Part 33 (2/2)

”The surgeon dressed my wound when they reached the station. Then they threw me into this box car. I felt worse because I didn't know what had become of you.”

”Now you must rest,” said Jeanne, holding him tenderly against her. ”We are still together, d.i.c.k. You must sleep if you can.”

And so through all the long dark night the girl held her wounded brother, and strove to break the jolting of the rough car. Her arms ached from their burden, and her limbs were numb, but she breathed no word of discomfort.

Sometimes d.i.c.k would fall into a fitful sleep in which he murmured feverishly and then he would awake with a start, but Jeanne was always awake to soothe him and to quiet his wandering fancy.

At last the long hours of darkness pa.s.sed, as the longest and darkest must, and the sun rose lightening up even the gloomy box car with its rays. Pale and wan d.i.c.k looked in the morning light and Jeanne's heart was very full as she gazed at him.

”What would mother say if she could see him?” she thought. ”Oh, if she were only here to take care of him! But she can't be and I must do my best. G.o.d help me!”

About nine o'clock the train slowed down and presently pulled into a station. After a long time the doors of the car opened and some Confederate soldiers appeared.

”All out for Vicksburg,” called one facetiously.

”Shut up!” said another. ”Don't you see that the boy is wounded and the girl doesn't look any better than he does.”

”What are you going to do with him?” cried Jeanne in alarm as two of the men lifted d.i.c.k up.

”Take him to the provost marshal and then to the hospital. He is our prisoner, you know.”

”Then you must take me right along with him,” said Jeanne, decidedly, rising stiffly. ”I suppose I am a prisoner too.”

”I rather reckon so,” was the dry reply.

Jeanne said no more but followed closely after the man as d.i.c.k was carried into the station. The depot was thronged with soldiers waiting to go out to the batteries. She obtained her first glimpse of the ”Gibraltar of the South” as she drove through its streets by d.i.c.k's side, in an ambulance.

The city presented a fine appearance situated as it was on the wooded summits of the Walnut Hills. From these elevations the flat alluvial country around could be seen in every direction, which with its forests of oaks and cottonwood interspersed with extensive plantations, formed a picture of great panoramic beauty. The main portion of the city lay near the water front and above it the hills were crowned with elegant private residences, and made conspicuous by the high walls of the public buildings. The court-house, a large structure of light gray limestone, crowned the summit of one of the hills and was one of the first objects to catch the eye. The streets rose from the river with an abrupt difficult ascent and were cut through the bluffs and hills directly to the edge of the levee.

With something approaching awe Jeanne gazed at the formidable batteries which had been erected to dispute the advance of the Federals. The most of them were near the lower end of the town as if the greatest danger were to be apprehended from that point. One tier was near the top of the bluff, another about halfway down from the summit to the water. A single row of water batteries was located near the brink of the river to repel all attacks made at close range. The batteries on the hills causing more trouble to the Unionists than those lower down as none of the Federal guns could be elevated sufficiently to reach them while their shot could be made to plunge through the decks and disable whatever boats or vessels came within their range. As Jeanne gazed on these formidable defenses she could not but wonder how the transport had escaped destruction.

The provost marshal was reached at last and d.i.c.k's name and regiment were duly registered. Then the provost turned to Jeanne.

”I don't know what to do with you,” he said. ”What were you doing?”

”d.i.c.k and I were trying to reach the Mississippi River hoping that we might get home,” said Jeanne.

”Were you carrying anything beyond the lines?”

”No, sir.”

”How came you within our lines?” persisted the officer, attracted by her youth and innocence, yet determined to probe the affair to the bottom.

”I came from New Orleans,” said Jeanne. ”I was visiting my uncle. When they left the city they took me with them but left me at a deserted plantation. I started back to New Orleans but fell in with Colonel Peyton's camp and he was bringing me to Jackson where he said that he would send me to our side. I met d.i.c.k and so went with him because he is my brother.”

”But what was d.i.c.k doing here?” queried the man. ”What business has a Union soldier in this part of the country?”

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