Two days afterwards, Barbara and her mother were on their way to
Montreal.
This was the flank movement, and it was thus accomplished. The second
morning after her husband's departure, Mrs. Dinwiddie burst into
Barbara's apartment with the intelligence that she had just received a
telegraphic dispatch from Mr. Dinwiddie, bidding her start at once for
Montreal to procure certain funds in the hands of a certain party there,
which funds were immediately wanted. Barbara, to whom all business
matters were mysteries profound as the income-tax or the national debt,
received it all without a question. She did not stop to ask, "Why
doesn't father send one of his clerks?" or "Why can't he do it all by
letter?" She took it for granted that there was a great hurry about
something that required an instant journey to Montreal. So she wrote a
letter to Captain Penrose, (which Mrs. Dinwiddie took good care to
intercept,) and, before another hour had slipped by, mother and daughter
were at the Northern railway station.
The old lady had taken the precaution to send Nero on an errand out of
the city, and had hired a public hack to convey her to the cars. But as
she was attending to her trunk, an officious gentleman in black stepped
up to Barbara, and asked for what place she wished to have the baggage
checked. Before Mrs. Dinwiddie could interpose, Barbara had answered,
"Montreal." Thereupon the gentleman had simply remarked, "I don't think
they check baggage so far," and then had walked away in the direction of
the telegraph-office,--for what purpose the sequel must suggest. Mrs.
Dinwiddie thought nothing more of the matter. They passed through
Philadelphia and New York the next day uninterrupted.
At Rutland, Vt., a very civil sort of gentleman accosted them in the
car, and, on learning that they were on their way to Canada, asked if
they had passports. On Mrs. Dinwiddie's replying in the negative, he
informed her, that, by a recent order of the United States Government,
persons travelling to and from Canada were required to have passports;
and he advised her to stop at Rutland, and he would telegraph to New
York and procure them. After some hesitation, she consented to do this.
The third day of her detention, her volunteer informant came with the
necessary papers, and at the same time introduced Mr. Glide, an
obsequious little gentleman, who said he was going to Montreal, and
should be happy to render any service in his power to the ladies.
"Surely, Sir, I have seen you before," said Mrs. Dinwiddie. "Are you not
from Baltimore?"
"Yes, Madam; and I will tell you where we last met: 't was at the secret
gathering of ladies and gentlemen for purchasing a new outfit for Mrs.
Jefferson Davis."
"Hush!" said Mrs. Dinwiddie, slightly alarmed.
"Oh, there's no danger," returned Mr. Glide. "I'm discreet. Your
devotion to the Confederate cause, Madam, your noble efforts, your
sacrifices, have long been known to me; and I rejoice at having this
opportunity of expressing my thanks and my admiration. Is there anything
I can do for you?"
Mrs. Dinwiddie looked significantly at him, nodded her head by way of
warning, and glanced at her daughter.
"I see, Madam," murmured Mr. Glide, in a confidential tone.
"Barbara, go and pack my trunk," said she.
Barbara left the room.
"Now, Sir," resumed Mrs. Dinwiddie, "I will confide to you my troubles.
That young girl has recently engaged herself, against my wishes, to a
young man,--a captain in the Yankee army."
"Engaged herself to a Yankee? But, oh, Madam, what an affliction! what a
humiliation!"
"Yes, Sir, 't is all that."
"I agree with Mr. Davis, Madam, that the Yankees are the scum of the
world. Is there no way by which you can avert from your family the
threatened disgrace?"
"Well, Sir, I have formed a plan, and, if you will lend me your aid, I
think we may manage to put the infatuated girl for a time where she will
have an opportunity of recovering her senses."
"My dear Madam, I shall be delighted to serve you in any such good work.
To save youth and beauty from the polluting touch of a Yankee captain
might well call forth the warmest zeal, the most devoted daring, of any
native of the sunny South."
"Sir, your sentiments do you honor. This, then, is my scheme--Is there
any chance of our being overheard?"
"By none except the invisibles," said Glide; "and they probably exist
only in the imagination of Yankee fanatics."
"My plan," whispered the lady, "is to put my daughter in a convent until
the gentleman to whom I have promised her, Colonel Pegram of the
Confederate army, can have an opportunity of seeing her. Of course it
would not take him five minutes to drive out of her head all thought of
this Yankee lover."
"And has your daughter, Madam, no suspicion of this admirable scheme of
yours?"
"Not the slightest. She supposes we are going to Montreal on business of
her father's."
"Madam, you couldn't have been more fortunate in your confidence. It
happens that I am on most intimate terms with Father Basil, the
confessor of the nuns, and who, by the rules of the convent, must
interrogate your daughter before she can be admitted to its privileges."
"But," said Mrs. Dinwiddie, anxiously, "will Father Basil have the
proper sympathy with my maternal motives and my Southern sentiments?
Will he be disposed to strain his authority a little in order to put my
daughter in durance?"
"I think I may venture to promise," answered Glide, "that, such is my
influence with him, he will do in the matter whatever I may request."
"How fortunate!"
"And now, Madam, you must make preparations for your departure. The cars
start in ten minutes."
Before seven o'clock that evening the whole party were comfortably
disposed in one of the best of the Montreal hotels. The obliging Mr.
Glide went forth immediately to make inquiries in Mrs. Dinwiddie's
behalf.