A Daughter of the Union Part 20

Still silent the girl trudged wearily along beside him. She was very tired and the way to the Custom-House was long. But she uttered no complaint.

Far bitterer to bear than fatigue was the thought that she, Jeanne Vance, had carried information to the enemies of her country.

The Custom-House where General Butler had established his permanent official headquarters was finally reached, and she was conducted through the court-room where Major Bell was dispensing justice to a smaller room adjoining the office of the Commander. A number of persons were in the apartment awaiting the coming of the General.

"Has the General come in yet?" asked her captor of an Orderly.

"No; but we expect him every moment. Is it anything of importance?"

"I think so. I captured a young girl who has been beyond the lines, and has returned with a package of letters from the Johnnies. The other boys gave chase to the negro woman who was with her, but this is the main one, I guess. I think the General ought to see the letters immediately."

"By all means. I will tell him as soon as he comes, so that he will attend to you at once. There are a number waiting this morning."

Faint and weary Jeanne sank into the seat a.s.signed her, and waited apathetically the summons which were to lead her to the General's presence. It came soon and she was led into the office where the General sat behind a long table on which lay a pistol.

This was the man's sole precaution against a.s.sa.s.sination, and was used only after the discovery of one or two plots to kill him. There were several of his staff with him in the room, but the girl saw only the stern face of the Commander. He gave a start of surprise as his eyes fell upon her.

"You?" he exclaimed. "Are you the girl who has been caught bringing contraband letters into the city? Child, child, I am surprised."

Jeanne's lips quivered and she turned very pale, but she only said:

"Yes, sir; I did it."

"And you are the girl who professed such devotion to the cause of your country? You, who carried the flag upon your person, and kissed it to show your patriotism? I am more than surprised! I am grieved!"

"Don't," exclaimed Jeanne, her utterance choked with sobs. "Oh, sir, I do love my country, but I am not worthy to carry its flag any longer. Take it." She drew the flag from her dress and laid it before him.

Her distress was so evident, so real that General Butler's glance softened.

"If you feel like that," he said not unkindly, "perhaps you will tell me the truth about the matter."

"Gladly," cried Jeanne eagerly. "I will tell you anything that you ask."

"These letters prove that there has been communication exchanged before.

Have you ever been on a like expedition?"

"No, sir; I do not know that you will believe me when I say that I did not know what I was doing when I went on this errand. But I did not. I would rather have died than to have given aid to the enemies of the Union; and yet I did it."

"Suppose you tell me just how it happened," suggested the General. "I will gladly hear any extenuating circ.u.mstances that you may give, for I am loth to believe that you are guilty of treachery."

With many tears Jeanne related her story. "I can never forgive myself,"

she concluded mournfully. "I deserve to be punished."

"What was in the basket that you carried over?"

"There was some medicine, quinine, I think, jellies, and other delicacies."

"There were no doc.u.ments of any kind? Think well, child."

"I did not see any, but Feliciane told me, and the rebel soldier also, that there was news of an attack to be made upon General Thompson. I am convinced that the intelligence was concealed in the false bottom of my basket. You remember where I carried the quinine, sir?" Then she told how her aunt had examined the basket and suggested its use.

"Beyond doubt it carried the information," remarked Butler. "General Thompson with his men is just beyond our lines. I have known for some time that communication had been going on between the citizens and the soldiers, and have been keeping a sharp lookout. Still they managed to elude my vigilance some way. The Vances are among the ring leaders. Why have you remained here so long?" he asked, suddenly. "Why have you not returned to your father?"

"I have not heard from him," said Jeanne, her tears flowing afresh. "In all this long time I have not heard one word."

"That is very strange!" The General looked thoughtful. "Of course in the vicinity surrounding us, and in all the country between here and Richmond the telegraphs and mails are in the hands of the Confederates.

But a letter could come safely by the sea route. I am in communication with Was.h.i.+ngton continually. There must be something wrong. Have you written to him?"

"Often and often. Uncle Ben mailed the letters for me. My aunt told me yesterday that they were going to take me home soon."

"After hoodwinking you the way she has, do you believe it? There is something here that I do not understand. I believe that you are truthful, child, and have been victimized for some purpose. I will have to watch those people more closely."

"But how could I consent to do what I have?" cried Jeanne. "Oh, I will never forgive myself."

"Older ones than you might have been deceived," comforted the General. "I have read that 'under every flower there lurks a serpent'; and where there is so much sweetness and amiability there is ground for the suspicion that the reptile will sooner or later make his appearance. You must guard against such seductive measures, my child. They are more to be feared than the most violent opposition. Your uncle has a great deal of property, has he not?"

"Why, yes," said Jeanne. "But do you know, General, that the queer part of it is that he has given it all to me?"

"Ha, ha!" roared the General. "Another attempt to evade the Confiscation Act, eh? And you did not know the reason?"

"My aunt said that you would take it from them because they were rebels, and that as I was a Unionist you would not touch it if it were mine."

"I think that I'll make that a boomerang that shall rebound on their own heads," remarked the General with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, child, what are you going to do?"

"I do not know, sir. I wish I could go home."

"Would you feel very badly if I sent you back to your uncle's?"

"Must I go there?" Jeanne uttered a cry of dismay. "I don't believe that I can, General Butler. I don't feel as if I ever wanted to see either of them again."

"But if you could help me?" suggested the General. "You might, Jeanne."

"If I could be of any service," said Jeanne bravely though every feature showed her dislike to the suggestion. "I will go."

"You are a brave little girl," said the Commander with appreciation. "I believe in you thoroughly, child, else I would not ask this of you."

"I am glad that you trust me," said Jeanne gratefully, her last fear of him vanis.h.i.+ng. "I had begun to believe that I could never trust myself again."

"Our truest strength lies in knowing our weaknesses," said the General sententiously. "Truth is written on your face, and you are earnest and thoughtful beyond your years. The thing I wish you to do is this: go back to your uncle's and conduct yourself as far as possible as you have done. I am convinced that another attempt will soon be made to carry information to Thompson. I want you to let me know when the time will be. You can find out by keeping your eyes and ears open. Show that you are indignant at the part you have been made to play for that will be expected. Send me word the moment you suspect that the attempt will be made. Can you do this?"

"I will try, General. I will do it if only to redeem myself in your eyes.

If I can find out the time I will."

"Then you may go now. I think you can understand why it is that I am so suspicious of every one, do you not, child? By the way, I found that everything was just as you said it was when you were here before. That has made it easy for you this time. Am I forgiven for the way I treated you then?"

"I forgave you long ago," said the girl sweetly. "I had been here but a short time when I realized that you must have hard work to hold these people down. And you have been good to believe me, General Butler. You are not nearly so bad as people think you are. They don't know how kind you are."

The General laughed and then sighed.

"I am afraid that there are not many who will agree with you," he said.