A Daughter of the Union Part 35

"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 d.i.c.k, looking up at her with eager eyes. "They are not, are they?"

"Yes," cried Jeanne, indignantly. "They are true, d.i.c.k! As true as I live!

Why should I tell you a falsehood?"

"Are they?" and d.i.c.k'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 d.i.c.k breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew that you could not be so wicked and cruel."

"d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k," cried his sister pa.s.sionately. "You must believe me. It is true. All that I tell you and more. Oh, d.i.c.k, turn away from that wicked woman! Don't let her touch you! I will take care of you."

"I will leave you, d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k 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, pet.i.te.

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 d.i.c.k. 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. d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k'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.

"d.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sed, 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k'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 d.i.c.k."

With bursting heart Jeanne saw the two disappear into d.i.c.k'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.