Early next morning the doctor appeared at my bedside.  Meantime a change had come over me.  I seemed to have lost the nervous excitability of a girl and to have become a woman, full of courage and hope.  Dr. ——­ regarded me steadily for a moment; then,—­“Ah! better this morning?  That’s my brave girl.”  Meeting his gaze fully, I replied, “I shall try henceforth to be brave, as befits the wife of a soldier.”  A frown appeared upon the doctor’s brow.  Tenderly placing his hand upon my head, he said, “My child, I fear your courage will soon be put to the test.  Your own imprudence has greatly incensed the town people.  Danger menaces you, and through you, your mother.  Fortunately, the friends of your childhood still desire to protect you; but your only safety lies in giving up the rebel flag which it is said you possess.  Give it to me, Fannie, and I will destroy it before their eyes, and thus avert the threatened danger.”  I only smiled, as I replied:  “Dr. ——­, since the rebel flag has existed, I have cherished it in my heart of hearts.  You may search the house over; you will find no flag but the one I have here,” placing my hand on my heart.  The good man had known me from childhood, and he could not doubt me.  He questioned no further, but took his leave, promising to use his influence with the incensed villagers.  They, however, were not so easily convinced.  They had been wrought up to a state of frenzied patriotism, and declared they would search the house where the obnoxious flag was supposed to be.  Dire threats of vengeance were heard on every side.  At last a committee was appointed to wait upon “the traitress” and again demand the surrender of the flag.  It was composed of gentlemen who, though thorough and uncompromising “Union men,” were yet well known to me, and were anxious, if possible, to shield me.  They were admitted to the room, where I calmly awaited them.  I reiterated the assertion made to the doctor, so calmly, and with such apparent truth, that they were staggered.  But they had come to perform a duty, and they meant to succeed.  They convinced me that the danger to myself and to the house of my mother was real and imminent, but I only repeated my assertions, though my heart throbbed painfully as I saw the anxiety and trouble in mother’s face.  Suddenly I remembered that I had in my possession a paper which, just before all mail communication had ceased between the North and South, had been sent to me for the purpose of protection.  It was simply a certificate of my husband’s membership and good standing in a Masonic lodge, and had a seal affixed.  As I called for the portfolio, all eyes brightened with expectation of seeing at last the “rebel flag.”  Drawing forth from its envelope the fateful document, I said, “I was told to use this only in dire extremity; it seems to me that such a time is at hand.  If there be any virtue in Masonry, let it now protect me and the roof which is at present my only shelter!”