was dare, suah, ’case we dun seed ’em.”  All able-bodied men had long ago gone to the front.  The “home-guard,” who were doing their best to keep watch and ward over helpless women and children, were only boys, full of ardor and courage, but too young to join the army, or men who from age or disability were also ineligible.  These knew every inch of ground, every hiding-place for many miles.  At every plantation they were expected and welcome, whenever they could find an opportunity to dash in, dismount, report the state of matters outside, and hastily swallow the “snack” always kept ready and set before them without loss of time, quite as a matter of course.

The news brought by these scouts, far from quieting apprehension, tended to increase and deepen it.  The old man who, time out of mind, had managed the little ferry fifteen miles away, had been shot for refusing to ferry over some Federal soldiers.  The bright light so anxiously watched one dark night proved to have been a fire, which had consumed the dwelling, gin-house, stables, etc., of a widowed cousin.  Her cows had been slaughtered, her horses stolen, her garden and “truck-patch” ploughed all over in the search for hidden silver.  Other and even more hideous tales (alas! too true) appalled the hearts and tried the courage of the women, who yet must never give up trying to protect the interests confided to them, must seem to hold the reins of power when really they were at the mercy of the negroes, who (to their credit be it spoken) behaved under these trying circumstances extremely well, in some cases showing the most affectionate solicitude and sympathy.  They could not, however, in all cases be trusted to withstand the bribes sure to be offered for information as to hiding-places of valuables.  So, little by little, silver and jewelry were made up into small packages to be disposed of secretly.

For several days all were on the qui vive.  The fearful suspense, dread, and anguish of that time will never be forgotten by those who shared those anxious vigils; from earliest light until nightfall, restless feet traversed the house and yard, anxious eyes watched every possible approach,—­the road, the woods, the plantation.  At night, not one of the “white folks” thought of undressing; the very last of a bag of real coffee, which had been treasured like gold, was now brought out.  During the day, the usual sweet-potato coffee was served.  In the cool April nights, a cheerful fire always blazed in the open fireplace of the parlor, by it was set a pot of very strong coffee, upon which the ladies relied to keep them awake.  One at a time would doze in her chair or upon the sofa, while the others kept watch, walking from window to window, listening at the fast-locked door, starting at every sound.  Occasionally the dogs would bark furiously:  “There they are!” cried everybody, and rising to their feet, with bated breath and wildly-beating hearts,