She laid her hand upon his.

“And did you think I would care, dear?” she asked gently.  “I can bear with poverty and rags, to win this war.”

“His own eyes were dim, but pride shone in them.  Jackson came in on tiptoe, and hesitated.  At the Colonel’s motion he took away the china and the silver, and removed the white cloth, and turned low the lights in the chandelier.  He went out softly, and closed the door.

“Pa,” said Virginia, presently, “do you trust Mr. Hopper?”

The Colonel gave a start.

“Why, yes, Jinny.  He improved the business greatly before this trouble came.  And even now we are not in such straits as some other houses.”

“Captain Lige doesn’t like him.”

“Lige has prejudices.”

“So have I,” said Virginia.  “Eliphalet Hopper will serve you so long as he serves himself.  No longer.”

“I think you do him an injustice, my dear,” answered the Colonel.  But uneasiness was in his voice.  “Hopper is hard working, scrupulous to a cent.  He owns two slaves now who are running the river.  He keeps out of politics, and he has none of the Yankee faults.”

“I wish he had,” said Virginia.

The Colonel made no answer to this.  Getting up, he went over to the bell-cord at the door and pulled it.  Jackson came in hurriedly.

“Is my bag packed?”

“Yes, Marsa.”

“Where are you going?” cried Virginia, in alarm.

“To Jefferson City, dear, to see the Governor.  I got word this afternoon.”

“In the rain?”

He smiled, and stooped to kiss her.

“Yes,” he answered, “in the rain as far as the depot, I can trust you,
Jinny.  And Lige’s boat will be back from New Orleans to-morrow or
Sunday.”

The next morning the city awoke benumbed, her heart beating but feebly.  Her commerce had nearly ceased to flow.  A long line of boats lay idle, with noses to the levee.  Men stood on the street corners in the rain, reading of the capture of Camp Jackson, and of the riot, and thousands lifted up their voices to execrate the Foreign City below Market Street.  A vague terror, maliciously born, subtly spread.  The Dutch had broken up the camp, a peaceable state institution, they had shot down innocent women and children.  What might they not do to the defenceless city under their victorious hand, whose citizens were nobly loyal to the South?  Sack it?  Yes, and burn, and loot it.  Ladies who ventured out that day crossed the street to avoid Union gentlemen of their acquaintance.

It was early when Mammy Easter brought the news paper to her mistress.  Virginia read the news, and ran joyfully to her aunt’s room.  Three times she knocked, and then she heard a cry within.  Then the key was turned and the bolt cautiously withdrawn, and a crack of six inches disclosed her aunt.

“Oh, how you frightened me, Jinny!” she cried.  “I thought it was the Dutch coming to murder us all, What have they done to Clarence?”