The others had gone to bed, certain that the
rumors were false. She had somehow felt the certainty of the crash.
Seated beside the brick coping of the roof she leaned the strong little
chin in her hands, waited and watched. Lights were flickering around the
shore batteries like fireflies winking in the shadows of deep woods. Her
three brothers were there. She might look on their dead faces to-morrow.
Her father had rushed to Charleston from Washington at the first news of
the sailing of the fleet. He had begged and pleaded with General
Beauregard to reduce the Fort immediately, with or without orders from
Davis.
"For God's sake, use your discretion as Commanding General and open
fire. If that fleet reaches Sumter the cause of the Confederacy is lost.
Old Davis is too slow. He's still crying peace, peace, when there is no
peace. The war has begun!"
The General calmly shook his head and asked for instructions.
Besides losing her brothers, she might be an orphan to-morrow. Her
father was quite capable of an attack on Sumter without orders. And if
the bombardment should begin he would probably be roaming over the
harbor from fort to fort, superintending the job under the guns of both
sides.
"If Anderson does not accept the terms of surrender offered he will be
fired on at four o'clock.
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