“Stow it, or it will be the worst for you,” called another.
“You asked me to sing,” said the girl undauntedly. “And I will choose my own song.”
“She is right,” and Colonel Peyton pushed his way to her side. “You asked her, boys, and she can sing what she chooses. Take your medicine like men.”
Sullenly the soldiers settled back into their places while Jeanne courageously finished her song.
“It wasn’t right,” said Bob angrily as Jeanne joined her. “You didn’t treat the boys right. If dad hadn’t been there they wouldn’t have stood it.”
“If they don’t want to hear such things they must not ask me to sing,” cried Jeanne, her eyes blazing. “I am compelled to hear treason every day.”
“You don’t need to stay here,” flashed Bob.
“I am sure that I don’t want to,” answered Jeanne. “I want to go to my own people and I will go to-morrow if your father will let me. I don’t stay because I want to.”
“Well, you needn’t be so glad to be rid of us,” and the tears welled up into Bob’s eyes. “I am sure that we are good to you.”
“Yes; you are,” and Jeanne went to her quickly. “I shall be sorry to leave you, Bob, but I do want to see my father and my mother. It has been so long, so long.” She turned away to hide her tears.