Part 9 (1/2)
The steamer which had been a pa.s.senger packet plying her trade between St. Louis and New Orleans before the war had been converted into a transport for carrying men and supplies for the government. As Mr.
Huntsworth and Jeanne ascended the gangplank they were met by the Captain.
”Is this the young lady who is to be our guest down the river?” he asked in such a hearty way that Jeanne's heart warmed to him immediately.
”General Wallace advised me that I was to expect one.”
”This is the girl, Captain,” replied Mr. Huntsworth. ”And I hope for your sake that you and your crew are thoroughly Union, otherwise it would be better for you to meet with a rebel ram. I don't believe that the Johnnies could make it any warmer for you than she could.”
”This is just the place for her then,” declared the Captain smilingly.
”We are Union to the core, Miss Vance. I believe that is your name.”
”Yes, sir; my name is Jeanne Vance, but please do not call me 'Miss Vance.' It makes me feel so strange.”
”All right, my little girl. I will do as you say. I am glad that you have no grown-up notions about you. I foresee that we shall get along famously.
This is the way to the cabin, and that room is where you will bunk. It is next to mine. You can call on me or Tennessee for anything you need.”
”Tennessee!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jeanne with a puzzled look.
”Yes; our cook. We call her Tenny for short, and she is about the jolliest old darky that ever trod a deck. A good motherly woman with a white soul if she is black. Now make yourself comfortable. I will send Tenny to you to help you. I have some things to attend to on deck.”
”Isn't he kind?” exclaimed Jeanne. ”How good people are to girls traveling alone!”
”It is because they are Americans,” said Mr. Huntsworth. ”You should be proud of such a country. I am glad that you have fallen into such pleasant hands. I will tell your father if I see him before you do. Will you stay in New Orleans long?”
”I don't know. I will have to hear from my father about that. But how easy it has been to get there!”
”The most difficult part is to come,” said the old gentleman gravely.
”Once the Vicksburg batteries are pa.s.sed you will be safe. I do not think that this boat will try to make the run. She is hardly in fighting shape.
Of course you will be transferred to a gun boat. Well, well, I hope that you will get through all right and that we will soon meet again. Good-bye, little girl.”
”Good-bye, sir,” and Jeanne shook hands with him cordially. ”Thank you so much for all your kindness. I hope that I will see you again. Good-bye.”
Another hand shake and the old gentleman left the cabin slowly, and went on sh.o.r.e.
”Done you feel bad, honey,” and a fat negress came up to her as she sat down on the side of her berth feeling rather forlorn. ”Wus dat yer par?”
”No,” and Jeanne looked up quickly with a smile. ”Are you Tennessee? I am glad to see you. The Captain told me about you.”
”Yes; I'se Tennessee, honey, but lawsie! Dey doesn't call me nuffin but Tenny. But ef yer want ter see the las' ob de ole gem'muns jest foller yer aunty ter de deck.”
Jeanne followed the negress, and stood on the deck watching the preparations for departure. Mr. Huntsworth saw her and waved his hand. Jeanne waved hers in response, and as the transport backed out into the river and steamed southward, she gazed at him until his figure grew to be a tiny speck and then disappeared in the distance.
”Now, missy, I'se got ter ten' ter de dinner, but you can k.u.m wid me ef yer likes, elsen you can stay hyar and watch de ribber. Most folks likes ter do dat. I 'spect mebbe dats de best thing fer yer.”
”Well, then I will stay, Mrs. Tenny,” smiled Jeanne.
”Mrs. Tenny! Huh! Who is yer talkin' to, honey? I'se jest Tenny or aunty jest as yer likes. But done go ter puttin' no missis on to it. White folks done do dat down hyar.”
”Then I will call you Tenny,” said Jeanne, recoiling just a little from calling the woman aunty. ”But it doesn't seem right not to say Mrs.”