CHAPTER XXX
THE END OF THE SIEGE
It was the morning of the Fourth of July. Jeanne awoke from a deep sleep. Generally about four o’clock the shrapnel shells were thrown more furiously than at any other time of the day. She listened for a few moments and then turned to Bob excitedly.
“Bob, Bob,” she cried, “wake up. The shells have stopped falling.”
“What!” cried Bob, awake instantly. “Are you sure? Why it is true! How quiet it is! What can be the matter?”
The girls began to dress hurriedly and then went outside the cave to learn the cause of the cessation of the firing. People everywhere were running out of their caves to find the reason. A painful calm prevailed, and so long had the constant firing been kept up that the stillness was actually oppressive.
“What is the matter?” asked Bob as an old gray-headed soldier passed on the hillside near the cave. Stopping and touching his cap the man replied:
“It’s all over. The white flag floats from our forts. Vicksburg has surrendered!”
With a cry that Jeanne never forgot Bob turned and passed into the cave. A feeling of gladness and thankfulness welled up into Jeanne’s heart, succeeded by a great wave of pity for these people who had fought so long and well.
“Bob,” she called, softly, following after the girl and putting her arms about her, “Bob, don’t grieve so.”
“Don’t,” cried Bob, throwing her off passionately. “You’re glad! You know you are.”