's go." + +The three started forth, dodging the shells as they walked. Presently +they came to a cave in a side hill around which a number of people were +gathered. + +"What has happened?" asked Dick of a man. + +"It's the cave of the Vances and the La Chaises," was the answer. "Some +shells struck the ground above and it caved in burying them. We don't know +whether they are dead or alive." + +With an exclamation of horror Dick darted forward. + +"A spade," he cried. "A spade, or a pick, or a shovel! Anything that will +dig! Why do you stand here, men?" + +"We can't work with the shells flying around us," growled a man. + +"You are not any more likely to be hit while working than you are standing +still," cried the boy. "Get something quick!" + +Moved by his earnestness the men obtained picks, shovels, spades, and +anything that would move the dirt, and in spite of the flying shells +began to dig out the unfortunate persons. Pale as death Jeanne stood +by, clinging to Bob, unwilling to leave the spot until she could learn +their condition. Her resentment toward her uncle and aunt was overcome by +the great catastrophe that had overtaken them. + +Mr. Vance was found first. He was quite dead, as were also Mr. and Mrs. La +Chaise. Madame Vance was alive but had sustained mortal injuries so that +her death was but a question of a few moments. Her eyes lighted up when +they fell upon Dick. + +"My boy," she cried feebly, "you did like me, didn't you?" + +"Indeed I did, Cherie," and Dick took the poor crushed form into his arms. + +"I knew it," she whispered looking at him lovingly. "Forgive me, Dick, +that I used you so. I wanted you to think as I did." + +"It is all forgiven," said the boy tenderly. "Here is Jeanne, Cherie. Have +you no word for her?" + +"No," said Madame. "I never liked her. She was a child, but she took you +from me, my boy. + +"There is the property," said Madame suddenly to Jeanne. "That Yankee +General seized it in your name and declared that he should hold it for +you. It was to pay us for putting it in your name. It is yours, but I +want Dick to have it. Will you give it to him?" + +"Yes," answered Jeanne her tender heart very full of sympathy for her +aunt's sufferings. "I will do whatever you desire, dear Cherie." + +"Then give him the property and leave me with him. I don't want to die. It +is so cold. So cold! Where are you, Dick?" + +"Here," and Dick held her tenderly. + +"It is getting dark. My boy,--ah!" a gasp and all was over. + +That night as the moon shed its softening rays over the besieged city, +a little cortege consisting of Mr. Huntsworth, Dick, Aunt Sally, Jeanne, +Bob and a few servants came forth from the cave to perform the last sad +rites for all that remained of Mr. Vance, Madame and their relatives. + +Even in the softening light of the moon the blighting hand of warfare was +visible over the town. The closed and desolate houses, the gardens with +gates half open in which were the loveliest flowers and verdure! The +carelessness of appearance and evident haste of departure was visible +everywhere, the inhabitants feeling only anxiety for their personal safety +and the strength of their cave homes. + +The guns were still and peace for a time reigned over the troubled city. +The stars shone coldly down upon them, twinkling as brightly as though +no great strife was being waged beneath them. + +Jeanne's tears were falling fast as she walked back by Dick's side in the +cool fresh air of the morning. + +"Dick," she whispered, detaining him as the others entered the cave, "you +don't harbor any bitterness toward me, do you?" + +"Toward you, Jeanne? No;" and Dick folded her in a close embrace. "Why +did you think so?" + +"You have been so still, so quiet since Aunt Clarisse died that I feared +that you thought me to blame in some way." + +"No, no, sister. I have been thinking of Cherie, and of what a mixture +she was of tenderness and vindictiveness. I thought once that I should +never forgive her for turning me against you, and for trying to wean me +from my country." + +"But you do forgive her, don't you, Dick? She is dead now and can never +harm us any more." + +"Yes; I forgave her when she was lying there in my arms," said Dick. "But +I will never forget how good you have been, Jeanne. You stood by me as +no sister ever stood by a brother before. Why, had it not been for you I +might have been made to sign that paper." + +"I do not believe that you ever would," cried Jeanne. + +"And you saved me," and Dick kissed her tenderly. "How proud father and +mother will be of you, Jeanne." + +"Do you think that we shall ever see them again?" asked the girl +mournfully. + +"Yes, I do," said Dick positively. "I feel sure that the city will be +taken soon. It cannot hold out much longer. The soldiers have only pea +soup to live on now, and men can't fight on a diet like that. Oh, if I +were only in it!" and the boy looked wistfully over at the Federal fleet +as it lay on the broad bosom of the river. "My place is there, and yet +here I am mewed up like a girl! If ever I do get out I'll pepper the rebs +for this." + +"If the Federals take the city you will soon be free," comforted Jeanne. + +"Come, you must go to your rest," said Dick. "Isn't it fine the way we +are giving it to them, Jeanne? I just stand and watch those shells in +wonder. General Grant has worked for months for this and now the end is +near." + +"What makes you so positive, Dick?" + +"Yesterday there were some people who tried to pass out," answered the +boy. "They sent a flag of truce to the Federals asking permission to +enter their lines, and Grant sent back word to stay quietly in the city +as he would be in possession the Fourth of July. And he will, Jeanne. +Mark my words, if Grant says so, he will be here." + +"Oh, Dick," and Jeanne clapped her hands for joy. + +"Hush! not a word," said Dick. "I am sorry for these people. They are nice +folks, and Bob will never get over it. But of course we just had to win." + +"I wonder where Snowball is," mused Jeanne, as she retired. + +The morning brought the answer. As the shelling was resumed with more +frequency than ever for the delay, a number of negroes rushed into the +cave. + +"We 'longs ter yer now," said Snowball acting as spokesman for the others. +"Hyar's me, an' Jeff, an' Feliciane, lill' missy. Missus Adele's niggas +done gone ter her folks, an' we reckoned we 'longed ter yer an' Massa +Dick." + +"To me?" exclaimed Jeanne bewildered. "Why, what in the world will I do +with you all?" + +"Dunno. Yer'll hab ter take keer ob us, I reckon," and Snowball seated +herself on the floor in happy unconsciousness of the fact that taking care +of them implied any responsibility. "You won't whip us nohow. Will yer, +lill' missy?" + +"I certainly won't do that," answered Jeanne, "but it will be a problem +to feed you." + +And so it proved. Supplies were running very low in the city. Starvation +stared the inhabitants in the face. And yet, despite the privations and +the constant play of artillery and musketry through every minute of the +day, when Minie balls were accompanied by Parrott, Canister, solid shot +and shrapnel shells, and projectiles of all kinds, the soldiers became +almost indifferent to them, and frequently sang amid the pattering of the +balls. + +One evening as they sat in front of the cave a young officer passed them +singing words to the air of the "Mocking Bird." He seemed more concerned +about the melody than he did about the shots that were flying through the +air, and they watched him admiringly. + + "''Twas at the siege of Vicksburg, + Of Vicksburg, of Vicksburg, + 'Twas at the siege of Vicksburg, + When the Parrott shells were whistling thro' the air. + Listen to the Parrott shells, + Listen to the Parrott shells; + The Parrott shells are whistling thro' the air. + + "'Oh! well will we remember, + Remember, remember, + Tough mule meat June sans November, + And the Minie balls that whistled thro' the air + Listen to the Minie balls, + Listen to the Minie balls; + The Minie balls are singing in the air.'" + +"Jeanne," said Bob, "do you hear that? Do you think you have any Yankees +that are as brave as our people?" + +"As brave perhaps," replied Jeanne, "but no braver, Bob. I think no people +could be more courageous than your people have shown themselves through +this siege. I am proud of them as Americans, but I am sorry that their +courage is shown for such a cause." + +"Ah, we'll win yet," said Bob, her eyes shining, "and then we will show +you that we can be as generous as we are brave." + +And the days passed by. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE END OF THE SIEGE + + +It was the morning of the Fourth of July. Jeanne awoke from a deep +sleep. Generally about four o'clock the shrapnel shells were thrown +more furiously than at any other time of the day. She listened for a few +moments and then turned to Bob excitedly. + +"Bob, Bob," she cried, "wake up. The shells have stopped falling." + +"What!" cried Bob, awake instantly. "Are you sure? Why it is true! How +quiet it is! What can be the matter?" + +The girls began to dress hurriedly and then went outside the cave to learn +the cause of the cessation of the firing. People everywhere were running +out of their caves to find the reason. A painful calm prevailed, and so +long had the constant firing been kept up that the stillness was actually +oppressive. + +"What is the matter?" asked Bob as an old gray-headed soldier passed on +the hillside near the cave. Stopping and touching his cap the man replied: + +"It's all over. The white flag floats from our forts. Vicksburg has +surrendered!" + +With a cry that Jeanne never forgot Bob turned and passed into the cave. +A feeling of gladness and thankfulness welled up into Jeanne's heart, +succeeded by a great wave of pity for these people who had fought so long +and well. + +"Bob," she called, softly, following after the girl and putting her arms +about her, "Bob, don't grieve so." + +"Don't," cried Bob, throwing her off passionately. "You're glad! You know +you are." + +"Yes, Bob. Just as you would be if your side had won, but dear, dear Bob, +I am sorry for you and for your brave people who have fought so well." + +"If they cheer, I'll hate them," said Bob fiercely. "Oh, Jeanne, Jeanne, +my heart is broken!" + +Jeanne's own tears were falling fast, and Bob seeing that she did not +triumph over her let her head fall upon her shoulder and thus Colonel +Peyton found them. + +His face was very pale and he seemed bent and broken. He took his daughter +into his arms but he was more in need of comfort than capable of giving it. + +"It is the beginning of the end," he said brokenly. "When Vicksburg +falls it is but the beginning of the end of the Confederacy. Our cause +is doomed. We are fighting for a forlorn hope. Oh, my country, my country!" + +He bowed his head upon his daughter's and the great tears fell fast. + +Jeanne stole from the cave and met Dick coming for her. + +"See!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Those are Federal soldiers, Jeanne. We +are in the United States once more. Look at the Court House Hill! What do +you see?" + +"The Stars and Stripes," cried Jeanne, tears of gladness rolling down her +cheeks. "Oh, Dick, how good it is to see our own flag once more!" + +"Isn't it? I could shout and sing for joy if it were not for these poor +fellows who have fought and starved so long. It is a hard thing to be on +the losing side." + +"True, for you, my boy," said Colonel Peyton joining them with Bob on his +arm. "We are fortunate in having so chivalrous a foe. There have been but +few cheers and no exultation over our poor unsuccessful fellows. Not a +jeer, nor a taunt from a Federal soldier." + +"And the river flows on as calmly as ever, and the sun still shines, yet +Vicksburg has fallen," said Bob bitterly. + +"Bear up, daughter. A soldier must learn to accept defeat as heroically as +victory," said her father. "Look, what a grand sight it is to see those +transports round the bend. See how serenely they draw up in the very teeth +of those grim batteries that were dealing death but yesterday. Now they +are silent, and their Conqueror comes boldly to their very sides." + +"What are all those people running down there for?" asked Bob. "Surely +they are not welcoming their victors!" + +"Bread, daughter. The Federal transports are full of supplies which are +brought for the starving people. It is a magnanimous foe!" + +"Transports," cried Jeanne eagerly. "I wonder--where is Snowball?'" + +"Hyar, missy," cried the girl, running forward. "Oh, missy, Massa Linkum's +men done say we all's free. Dat Fader Abe done set us niggas free way +long las' Jan'wry." + +"It may be so," cried Jeanne delightedly. "I don't know, but come and let +us see if the transport that your mother is on is down there." + +With a howl of delight Snowball went scampering down the hill toward +the boats, Jeanne following after her. The Gem City lay at anchor close +to the shore. Captain Leathers was dealing out supplies to the starving +people that surrounded the boat. + +"Captain Leathers," cried Jeanne breathlessly as they reached his side. + +"Why, bless my heart, if it isn't my little friend," cried the Captain +in surprise. "What are you doing here? Yes; Tenny's right there on deck." + +"I'll tell you all about it just as soon as I see Tenny," said Jeanne +smiling at him brightly. "Come, Snowball." + +She ran quickly to where old Tenny stood. "Tenny," she cried, "look here!" + +The old woman turned and catching sight of Snowball gave a shriek of joy. + +"It's my babby," she screamed. "Kum hyar ter yer mammy, yer bressed chile! +Kum dis bery minnit!" + +Laughing and crying she caught the girl to her capacious bosom. + +"It's the lill' missy dat bringed me," cried Snowball. "Oh, mammy, dey +says we's free!" + +"'Course we is, honey chile. Whar you been dat you didn't know dat? Massa +Linkum done say dat long ago. Whar you been?" + +"Hyar in Vicksburg. Whar you bin, mammy?" + +"Eberywhar, chile. Ef I hadn't er cooked fer de sojers dey couldn't a tuk +de city. Cap'n Leathers say so. But hyar we is. Not mindin' our manners +an' a thankin' de lill' missy fer brungin' yer ter me." + +But with the first word of thanks Jeanne darted away. She stopped for a +moment to talk to the Captain and explain her presence in the city, and +then went back to the cave where Dick awaited her. + +"Come," said the boy. "General Grant is expected in the city soon. The +Confederates are coming from the camp to be registered and paroled." + +"When can we go home, Dick?" asked the girl as they passed into the +streets again. + +"Any time now, Jeanne. I want to see the General about sending a message +to father. How quiet it seems after the bombardment! Restful, isn't it?" + +"It's heavenly," sighed Jeanne contentedly. "I am so happy, Dick, and the +silence enfolds me like a garment. To think that I will really see father +and mother once more! It has been a year lacking a few days since I saw +them. How little I thought that so much would happen before I should see +them again. How anxious they must be! But now! a few more days and I shall +be with them." + +"There comes General Grant," said Dick suddenly. + +A glittering cavalcade of Federals and rebel officers at full gallop came +down the Jackson road from the camp without. In the midst of the throng +there appeared a man, small in stature, heavily set, a broad face covered +with sandy beard, habited in a plain blue uniform of flannel with two +stars of a major-general upon his shoulders. His face was impassive but +there was the faintest gleam of satisfaction in his cold gray eyes. + + "'Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, + He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; + He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: + His truth is marching on!'" + +sang a low voice beside them. "Children, this is a glorious day." Mr. +Huntsworth's voice was tremulous with emotion and his eyes were misty. "It +is a sad spectacle to see brave men humiliated and humbled, but aside +from my sympathy for the Southerners it makes my old heart beat with joy +to be under the Stars and Stripes once more. Let us greet the General." + +He stepped forward briskly. General Grant stopped his horse as they +approached. + +"We want to give you welcome, sir," said Mr. Huntsworth extending his +hand. "We are Unionists released only by your successful siege from +'durance vile.' Welcome, sir, welcome!" + +"You must have found our shells pretty warm," said Grant shaking his +hands. "How did you live?" + +"Sir," replied the old gentleman whimsically, "you made us like the +Southerners' favorite bread: dodgers." + +Grant smiled, and then asked. "And are these Federals too?" + +"One is a soldier, the other a--what shall I call you, Jeanne? A blockade +runner or what?" + +"I am a Union girl," said Jeanne smiling into the gray eyes above her. +"A Union girl longing for home." + +"Where is your home?" asked Grant. "Suppose you three come along with me +and tell me the whole story." + +They did as he requested. The man of iron will heard them silently. Then +he spoke. + +"Get your dispatches ready," he said. "I will send them with mine to +Washington and then have them forwarded. You will take your sister home of +course." + +"I ought to get back to my regiment as quick as I can, sir." + +"Nonsense! I will write your General concerning it. If you have been in +ever since the war opened it's high time you had a furlough. I will stand +responsible. You shall all start to-morrow." + +It was a sad leave taking for Bob and Jeanne. + +"I will see you again," said Jeanne tearfully as she told Bob good-bye. +"Something tells me that we will meet again. And when the war is over, +Bob, we will have fine times together. Where do you go from here?" + +"To Richmond," answered Bob drearily. "You're not leaving us much +territory, Jeanne. We are being narrowed down. I fear, I fear----" + +With a burst of tears she ran from them and it was many a long day before +Jeanne saw her again. With saddened hearts they left the city of terraces +behind them, and at last Jeanne was en route for home. + +Home! One of the sweetest words in the English language. The brilliant +verdure of the Southland receded from view, and the more sober vegetation +of the Northland came in sight. To Jeanne's longing eyes it had never +appeared more beautiful. As they boarded a train they heard the newsboys +crying--"Victory at Gettysburg! Grand victory at Gettysburg! Paper, +sir? Paper?" + +"Here!" called Dick and Mr. Huntsworth in one breath, and they were soon +emersed in the details of the fight at Gettysburg. + +"It's the turning point of the war," said Mr. Huntsworth. "It cannot be +long surely before Lee will surrender." + +"It would seem so," cried Dick with exultation. "But who can withstand +us? We have freed the negroes! We have taken New Orleans, Vicksburg, the +mighty, has fallen, and Lee's army defeated in his invasion of free soil. +Hurrah! + + "'In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, + With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: + As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free, + While God is marching on!'" + +he broke out boyishly. Mr. Huntsworth joined in and soon another and +another took up the terrible Battle Hymn of the Republic until it rolled +in one grand volume above the rush of the train. + +"Jeanne, there's father," cried Dick as the train drew in at the +Cincinnati station. + +The girl looked out to see both Mr. and Mrs. Vance standing on the +platform watching the outcoming people eagerly. + +With a cry of thankfulness she darted forward and flung herself into her +mother's arms. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE UNION*** + + +******* This file should be named 32993.txt or 32993.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/9/9/32993 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/32993.zip b/32993.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..35da384 --- /dev/null +++ b/32993.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8fceab --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #32993 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/32993) |