STARTING FOR DIXIE
The next day passed all too quickly for the parents, but not for Jeanne.
She went about her preparations with an uplifted mien and a solemnity of
manner that at another time would have been amusing, but which under the
circumstances went to her mother's heart.
"In this petticoat, dear, I have quilted the documents," said Mrs. Vance
as she dressed her for her departure. "It may be a little heavy, but
you need not wear so many skirts as you otherwise would, and perhaps it
will not be too warm. See how nicely it holds out your dress. It almost
answers the purpose of a pair of hoops."
"Am I not to wear my hoops, mother?"
"No, child. They are sometimes in the way, and as you have not yet learned
to manage them well, it would be best not. Your frock hangs out in quite
the approved style as it is."
Jeanne glanced down at her attire complacently.
"It does look stylish," she admitted. "I wonder if the rebel girls wear
hoops."
"I dare say they do," answered the mother rather absently. Then overcome
by a rush of emotion she caught the girl to her. "Oh, Jeanne, I wonder
if I am doing right to let you go! What if some harm should come to you?"
"Don't worry, mother," and Jeanne soothed her gently. "I feel sure that I
will get through safely."
"I shall not be easy until I hold you in my arms again," said Mrs. Vance
mournfully. "But I must not make it hard for you to go, dear. You will
be careful, Jeanne."
"Yes, mother."
"And, child, you are loyal, I know, but you are very young. You are going
into the enemy's country, where disloyalty to the Union will be the
common utterance. Are you strong enough to bear all that you will hear and
still retain that fidelity unimpaired?"
"Mother!" Jeanne spoke reproachfully.
"Yes; I know that your heart is devoted to your country, but older ones
than you have been drawn from their allegiance. I only give this as a
caution because you have always been where nothing but the Union has been
talked. Now you are apt to hear just as much on the other side, and there
may be trials that will test your strength severely. I cannot but fear
that all will not go so smoothly as your father thinks. But, Jeanne,
whatever comes, bear yourself as a true American. Swerve not from the
allegiance due to your country. Let come what will, even death itself,
suffer it rather than for one moment to be false to your country. They
are my last words to you, my daughter. Be true to your country. Will you
remember?"
"Yes," replied the girl solemnly. "Whatever comes I will be true to my
country."
"I have made you this flag," continued Mrs. Vance, drawing a small United
States flag from the folds of her dress. "I began it some time ago as
a surprise for your birthday, but finished it last night for you to take
with you. Keep it about your person, and each night look upon it and pray
for the success of the Union."
"And it is really my own," exclaimed Jeanne, delightedly, pressing the
silken folds to her lips. "It makes me so happy to have it, mother. I
never had one before that was all mine. See," folding it and placing it in
the bosom of her dress, "I will wear it over my heart that no disloyal
thought may find entrance there. I will bring it back to you unsullied."
Her mother pressed her again to her breast.
"I believe it, dear. Now kiss me, Jeanne. I hear your father coming for
you. Oh, 'tis hard to let you go!" She clasped her convulsively to her,
and caressed her repeatedly.
"Are you ready, Jeanne?" asked Mr. Vance entering. "We have not much time
left."
"I am all ready, father," answered Jeanne quickly catching up her satchel.
"Aren't you coming with us, mother?"
"No, dear;" Mrs. Vance struggled bravely with her emotion. "I am going
to let your father have you for the last few moments alone. I have had you
all day, you know."
Jeanne ran back to her for another embrace.
"My child! My child!" whispered the mother passionately. "There! Go while
I can bear it."
Unable to speak Jeanne followed her father to the carriage.
"I am afraid that I have acted hastily in letting you undertake this
matter," said her father, drawing her to him. "In one way the fates are
propitious. The papers to-day announce the fall of Vicksburg. That leaves
the Mississippi entirely open and reduces the danger. Still it may be
exposing you to some risk, and it now seems to me unwise to saddle so
great a responsibility upon so young a girl. I wish there was some one
else to send."
"Father, I am glad to be of service. I am so proud to think that you have
so trusted me. Now I am really doing something for the country. And I will
not betray your trust."
"I know that you will be as true as steel," answered Mr. Vance tenderly.
"I do not fear that you will betray my confidence, but let me caution you
for yourself. Where have you concealed the papers?"
"Mother quilted them in my petticoat," answered Jeanne.
"Then try to forget where they are. I was once on the train where a girl
was traveling alone. She had evidently been warned against pickpockets,
for ever and anon she would start up and clap her hand to her pocket. Do
you see the point, daughter?"
"It showed plainly where she kept her money," replied Jeanne promptly.
"Exactly. If you keep fingering the petticoat it will show to every
one that there is something concealed there. Therefore forget all about
the papers if you can. Act as naturally as a little girl would going
to visit her uncle. There must of course be a reason for your going and I
have provided for that in this way. Quinine is a contraband article
and highly prized in the South. This basket has a false bottom. Above
is a lunch for your journey and underneath a quantity of quinine. You
may get through without falling into the Confederates' hands but it
is just as well to be prepared for emergencies, as you remarked last
night. Should you happen to be taken by them and they question you too
closely, finally confess about the quinine. It will be a point in your
favor that you have smuggled it through the Union lines. Should they
take it no matter. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly."
"I have secured transportation to Memphis, Tennessee," continued Mr.
Vance. "It brings you closer to New Orleans and leaves a shorter distance
to be traversed by water. You will have to change cars twice. Once at
Washington City which you can do easily as you have been there a number
of times. The other is at Cincinnati, Ohio. Do you think you can manage
it?"
"Why, of course I can," said Jeanne proudly. "It isn't as if I had never
been anywhere."
"Yes, that makes a difference," assented her father. "Yet, my child,
remember that before you have been accompanied by either your mother or
me. Now you will have to rely entirely upon yourself. This is a letter
for Commodore Porter who is a friend of mine, and who is somewhere on
the Mississippi. Ask for him as soon as you reach Memphis. If he is not
there there will be others on our side who will carry you down the river
after reading the letter. If at any time you are in doubt what to do
go to the hospitals. There are always women there who will gladly give
whatever aid you may need. And here is money."
"Mother gave me some," interrupted Jeanne who had listened with the
closest attention.
"Yes; that is in your purse, which is in the satchel, is it not?"
"Yes."
"Well, take this also. I had this bag made to hold it." He put a roll of
bills into an oilskin bag and drew the cord so that the opening closed
tightly together. "Wear that about your neck, child, and keep it hidden
under your dress," he said. "Keep that always about you as a reserve fund.
So long as you have money you can get along pretty well. Take out what
you need from time to time, carrying only a small amount in your purse.
Above all beware of talking too freely to strangers. Now for the final
instructions: you are going to New Orleans to visit your Uncle Ben. When
you reach there ask him to direct you to Mr. ------," here he whispered
in her ear. "Speak that name to no person. When you have delivered the
papers into his hands your duty is done. Stay with your uncle until you
hear from me. I will write you how to come home. Now, Jeanne, I think
that this is all I have to say. If anything should happen that these
arrangements fail, don't run any danger but return home. You see that I
am leaving a great deal to your judgment. Can you remember everything
that I have said?"
"Yes. And you may be sure that I will do just as you tell me. It seems
to me that everything has been thought of and that there is no chance of
failing."
"Sometimes the best laid plans are thwarted," said her father gravely. "It
may not be a very wise thing to send my daughter on such an errand, but
you are such a sensible little thing that I feel as if you would succeed."
"I will," said Jeanne determinedly. "I want to be worthy of my name,
father. Did not another Jeanne not much older than I lead the Dauphin of
France to a crown? Surely then I can do this thing which is small in
comparison."
"I am afraid we did wrong in giving you such a name," remarked her father
smilingly. "How full of the martial spirit you are, Jeanne. I believe
that you would undertake the capture of Jeff Davis if I asked you to."
"I would," exclaimed the girl with a look that boded ill for the rebel
president. "Perhaps we will try it yet."
"We will get through this affair first, my dear. Here we are at the
station. We'll have to make a run for that train."
They had taken a ferry during the conversation and by this time had
reached Jersey City. Running through the gates they boarded the train
just as the signal was given to pull out.
"My little girl, good-bye," murmured Mr. Vance, clasping her to him for a
brief second. "God bless and keep you, Jeanne. May He bring you safely
back. Be brave," he added, as he saw Jeanne's lips quivering.
"I will," sobbed Jeanne, breaking down completely as her father started
away. "Oh, father, kiss me just once more."
"Is it too much for you, my little girl?" Mr. Vance held her closely. "You
need not go, Jeanne."
"I want to. I am all right," gasped Jeanne, controlling herself by an
effort. "Now go, father, dear. See how brave I am."
She smiled up at him through her tears. Mr. Vance regarded her anxiously.
"Go," whispered Jeanne as the train began to move. Hastily her father
left her. Jeanne leaned from the window and waved her hand as long as she
could see him. But soon the train rounded a curve and he was lost to view.
Then leaning back in her seat she gave herself up to her tears.