A Daughter of the Union Part 40

"There is the property," said Madame suddenly to Jeanne. "That Yankee General seized it in your name and declared that he should hold it for you. It was to pay us for putting it in your name. It is yours, but I want d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k?"

"Here," and d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k, Aunt Sally, Jeanne, Bob and a few servants came forth from the cave to perform the last sad rites for all that remained of Mr. Vance, Madame and their relatives.

Even in the softening light of the moon the blighting hand of warfare was visible over the town. The closed and desolate houses, the gardens with gates half open in which were the loveliest flowers and verdure! The carelessness of appearance and evident haste of departure was visible everywhere, the inhabitants feeling only anxiety for their personal safety and the strength of their cave homes.

The guns were still and peace for a time reigned over the troubled city.

The stars shone coldly down upon them, twinkling as brightly as though no great strife was being waged beneath them.

Jeanne's tears were falling fast as she walked back by d.i.c.k's side in the cool fresh air of the morning.

"d.i.c.k," 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 d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k? She is dead now and can never harm us any more."

"Yes; I forgave her when she was lying there in my arms," said d.i.c.k. "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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k. "Isn't it fine the way we are giving it to them, Jeanne? I just stand and watch those sh.e.l.ls in wonder. General Grant has worked for months for this and now the end is near."

"What makes you so positive, d.i.c.k?"

"Yesterday there were some people who tried to pa.s.s 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, d.i.c.k," and Jeanne clapped her hands for joy.

"Hush! not a word," said d.i.c.k. "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 s...o...b..ll is," mused Jeanne, as she retired.

The morning brought the answer. As the sh.e.l.ling was resumed with more frequency than ever for the delay, a number of negroes rushed into the cave.

"We 'longs ter yer now," said s...o...b..ll acting as spokesman for the others.

"Hyar's me, an' Jeff, an' Feliciane, lill' missy. Missus Adele's n.i.g.g.as done gone ter her folks, an' we reckoned we 'longed ter yer an' Ma.s.sa d.i.c.k."

"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 s...o...b..ll 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 b.a.l.l.s were accompanied by Parrott, Canister, solid shot and shrapnel sh.e.l.ls, and projectiles of all kinds, the soldiers became almost indifferent to them, and frequently sang amid the pattering of the b.a.l.l.s.

One evening as they sat in front of the cave a young officer pa.s.sed 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 sh.e.l.ls were whistling thro' the air.

Listen to the Parrott sh.e.l.ls, Listen to the Parrott sh.e.l.ls; The Parrott sh.e.l.ls are whistling thro' the air.

"'Oh! well will we remember, Remember, remember, Tough mule meat June sans November, And the Minie b.a.l.l.s that whistled thro' the air Listen to the Minie b.a.l.l.s, Listen to the Minie b.a.l.l.s; The Minie b.a.l.l.s 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 pa.s.sed by.

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE END OF THE SIEGE

It was the morning of the Fourth of July. Jeanne awoke from a deep sleep. Generally about four o'clock the shrapnel sh.e.l.ls 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 pa.s.sed on the hillside near the cave. Stopping and touching his cap the man replied: