"How dare you open and read my letter, sir!" she cried with indignation.
"I'm sorry, Miss," he answered politely. "We're only soldiers. Our
business is to obey orders."
Jennie blushed furiously.
"Of course, I beg your pardon. I wasn't thinking when I spoke."
She read the letter with eager interest:
"Dearest little Sister:
"You must bring grandmother to New Orleans at the earliest possible
opportunity. Grandpa can't get out. He is as restless and unhappy as
a caged tiger. Do come quickly. If you need money let me know. Hoping
soon to see you. With a heart full of love,
"Your big brother,
"Roger."
It would be best. Her grandmother would be safe there in any event. If
our troops again captured New Orleans she would be in the house of the
South. If the Federal army still held it, she was at home in her
grandson's house.
The wildest rumors were flying thick. No passes would be issued to leave
the city on any pretext. Beauregard was reported about to move his army
from Corinth to attack Baton Rouge.
The troops were massing for the defense of the city. The Federal cavalry
had scoured the country for ten miles in search of guerillas.
Through all the turmoil and confusion of the wildly disordered house
Jennie kept repeating the foolish old hymn in soft monotones:
"_I hope to die shouting--the Lord will provide!_"
General Williams sent a guard to protect the house.
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