“My men,” said the captain in clear tones, “I have called you together to put a plain statement of facts before you. You know that we were sent here with supplies for the two fleets of Commodores Farragut and Davis. Both squadrons have many cases of fever which has seriously depleted their strength. Farragut needs the drugs that we have immediately. Of course he can get supplies by the outside route, but that takes too long. The poor fellows are in urgent want of what we have. Now, men, it was not the intention to go farther when we started than Davis’s flotilla, but my heart bleeds for those suffering sailors. I want to run by Vicksburg to-night in the darkness. I will not disguise the danger. The ram Arkansas lies at anchor under the city as a further menace besides the batteries. I want no man to accompany the expedition who does not go willingly. All who wish to remain with the fleet may do so without the least stigma of cowardice attaching to them. Who will go with me?”
There was dead silence. Jeanne looked with surprise at the grave faces before her. She had thought that men were always ready to lay down their lives in a good cause. She had not dreamed that any one would hesitate for a moment. Her amazed look gave place to one of scorn as the time passed and no one spoke. Stepping close to the Captain’s side she slipped her little hand into his and said clearly:
“I will go with you, Captain.”
CHAPTER VIII
THROUGH SHOT AND SHELL
A ringing cheer went up from the men and they stepped forward with one accord.
“I’ll go with you, Captain,” cried one. “With you and the little girl to the death.”
“Ay! to the death,” shouted the others in chorus.
The Captain smiled down into Jeanne’s face.
“You see what you have done,” he said. “They did not care to follow me, but will go anywhere with you. I believe that we shall have to turn over the boat to your charge.”