A Daughter of the Union Part 7

"They call them n.i.g.g.e.rs here," said Mr. Huntsworth smiling. "Yes; their singing is melodious. I have always liked to listen to it. Sometime in the future, I fancy, more will be made of those melodies than we dream of now. When you go down the river you will hear more of it. Some of their songs are very quaint. Do you know that we will have to see General Wallace to obtain a permit to go into the enemy's country?"

"General Wallace?" repeated Jeanne. "Why?"

"The town is under martial law with General Wallace in command. I have been wondering what will be the best for you to do. To come with me to Corinth, for we can go there without difficulty, or for you to stick to the river route as you had intended. I have learned that Vicksburg is not in our hands after all. Its capitulation was a false report. Farragut is waiting for Halleck to send troops to occupy it and is still keeping up the bombardment."

"But a boat could get through, could it not?"

"Yes; I think so. Davis guards the stream above Vicksburg while the Commodore holds the lower part. I'll talk with General Wallace about it.

Meantime after we have had breakfast you can walk along this esplanade, and see something of the place. You will not get lost, will you?"

"No, indeed," laughed Jeanne. "I came from New York, you know. I should be able to get around a little place like this."

"Very well, then."

Jeanne donned her hat and wandered along the wide esplanade viewing the city, the river and the surrounding country. She walked on and on until finally she had wandered some distance from the hotel and the buildings were growing farther and farther apart when she was startled by a groan.

Looking about her she beheld a young fellow of about twenty-one years clad in the blue uniform of the United States lying upon the ground. Without a thought but that one of the soldiers was suffering Jeanne sprang to his side and knelt beside him.

"What is it?" she cried. "Are you hurt?"

"Just faint," murmured the young man in a weak voice, and the girl noted with surprise the Southern accent. "I'll be all right in a moment."

"Smell this." Jeanne thrust her bottle of smelling salts under his nose, and began to chafe his forehead vigorously. "There! You're better now, aren't you?"

"Much better." The young fellow struggled to a sitting posture and smiled wanly. "What a good little thing you are!"

"Well, I like soldiers," said Jeanne. "My brother, d.i.c.k, is one, and whenever I see a soldier suffering I always want to do something for him.

You are fighting for us, you know. Are you sick?"

"No; but I have been. I just came out of the hospital a few days ago, and I am not so strong as I thought."

"You should go home and stay until you get well," said the girl with a quaint a.s.sumption of maternal authority.

"Home! I have none." The young man's brow darkened. "If I were to go to my home, I would be spurned from its doors."

"But why?" cried Jeanne.

"Listen, and you shall hear, child. I am a native of the state of Louisiana. I was educated at West Point, and when the war broke out had just graduated. You know the conditions under which we are entered, do you not?"

Jeanne shook her head.

"We are to serve the country four years for the education given, so when the war came I felt it my duty to give those four years. I went to my father and told him so briefly. 'Never darken my door again while you wear that uniform,' he said. 'You are no son of mine if you side in with a horde of miscreants sent to invade the sacred soil of the South.' I told him that it was my duty. That I had but just graduated and that my honor demanded that I should repay my debt to the government, but he would not listen. So I left him."

"But have you no friends?" asked Jeanne, her face aglow with compa.s.sion.

"Friends? No; they fight on the other side," was the bitter reply. "And what do these Yankees care for me? They don't realize what I have given up."

"But we do care," cried the girl. "My father and mother just love soldiers. Oh, if you would only go to them they would care for you. Do go. Will you?"

A smile lighted up the young man's face as he noted her warmth.

"I wish all your people were like you," he said. "It would not be so hard to do my duty then."

"We are all just alike," said Jeanne. "My father would be proud to have you honor his house. And you are an officer, too," she added, glancing at his epaulets.

"Only a lieutenant."

"Well, it doesn't matter what you are since you are a soldier. Have you a pencil and paper?"

"Yes; why?"

"I want to give you my father's address. You will go there, won't you?"

"My little girl," the young man's voice was husky. "I couldn't do that, you know. Why, it would be monstrous to intrude upon them."

"No; it would not," declared Jeanne. "I wish I were going home. I'd make you go with me. But won't you go? Truly they would welcome you as if you were d.i.c.k, my brother. And if you don't go, I'll always feel as if something had happened to you just because you had no place to go. You have done a great deal for our side, you know."

"Well, I'll promise," said the soldier a little wearily, as if it were beyond his strength to prolong the argument. "Where do they live?"

"In New York City," and Jeanne rapidly penciled the address.

"Then it is utterly out of the question. I can't promise you."

"I know," said Jeanne quickly. "You haven't any money."

A flush pa.s.sed over the Lieutenant's face.

"Soldiers never do have, d.i.c.k says," went on the girl, taking out her purse in a matter-of-fact way.

"No--no, I--I can't do that," groaned the soldier. "Merciful goodness, has it come to this? That I should receive charity from a child!"

"It isn't charity," cried Jeanne hotly. "You can pay it back to my father if you like. I want you to get good and strong so that you can fight for us again."

"I'll do it," exclaimed the young fellow impulsively. "A few weeks' rest would put new life in me. And I'll be your soldier, little girl."

"Will you?" cried Jeanne delightedly. "That will be most as good as if I could fight myself, won't it?"

"Every bit," declared the Lieutenant rising. "G.o.d bless you, child. Such warm hearts as yours make life seem worth the living after all."

He raised her hand to his lips. Then as if afraid to trust himself to speak further left her abruptly. Excited and happy Jeanne ran back to the hotel where she found Mr. Huntsworth waiting for her.

CHAPTER VI

IN DIXIE LAND