“What night was that, by the way?”
“Why last Monday night, of course.”
“Oh, certainly—yes! I recollect Miss Elfie’s naming the day.”
“It is a day to be remembered in the annals of my domestic life. Myself and my girl sat up and watched. But, for all that, I did not believe that our own old neighbors would pull the house down over our heads, merely because we were loyal to the old Union and the old flag. But what will not maniacs do? Myself and my brave girl watched until near daybreak, when, thinking that all was right for the time being, and that we would not have an attack that night, we separated, and went to bed, to get an hour or two of repose before breakfast. I had been some time asleep when I was rudely awakened by a terrific yell—such a yell as a hand of painted savages, armed with firebrands and tomahawks, might roar forth in surprising a peaceful home.
“I sprang up and rushed to the window and threw up the sash and looked out. The eastern horizon was quite red, and by its light I saw a crowd of men armed with guns, pistols, swords, pitchforks and a variety of weapons, gathered around the house. As I bent out to look down, I saw a quantity of straw, shavings and dry brushwood piled around the posts that supported the porch. The moment they saw me they saluted me with a perfect howl of rage.
“‘Come out of that, you——’ Here followed a volley of profane and indecent imprecations and vituperations—‘come out of that house with your devil’s imp of a daughter, unless you wish to be burned alive inside of it!’
“Before I could reply, my brave girl, who had heard the row, was by my side. She put a gun into my hand and said:
“‘Pap, I have called up Ned, and he can do good service. Now you take this gun, and fire into them from this window, and I will fire from the other. And we’ll keep it up as long as the ammunition lasts; and then we’ll die game, pap!’
“I turned to answer my girl, to tell her not to show herself at the other window—to be careful; but she was gone—she was already before the other window, and training the gun so that its muzzle should be in a line with the crowd below. I did the same at my window. We fired at the same moment, and our fire was answered by a roar of rage and a discharge of musketry. The shots rattled against the front of the house, and shivered the windows, shutters and sashes. I trembled for my girl.
“‘Elfie, for Heaven’s sake, leave the window! fall flat upon the floor,’ I said.