“‘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.’”
“‘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 haveme 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.
Jeanneuttered 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 smallestreturn 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 itled 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 wonderinglyabout 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 Governmentconfiscated 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!”
“Wemust 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 whereyou 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, thatyou 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 hisname. 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 tofifteen 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. Hefelt 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 aConfederate 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. Jeannetittered 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.
WhenJeanne 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 situatedas 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 allattacks 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 leftthe 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 investigatefurther. 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.
“Youdear 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 hadtaken, 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 shallboth 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 heatwas 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, althoughthe 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 ofrelief. “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 heraunt 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.
Andso, 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 broughtface 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 brieflysketched 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 thecity. 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 toyour 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 seemter 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.