Part 12 (1/2)
”How are you this morning, Jeanne?” was the Captain's salutation. ”Pretty thankful to be on earth, aren't you? Admiral,” turning to a slight, modest looking middle aged man with gray hair, ”this is the girl I was telling you about. She stood fire last night like a veteran.”
”You have shown yourself to be a true heroine,” said Admiral Farragut taking her hand. ”It is not often that we meet such courage in one so young.”
”I never heard that you were deficient in this quality,” said the Captain.
”Seems to me that I've heard of a number of your exploits when you were a lad.”
”I was a boy, Captain. One expects such things from a lad but a tender, delicate little girl,”--and he smiled such a winning smile at Jeanne that she involuntarily drew closer to him,--”that is decidedly different. Boys take to such things naturally unless they are molly coddles. Were you not afraid, little girl?”
”Not until it was over,” answered Jeanne shyly. ”But it was a dreadful time. I can't help thinking of those poor men on the gunboat----” Her voice faltered and her eyes filled with tears.
”Yes, child.” The Admiral pressed her hand warmly. ”That is the worst part of it. To lose such gallant fellows is one of the hard things of war. And yet--there is no n.o.bler death than to fall in defense of one's country.
But the Captain tells me that you have a message for me.”
”Yes, sir. I have a letter from my father to Commodore Porter, and General Wallace added a few lines for you. I will get it.”
She ran to her stateroom and soon returned with the letter. ”It is for any one on our side to read,” she said, as Farragut hesitated slightly.
”In that case,” smiled the Admiral. ”I will read it. So, my little one, it is very necessary for you to get to New Orleans? You are young to be sent on business for the government. Tell me what led you to undertake such a thing.”
”Because I love my country and wished to do something for her,” replied Jeanne so fervently that Farragut's face kindled in response.
”Well said,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. ”That's the stuff I wish that all Americans were made of. But have you no mother?”
”I have a dear mother,” answered Jeanne quickly. ”She was quite willing for me to come as it was necessary. She made me this flag,” drawing it from her bosom, ”and told me that not even for life itself must I betray it. I have kissed it every night,” continued the girl caressing its folds fondly, ”and I keep it right over my heart that no traitorous thought may enter there.”
”My dear child,” a tear glistened in the Admiral's eye, ”you are a brave girl and have a n.o.ble mother. So long as America can produce such women there will be no fear for the Union. You shall get to New Orleans as quickly as possible. If it were needful I would clear a pa.s.sage with my guns. But that will not be necessary. You will soon see the end of your journey. Would that all messengers were as brave as you have shown yourself.”
”Perhaps they would be if they could meet with such treatment as I have, sir. Some of them are very bold and daring, and run fearful risks. I have heard my father tell of their narrow escapes. And some of them,” and her eyes grew sorrowful, ”never get back. I have done nothing compared with what many of them have done.”
”It is a great deal,” said Farragut kindly. ”More than most girls could do.”
And so petted and made much of by officers and men the girl made the rest of her journey down the river without incident. The entire fleet of Farragut was brought to New Orleans because the Admiral realized the futility of taking Vicksburg without troops to hold it. General Butler at New Orleans had none to send him, and Halleck dawdled at Corinth most inexplicably. Many of the men were prostrated by fever and rest was a necessity.
Into the crescent shaped harbor upon which the city stood the fleet came to anchor, and Jeanne, full of antic.i.p.ation at the thought of seeing her uncle and the successful termination of her mission, stood ready to go ash.o.r.e. Captain Leathers came to her side.
”You are to go with Admiral Farragut,” he said. ”He will take you to General Butler who will know just where to find your uncle.”
”Thank you,” said Jeanne gratefully. ”How kind you have been to me, Captain Leathers. I will never forget you.”
”And I will never forget you,” said the Captain heartily. ”When people brave death together it always makes them feel a sort of kins.h.i.+p, don't you think? And at any time you want to go back I'll carry you if I am here.”
”Thank you,” said the girl again. They shook hands and the Captain started to lead her ash.o.r.e when Tenny ran after them.
”Sh.o.r.ely you ain't gwine ter leab without tellin' ole Tenny good-bye, is yer?” she panted.
”No, no, Tenny. I hope to see you soon again,” said Jeanne warmly for she had conceived a real regard for the faithful creature. ”And I won't forget about s...o...b..ll.”
”Bress yer haht, I knows yer won't. Ole Tenny nebber cease ter gib thanks dat she hab met yer. Good-bye, honey.”
”Good-bye,” said Jeanne again and then she followed the Captain down the cotton platform, which was raised above the levee for the convenient loading of cotton, to the levee itself, and along the banks to DeLord Street where they were joined by Admiral Farragut. Jeanne bade the Captain adieu and then walked slowly by the Admiral's side through the busy streets en route for the St. Charles Hotel where General Butler had his headquarters. The city had recovered something of its former activity, and wore its accustomed garb of careless gaiety and business bustle.