“I think they would have gone,” said Jeanne, rather abashed at so much notice. “Perhaps they were just thinking it over.”
“True for you, my beauty,” cried the first mate. “That’s what we were doing, Captain. We’d a gone all right.”
“Now, men,” said the Captain seriously, still retaining Jeanne’s hand, “you fully realize what you are doing, do you? Think well, because there can be no backing out when we have started. Any one who does not wish to join us may go forward. We have no means of fighting and must take whatever the ‘rebs’ choose to give us. You see that I am not mincing matters with you, boys. Move forward any of you who do not wish to go.”
He paused and waited for a few moments, but not a man stirred from his place.
“Then listen,” he went on briskly. “We’ll finish giving the Commodore his supplies, and then barricade the boat with bales of cotton. Under the protection of one of Davis’s gunboats we will try to run the batteries under cover of the darkness. Now fall to, my hearties. There is much to be done.”
There was another cheer and the men sprang to their tasks. The Captain looked down at the girl by his side. Jeanne’s eyes were like stars, and her cheeks were red as roses. The blood of her Revolutionary ancestors was up and she showed no sign of fear.
“What will your father say if I do not bring you safely through this?” asked the Captain.
“It is a risk that we must run,” said Jeanne. “There is no more danger for me than for you and the men.”
“True, child; yet we are men, and you are only a girl. I don’t know just where you ought to stay through this affair. One part of the boat will be just as safe as another.”
“Don’t mind me, Captain. You will have your duties to attend to, and I will not bother if I am ‘only a girl.’”