CHAPTER II
A GREAT UNDERTAKING
For a time affairs went on in their usual way, and the girls contentedthemselves with hemming towels and handkerchiefs and making socks. Thatis, all the girls save Jeanne Vance. With her the desire was stronger thanever to do something more than she had done.
"What makes you so thoughtful, Jeanne?" asked her father one eveninglooking up from his paper. "You are as still as a mouse. Come, and tell meall about it."
"It's the country," said Jeanne settling herself comfortably on his lapand laying her head on his shoulder. "I was thinking about our army andhow much there was to be done for it."
"I am afraid that you think too much about the war," observed her fathersoberly. "It is not good for you."
"I can't help it, father. Dick's letters make me, and the work that youand mother do keeps it always before me. I am the only one who doesn't domuch."
"I am sure that you carried that fair through admirably, and have madea number of articles for the soldiers. Best of all you are looking afteryourself so well that your mother and I can devote our whole time to thecause. And that is a great deal, my little girl."
"But I should like to do something else," persisted Jeanne. "It doesn'tseem as if I were helping one bit."
"Very few of us can see the result of our labors. If you were in thearmy it would be the same way. A soldier often has to obey orders forwhich he can see no reason, but his disobedience might cause the lossof a battle. We are all of us part of a great whole striving for thesame end. If each one does his part all will be well. If every littlegirl in the country would do as much as you are doing, the amount ofwork accomplished would be startling."
"If I were a boy I could do more," sighed Jeanne. "It is very hard to be'only a girl,' father."
Mr. Vance laughed.
"But since you are one, Jeanne, try to be contented. I am very thankfulfor my daughter if she is 'only a girl.'"
"You are troubled too," observed Jeanne presently, noting a look ofanxiety on her father's face.
"Yes, child; I am."
"Could you tell me about it, father? Perhaps it would help you. I feelever so much better since I have talked with you."
"I am afraid that you cannot help me, child. If only Dick were here," andhe sighed.
"Could I if I were a boy?" asked the girl, wistfully.
"Yes," replied Mr. Vance unthinkingly. "If you were a boy, Jeanne, withthe same amount of brightness and common sense that you now have, I wouldbe strongly tempted to send you forth on some private business."
"Oh, father!" Jeanne sat bolt upright. "Send me anyway. I am sure that Icould do it just as well as a boy."
"But this would necessitate a journey into the enemy's country. A brightboy could go through all right if he would exercise his wits, but atender, delicate girl like you! Why, I couldn't think of it!"
"I could do just as well as a boy," declared Jeanne with conviction. "Iam sure that I could. Please let me try, father."
"I am sorry that I spoke of it, child. I will tell you just what theservice is, and you will see the impossibility of any girl undertakingit. In the cities both North and South there are men whose duty it isto look after certain private matters for the government. In ourcommunications with each other we must be very guarded. We do not dareto risk even the mails, because in almost every department of theservice there are traitors. In some mysterious manner the enemy becomesaware of all our plans. Therefore we have tried and trusted men who areour go betweens. On some occasions we have employed boys because theycould pass through the lines of the armies without being suspected ofcarrying important information. But as it is a hazardous business we usethe boys only when there is no one else to send. Just at present ourmen are all out, and even the few boys who are ordinarily available arenot on hand. That is why I spoke as I did."
"Where would the boy have to go?" queried Jeanne, who had listenedattentively.
"To New Orleans, dear. It is a long distance, and would be a perilousjourney. You see, Jeanne, how I am trusting you. You will be careful notto repeat anything I say."
"I understand perfectly, father. You need not fear when you tell meanything. You could not be useful if others knew of your affairs."
"That is it precisely, my daughter."
"Is the errand important, father?"
"Very." Mr. Vance thought she saw the impossibility of going and thereforespoke more freely than he otherwise would have done. "I ought to send amessenger not later than day after to-morrow with the documents, but Ifear that I shall have to let the matter rest until some of the men comein, and then it may be too late."
"Father, doesn't Uncle Ben live in New Orleans?"
"Yes, Jeanne; why?"
"Why couldn't I go down to see him, and carry these papers hidden aboutme? The trains are still running, aren't they?"
"Yes," said her father thoughtfully; "but those in the Southern Statesare under Confederate control, you know."
"Well, suppose I were to take the train from here to St. Louis," mappingthe route on her lap, "then from there I could go down the Mississippion a steamboat. St. Louis is for the Union, and New Orleans belongs to usnow too. I don't see much danger in that, father."
"It sounds all right, little girl. The only flaw lies in the fact thatVicksburg is not ours. If it were then the matter could be easilyarranged."
"Don't you think that it will be ours soon, father?"
"Yes, indeed," replied Mr. Vance with conviction. "With Farragut andPorter on the river and this new man Grant who is making such a recordin charge of the land forces it will not be long before Vicksburg willshare the fate of Forts Henry and Donelson and Island No. 10. Indeed,"added he, for Mr. Vance in common with many others held the view thatthe war could not be of long duration, "I feel sure that McClellan willsoon enter Richmond and that will virtually close the war. It is only aquestion of days now before we shall see the end of this rebellion. Theadministration is of the same opinion, because it has ceased to enlistmen for the army."
"Then, father, it seems to me that there would be no risk in performingthis service for you. I feel sure that I could carry your papers safelyto New Orleans. It is not as if the country all belonged to the rebels.There would be only one place to pass that is theirs: Vicksburg. I knowthat our men can easily go by one place," she added confidently.
"Your manner of taking hold of the matter almost persuades me to let youtry it, Jeanne," and Mr. Vance regarded his daughter with a new light inhis eyes.
"Do," said Jeanne as calmly as she could, realizing that if she wouldcarry her point she must be very matter-of-fact. "You see, father, noone would suspect a girl of carrying papers."
"I don't know but that you are right, Jeanne. Still, I would not considerthe thing for an instant if my need were not so great. Should the papersfall into the rebels' hands, not only would they secure importantinformation but they would also get the names of men whose death wouldpay the penalty of discovery."
"I understand," said the girl gravely. "But the rebels shall never getthem, father. I will destroy them first. They must be concealed about myclothing in such a manner that even if I were searched they could not bediscovered. Not that I think that I shall be," she added hastily as a lookof alarm flitted over her father's face, "but it is just as well to beprepared for emergencies."
"What are you two plotting?" asked Mrs. Vance entering the room. "Youhave been talking so earnestly that I thought that you were settling theaffairs of the nation."
"We have been," answered Jeanne gaily. "I am going to New Orleans onbusiness for father."
"Oh, Richard," came from Mrs. Vance in a wailing cry. "Not my girl too!I have given my boy! Leave me my daughter."
"Mother!" Jeanne sprang to her outstretched arms where she was foldedclose to the mother's heart. "You don't understand. There is no danger.Who would harm a girl like me?"
"She shall not go, Dora, if you do not consent," spoke Mr. Vancecomfortingly. "My need for a messenge
r was so urgent that I spoke ofit before Jeanne, and the little witch has beguiled me into thinking thatshe is the very one for the business."
"Why of course I am," cried Jeanne in decided tones. "Let's sit down andtalk it over."
"I don't like it," said Mrs. Vance after the matter had been explained."I am afraid that something will happen to you."
"But, mother, what could happen? Even if I were to fall into the hands ofthe Confederates what could they do to me? Men don't make war on girls."
"I know that the Southern people are counted chivalrous," answered Mrs.Vance, "but soldiers are usually rough fellows, and I would not like youto be brought into contact with them even though they were our own boys."
"Dick is a soldier, and he isn't a bit rough. They are all somebody'ssons, mother. I thought that you liked soldiers."
"I do," assented Mrs. Vance wearily, "but I don't like the thought ofsending you where there is a chance of fighting. No one knows what mighthappen."
"Dick has to take a great many chances, and why should not I risk a littlefor my country? Wouldn't you be willing to give your life for it, mother?"
"Yes; but----" began the mother.
"And I am your child," cried Jeanne, kissing her. "I can't help it,mother. It's in the blood, and blood will tell, you know. Haven't I heardyou and father many a time relate what great things our ancestors didin the Revolution? Well, you really can't expect anything else fromtheir descendants."
"I suppose not," and Mrs. Vance stifled a sigh. "If it really would helpyou, Richard."
"It really would, Dora. If Jeanne can carry these papers to New Orleansshe is not only worth her weight in gold but she will do the governmenta great service. She is energetic, resourceful and self-reliant. Ibelieve that she can get through without injury to herself or I shouldnot consider the thing a moment. As she says, why should harm come toa girl? She would not be suspected where older people would be subjectedto the most searching scrutiny. The more that I think of it, the morefavorably does the idea strike me."
"Then I must consent," Mrs. Vance smiled faintly though her face was verywhite. "My country demands much of me, Richard."
"It does, Dora. But please God when this rebellion is put down we shallhave such peace as the country has never enjoyed. Let us hope for thebest, dear."
"When do I start, father?" broke in Jeanne.
"I think to-morrow night. The sooner the better. I will see about yourtransportation in the morning, and try to arrange to send you straightthrough. Now, little girl, you must say good-night because we must be upbright and early. There is a great deal to be done to-morrow."
"Good-night," said Jeanne obediently, and kissing each tenderly sheretired to her room.