CHAPTER XXIX
MADAME FOR THE LAST TIME
Since leaving the La Chaises’ Jeanne had seen nothing of her uncle and aunt, so she supposed that they had withdrawn from the city when General Pemberton had issued the order for the non-combatants to leave. One afternoon amid the rush and explosion of the shells, cries and screams arose–the screams of women amid the shrieks of the falling shells. Their curiosity getting the better of their timidity, Jeanne and Bob resolved to find out what was the matter.
“Then I will go too,” said Dick, “if you are resolved upon going, but I think it is foolhardy.”
“Let’s go,” cried Bob. “I am so tired of this damp, ill-smelling, earthy home that I almost think I would welcome death as a change. Let’s go.”
The three started forth, dodging the shells as they walked. Presently they came to a cave in a side hill around which a number of people were gathered.
“What has happened?” asked Dick of a man.
“It’s the cave of the Vances and the La Chaises,” was the answer. “Some shells struck the ground above and it caved in burying them. We don’t know whether they are dead or alive.”
With an exclamation of horror Dick darted forward.
“A spade,” he cried. “A spade, or a pick, or a shovel! Anything that will dig! Why do you stand here, men?”
“We can’t work with the shells flying around us,” growled a man.