CHAPTER XXVIIA PRISONER OF WAR

“Butwhat 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. Youcannot 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 hewould 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 strengthto 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 thelady’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.”

“Thenwe 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 Colonelhas 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 intoslumber 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 thehouse 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 railingof 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 thedifference 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.”

Sinceleaving 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 acave 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 wasovercome 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 Iwant 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 theirpersonal 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 airListen to the Minie balls,Listen to the Minie balls;The Minie balls are singing in the air.’”

“‘’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.

Itwas 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 hillsidenear 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 Peytonjoining 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. “Kumhyar 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.

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