CHAPTER XVIII
IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP
It was late when Jeanne awoke, and springing up she dressed hastily andwent downstairs. There was no one in the living-room. The fire had dieddown and a few glowing coals gleamed red in the ashes. Full of a vaguealarm and fearing she knew not what, Jeanne ran into the kitchen but therewas no one there. Quickly she ran from one room to another but all wereempty. The apartments appeared larger and more desolate than ever intheir emptiness. Again and again the now frightened girl ran through therooms and out upon the galleries, but the echo of her own voice was allthe answer that came to her cries. At last the truth dawned upon her.She had been abandoned by her uncle and aunt.
This then was the meaning of Madame's laughter. She, Jeanne, a Uniongirl, had been left to get along as best she could on a lonely, desertedplantation in the very midst of rebeldom; to live or die as the casemight be.
With a cry the girl flung herself upon the floor and let the flood ofher anguish sweep over her. A great fear was upon her. The fear of theunknown. Never before had she been so utterly, so entirely alone. It waslong before she could control herself, and when at last she sat up, andtried to think calmly, she seemed to have grown older.
"I must be brave," she thought. "Perhaps it is better so after all. I amno worse off than I was with them. May be I can make my way back to NewOrleans and General Butler will send me home. But where am I? I don't knowwhether it is Alabama or Mississippi, but whichever it is, I must try toget back to Louisiana. Oh, my money!"
Hastily she searched for it and, to her great joy, found the bills safelyhidden in the lining of her dress. Long ago her aunt had complained of thethieving of the blacks, and cautioned Jeanne to hide securely whatevershe had of value.
"Aunt Clarisse must have forgotten it," she exulted, "or she would havetaken it from me. 'One can always get along if one has money,' fathersaid. This will help me to get home. I wonder if my flag is safe!"
Full of anxiety lest the beloved emblem might have been taken she thrusther hand into the folds of her dress, and to her great delight, found itstill there. Drawing it forth she gazed at it lovingly, and then shook itout straight. As she did so her eye was caught by a piece of paper pinnedto one corner of it. With an exclamation Jeanne caught at it eagerly.
"My dear little Yankee," it ran. "We leave you in possession. There isnot much to eat in the house, but ma foi! what care you? Have you not yourflag? Knowing your penchant for appropriating other people's property wehave given you an opportunity to acquire more belongings. Are we not kind?
"Should you see your honored parents again (which I very much doubt)present my truest affection to them. Hoping that your solitude will giveyou time to repent of your past misdeeds, believe me,
"As ever, "Cherie."
Jeanne's eyes blazed in sudden anger, and she clenched her handsdeterminedly.
"I will see my parents again," she cried, passionately. "I will, I will!All the rebels in the world shall not keep me from it! I'll start rightback for New Orleans."
Full of this resolution she arose and went into the house in search ofsomething to eat! As Madame Vance had written there was very little foodin the dwelling. A thin slice of bacon and a small hoe cake was all thatJeanne could find, but she ate them, then started forth on her journeyback to New Orleans.
Taking what she believed was the road over which they had come the girltrudged bravely along although it wound through a deep forest. On and onthrough the dark green gloom of the woodland she walked, knowing nothingof the vegetation of the South, and afraid to touch herbs or the wildfruit.
"I did not think the forest went so far," she murmured, as the day woreaway and the shadowy vista of woods still opened before her. "And therewas a house just beyond the trees. I ought to get to it soon. Then I willask to stay for the night."
But the woods grew denser, and the road became but a narrow bridle path.The afternoon drew to a close, and the brief twilight came suddenly uponher in the depths of the forest.
Jeanne stopped dismayed, and then sank down at the foot of a tall pine.A feeling of homesick desolation crept over her, filling her with vague,undefined forebodings. The tall long-leaved pines and funereal cypresstrees rose on either side. The twilight deepened into night and the humof Nature's wildwood insects came to her ear. From the deeper forestcame the plaintive cry of the whippoorwill. As the darkness deepened thehooting of the owls could be heard and the croaking of some frogs froma near-by swamp.
Jeanne felt cold chills creep up and down her back as the tall treesfestooned with gray moss, almost reaching to the ground, swayed to andfro as a shiver of moaning wind stirred the air.
"I cannot stay here," she exclaimed springing to her feet. "It is betterto keep on walking. Surely there must be a house somewhere near!"
And so, though she was faint from hunger and weary from walking, shetrudged on. Presently the moon came up and deluged the forest with ashining flood of light. The dark pines, half in shadow, half in sheen,loomed vast and giant-like on either side of the gleaming path beneath.
Afraid to stop and rest, Jeanne walked on and on. All at once she heardsinging. The sound filled her with new life and she hastened eagerlyin its direction. Louder and louder came the melody to her ears untilpresently she was able to distinguish the words:
"'Do they miss me at home, Do they miss me? 'Twould be an assurance most dear, To know at this moment some lov'd one Were saying, "I wish he were here"; To feel that the group at the fireside Were thinking of me as I roam; Oh, yes, 'twould be joy beyond measure To know that they miss me at home, To know that they miss me at home.'"
Tears rushed into the girl's eyes and a sob broke from her lips. "Do theymiss me, I wonder?" she said brokenly. "Oh, mother, mother! How littledo you think that I am wandering about in the woods without a place tolay my head. Mother, mother!"
"'Do they set me a chair near the table, When evening's home pleasures are nigh, When the candles are lit in the parlor, And the stars in the calm, azure sky? And when the good-nights are repeated, And all lay them down to their sleep, Do they think of the absent and waft me A whisper'd "good-night" while they weep? A whisper'd "good-night" while they weep?'"
Jeanne looked up as the singer came toward her. The bright moonlight fellfull upon him as he paused for a moment to examine the lock of his gun,and she saw that he was a Confederate soldier on picket duty. He resumedthe song as he swung the gun back to his shoulder.
"He is like Dick," thought the lonely girl. "I am sure that he has a kindheart, or he would not sing that song. Maybe he has a sister too."
Summoning all her courage she spoke timidly. "Sir," she said.
"Who goes there?" cried the startled picket with an ominous click of hisweapon.
"Just a little girl," answered Jeanne, coming forward into the moonlight."I'm lost, and I don't know where to go."
"A girl! It's true I do declare!" burst from the sentinel's lips as helowered his gun. "How do you come to be here in the woods at this timeof night?"
"I am trying to get back to New Orleans, and I must have taken the wrongroad." Jeanne was trembling but she tried to control herself. "Oh, couldyou tell me where I could get something to eat and a place to sleep? I--Iam afraid."
Her voice broke and despite her efforts at self-command she burst intotears.
"There! Never mind! I'll take you to Miss Bob," said the soldier withrough kindness. "The woods ain't no place fur a girl at night. Just comewith me."
Jeanne followed him gladly. A brisk walk of fifteen minutes brought themto a camp. The tents gleamed white among the trees and it seemed to thegirl as though she had never seen so many in all her life before. Somemen lounged lazily about one of the many fires that dotted the place,talking in subdued tones. They stared at the girl as the sentinel camein with her but made no remark. The soldier pause
d before a small tentand called softly:
"Miss Bob! Miss Bob! are you asleep?"
"What is it, Johnson?" came the reply in the soft sleepy tones of a girl.
"Here is a girl out here who is lost. She is hungry and wants a place tosleep. Will you see to her? I am on duty."
"Certainly. Go back to your post, Johnson. I will be out in a minute."
"All right." The soldier saluted and walked off leaving Jeanne a prey toconflicting emotions.
In a few moments the flap of the tent was pushed aside, and the slightfigure of a girl about Jeanne's own age emerged from it.
"You are lost?" she asked advancing toward Jeanne and speaking quickly."And hungry, I think Johnson said. Come, we'll have something to eat, andthen go to bed. Are you tired?"
Jeanne nodded, unable to speak.
"Sit here by the fire while I fix things. Jim," to one of the men, "thisgirl is hungry. Will you help me get something for her to eat?"
"'Course I will, Miss Bob." The man sprang to his feet and walked brisklyaway disappearing into what Jeanne afterward learned was the commissarydepartment.
"We'll have something in a jiffy," remarked the girl encouragingly,beginning to poke up the fire.
"See here, Miss Bob, let me do that," and another of the men ran to herside. "I reckon Jim and me can fix things. 'Tain't no work for you."
Soon cold chicken, bread, and hot coffee were placed before the hungrygirl and she ate ravenously.
"I didn't know that soldiers had chickens to eat," she remarked with asigh of satisfaction as she finished the last morsel.
The girl called Bob laughed merrily, the men joining in heartily.
"We don't usually," and Bob controlled her risibles with difficulty, "butyou see a whole heap of them walked right into camp, and so of course weate them."
"Wasn't it queer that they should come right into camp?" said seriousJeanne. "I always thought that you had to run after them to catch them."
Again the girl and the men laughed.
"Of course they didn't exactly come here," said Bob comfortably, "butwe've got the smartest regiment in the whole Confederate army. I verilybelieve that it could catch and skin a hog without a man leaving theranks. Oh, they are fine foragers!"
"Forager?" Jeanne looked mystified. "I wonder if Dick is a forager!"
"Who is Dick?"
"Dick is my brother in the army," said Jeanne proudly.
"Well, if he is a soldier you can depend upon it that he is a forager,"said Bob with decision. "Which side is your brother on?"
"The Union."
The smile died away from the girl's lips at the reply, and she looked atJeanne with coldness.
"I did not think that you were a Southerner when you spoke," she said."What are you doing here? We are Confederates."
"Yes, I know," answered Jeanne. "My aunt and uncle left me on a desertedplantation because I was a Yankee, and I started back to New Orleanshoping that General Butler would send me home. I must have taken thewrong road, and so gotten lost. You won't turn me away, will you, justbecause I am a Yankee?"
"No; not for to-night anyway. I just hate Yankees, but I reckon you don'tcount as you are a girl. Come on to bed now, and we'll talk it over inthe morning."
And Jeanne went into the tent content to let the morrow take care ofitself now that she was sheltered for the night.