Oh! joy! joy! joy! Deliverance at last? The street was filled with a procession of dark figures, but these figures wore the blue uniform of the United States soldiers! She recognized them. Her regiment had stood beside them on many a well-fought field, and last of all at Cold Harbor, where she had been taken prisoner! They were a detachment of the colored soldiers forming Weitzel’s Division of the gallant Ninth Corps.
And they were about to open her prison doors!
Now, while they halted in the middle of the street in front of the prison, they were hailed and welcomed with tears and praises by the colored population that filled the sidewalk.
They were officered by young white men; one of those attracted Britomarte’s especial attention. He was a gallant little fellow, full of fire, spirit and vivacity. He was mounted on a fine horse, and rode hither and thither, maintaining order among his excited soldiers and their overjoyed friends.
Britomarte knew him, or had known him, as little Mim, and he had known and admired her but only as Miss Conyers. Afterwards, when she was known as Captain Wing, and he as Private Mim, she had recognized him again, but he had not identified her in her new character. At the battle of Cold Harbor, where she had been taken prisoner, he had still been a private. Now, however, he wore the uniform of a commissioned officer, though of what grade she could not, from her point of view, determine.
She seized the bars of her grated window, and shook and rattled them; she put her wasted hand through, them and waved it; she called and shouted, but her voice was weak, and the din below was deafening; so that she failed to attract attention until Major Mim, happening to look up, saw the wasted hand waving through the grated window. He did not recognize Miss Conyers then, but he saw that the pale hand belonged to an imprisoned woman, and that was quite enough to fire the blood of such a devoted “squire of dames” as Major Mim.
He had been just on the point of opening the prison doors to release such of our people as he might happen to find there, this being his appointed duty on the premises, but now he hurried his movements.
Calling to four or five subordinate officers to follow him, he entered the prison. There were none to resist him. The guards had run away hours before.
Britomarte, in her cell, heard the rushing footsteps of her deliverers. They spread themselves throughout all the lobbies of the prison.
But the squad led by little Mim came hurrying towards her door, and paused in much excitement before it. This door was locked and barred on the outside, and it required some little time and force before it could be broken open.