A TIMELY RENEWAL OF ACQUAINTANCE
Jeanne sobbed unrestrainedly for some time. A sense of forlornness
oppressed her, and the magnitude of the task she had undertaken weighed
upon her spirits. As Mr. Vance had said she had never traveled alone
before, and now that she had actually started upon the journey a
thousand fears assailed her. The idea of being engaged upon a mission
that involved something of risk had seemed a noble thing, and easy of
accomplishment in her own home. Here, lacking the sustaining presence of
her parents, and the relaxation after the excitement of the day, made
the enterprise seem formidable indeed. So absorbed was she in her
meditations that she had not noticed the other occupants of the coach,
but presently there was borne in upon her senses the sound of singing.
"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed with a nervous start.
"Some soldiers on their way to Washington," answered a lady who sat behind
her.
Jeanne's interest was aroused at once, and she looked about her. In the
rear of the car were a number of soldiers clad in blue. They seemed in
high spirits and were singing lustily:
"'Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys,
We'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom;
We will rally from the hillside,
We will rally from the plain,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'"
"They are going to the war with a song upon their lips, perhaps to be
killed, while I am afraid because I am alone," mused Jeanne, her lip
curling in self-contempt. "I don't believe that girls amount to much after
all."
"'We are marching to the field, boys,
Going to the fight,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
And we'll bear the glorious Stars
Of the Union and the Right,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'"
"I will be brave," and the girl sat up very straight. "I will not be
afraid any more, for I, too, am battling for the right. I am just as truly
serving my country as they are, and I will be just as brave. Besides,
father would be sorry if he knew that I felt so bad."
Drying her eyes she listened attentively to the soldiers as they sang,
one after another, the martial airs that had become so popular since the
breaking out of the war. After a little time they struck up "The Star
Spangled Banner," and then there followed a scene that the girl never
forgot. Men, women and children caught the enthusiasm and, rising to their
feet, joined in the song. Jeanne sang too, as she had never sung before.
The words held a new meaning for her. She felt once more an exaltation
of spirit and a kinship with these brave fellows who were willing to give
their lives for their country. What was danger, disease or life itself,
if she could be of service in ever so small a way?
"''Tis the Star Spangled Banner,
O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free
And the home of the brave.'"
A mighty shout went up as the final chorus was rendered, and three cheers
for the flag were given with a vim that mingled musically with the rush
and roar of the train. Flushed and breathless Jeanne sank back into her
seat, her eyes shining, her cheeks glowing, her whole being thrilled with
patriotic fervor. She was no longer fearful and lonely, but eager and
ready to do and dare all things needful for the success of her mission.
And so when Washington was reached the girl took up her satchel with quite
the air of an old traveler and, accosting an official, asked about her
train with the utmost self-possession.
She had but a short time to wait before she was once more flying across
the country en route for Cincinnati. The night passed without incident.
The journey was tiresome but so uneventful that she became imbued with
confidence in her ability to travel alone and made her change to the
Memphis and Charleston Railroad for Memphis at Cincinnati without trouble.
The day had been very warm and as Jeanne took her seat in the coach she
heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the sun sinking to his rest.
"It will be cooler now," she said to herself, settling comfortably back
in the cushions. "I am glad that I have the seat to myself."
But to her dismay at the next station a rough-looking man entered the car
and took possession of the seat beside her. The girl looked intently out
of the window, after her first glance at the fellow, inwardly hoping that
his journey would not be a long one. For some time the man did not pay
any attention to her, then he turned abruptly and said:
"Do you want that window down?"
"No; thank you," returned Jeanne adopting the manner she had seen her
mother use towards people of whom she did not approve.
The man eyed her narrowly, but the girl preserved her composure under his
scrutiny.
"What's yer got in yer basket?" he demanded presently.
A look of indignation flashed over Jeanne's face. She opened her lips to
reply. "None of your business," as some of the girls she knew would have
done, but something that her mother had once said came into her mind just
as she was about to make the retort.
"My dear," her mother had said, "no matter how rudely others may behave,
be a lady. Because some one else has been impolite does not excuse it in
you."
As this came to Jeanne she closed her lips resolutely and, turning her
back very decidedly, looked out of the window.
"Yer needn't put on any of yer airs with me," growled the fellow, who was
evidently in a surly humor. "Can't yer answer a civil question?"
Still Jeanne made no reply, and the man reached out to take hold of her
basket. But the girl was too quick for him, and lifting it into her lap
held on to it tightly while she placed her feet upon her satchel.
"Yer needn't be so spunky," said the fellow sheepishly. "I jest wanted
to see if yer didn't have somethin' to eat."
"If you are hungry, you should have said so," said Jeanne, relaxing
instantly, for her warm heart was always open to appeals of this nature.
She opened her basket and took out some dainty sandwiches. "You are
quite welcome to what you wish to eat," she said graciously, "but you
were not very nice about asking for it."
"A feller don't stop fer manners," said the man nibbling at the sandwiches
gingerly, "when he's as hungry as I am. Is that all ye've got in there?"
"I have some more lunch," said Jeanne rather indignantly, for the fellow
did not seem very ravenous for a hungry man. "I shall keep that for the
rest of my journey."
"Whar yer goin'? Ain't yer got nobody with yer?" queried the man a gleam
coming into his eyes.
"Don't you think that you are rather inquisitive?" questioned Jeanne
boldly. "Why should you want to know where I am going?"
"Because folks have to be keerful in times like these," said the other
brusquely. "Haven't yer got some money too?"
"I have none to give you," answered Jeanne. "And I would rather that you
would not sit by me any longer. Will you please go away?"
"Not if I knows myself and I think I do," laughed the man. "See here! I'll
go away if you will give me your purse. I know that it's in that there
basket. You take too much care of it fer it only ter hold yer food. Now
give it to me quick."
"I won't," said Jeanne determinedly clinging to the basket, for she had
put her purse there after buying some fruit. "If you touch this basket
I'll scream and the people will know what you are doing."
"Pooh! I'll tell them that you are my crazy sister that I'm taking to an
asylum," said the fellow easily. "Now you'd better give me that money."
"People would know that I was not your sister," exclaimed the girl
scornfully. "You don't look in the least like my brother. Now, sir, go
away."
"Not without that money. Sit down," he commanded gruffly as the girl half
rose from her seat.
Jeanne cast a wild, imploring look about her for help and sank back in her
seat despairingly, for the passengers seemed intent upon other concerns,
and the noise of the train prevented the conversation from being overheard.
"Are you going to hand out that money?"
"Ye-es," faltered Jeanne, reaching for her purse.
"What do you mean by frightening this girl?" demanded a voice, and a hand
was laid upon the ruffian's shoulder. "Get out of my seat, you rascal,
or I'll have you thrown off the car."
A cry of delight escaped Jeanne's lips as she saw that the man who
had come to her assistance was the old gentleman who had bought the
handkerchiefs from her during the fair.
"I--I did not mean any harm," stammered the fellow, resigning the seat
with alacrity. "I was jest trying ter scare the girl a little."
"Well, let me catch you 'jest trying ter scare her,' any more, and it will
be the worse for you," cried the old gentleman threateningly. "Now clear
out, and let me see no more of you."
The fellow slunk off and her friend in need took the seat by Jeanne's side.
"That fellow was annoying you terribly, was he not?"
"Yes, sir; I was very much frightened, especially when he demanded my
money."
"What! Did he do that? Why the scamp! This is worse than I thought. I'll
get the conductor after him."
"Oh, let him go," pleaded Jeanne, who was quite a little upset by the
episode. "Please stay with me."
"Very well." The old man saw her nervousness and acquiesced willingly.
"He can't get off the train so long as this rate of speed is kept up, and
I'll see about getting him later. Now tell me all about it."
Jeanne gave him a succinct account of what the man had said and done.
"And I was so glad when you came up as you did," she said in finishing.
"But I did not expect to see you here, sir, and I thank you so much for
your assistance."
"Tut, tut! It is every American's duty to look after women folks when
they travel alone. I had just come from the smoker and saw as I entered
the door that something was wrong. As the ruffian had my seat I came up
at once and demanded it of him. But you are not more surprised to see me
than I was to recognize the little patriot of the handkerchiefs. Aren't
you a long way from home?"
"Yes, sir; I am, but I am going to visit my Uncle Ben in New Orleans."
"Rather a troublesome time for a visit," remarked the other musingly. Then
as a deep flush suffused the girl's cheek, he added keenly, "I know that
there are sometimes reasons why visits should be made even though the
times be perilous. There! I am not going to ask any questions, so don't
look at me like that. My name is Emanuel Huntsworth, and I live near
Corinth, Mississippi. I was formerly a New Englander but settled in the
South a number of years ago. My Union sentiments having made me obnoxious
to my neighbors I feared for the safety of my family and am returning
from moving them North. I am going back now to wind up my business,
when I shall go North once more to do what I can for the government. If
you have no friends with you, perhaps you have no objections to my company
as far as our ways lie together."
"I should be pleased to be with you," said Jeanne sweetly. "I am all
alone, Mr. Huntsworth. My name is Jeanne Vance, and I live in New York
City. I was all right until I got on this train, but now I can't help
but be a little uneasy since that man acted so."
"The rascal! I had forgotten him. Conductor," as that individual came by.
"I think there is a man on this train that will bear watching." Thereupon
he related the incident to the official.
"I will look after the fellow," said the conductor.
But search failed to reveal the presence of the man on the train and soon
Mr. Huntsworth and Jeanne were convinced that, fearing the consequences
of his actions, he had jumped from the train.