“Ah! that touched you, did it?” laughed the Captain. “But I do mind you, child. I don’t half like this idea of your going. You are sure that you won’t stay here?”
“Sure, Captain. Indeed, I must get to New Orleans, and there is no other way, is there?”
“No; to try to make it by land on either side the river would be through the enemy’s country with every chance in favor of capture. This is a desperate risk but sometimes desperate chances stand the best show of success. Once past Vicksburg and the rest is easy.”
“Then please don’t say anything more about my staying,” pleaded Jeanne. “I will try not to be the least bit in the way.”
And so it came about that the transport made ready to run the batteries of Vicksburg with Jeanne on board. The girl watched the men as they worked, and waited impatiently for the time to come for them to start. At last night fell. There was no moon, and a little before midnight a gunboat drifted out of Miliken’s Bend where the fleet lay, and, showing no light from its chimney, moved like some great bird down the noiseless current, while the transport, hugging the western shore under the cover of the friendly darkness, followed close in the rear.
No sound could be heard from the heights of Vicksburg, nor could any lights be seen. The city lay in the brooding darkness as calmly quiet as though no dread batteries lay at her feet waiting but the word of command to belch forth their terrible fire. An hour passed, and Jeanne, sitting in the darkness of the cabin listening with strained ears to catch the least sound, began to believe that they would get safely past the city undiscovered.
Suddenly there came a flash followed by a crash that shook the shores. Lights danced along the heights. Thunder answered thunder and the roar of batteries from land and water rent the air. Presently a blaze flickered, flashed and then sprang up in a great sheet of flame upon the heights throwing the gunboat and the transport into a strong light, and turning the gloom of the black midnight into the brilliancy of day. The Confederates had fired a mass of combustibles with which to spy out the whereabouts of their enemies.
With the first burst of the artillery Jeanne ran up on deck.
“Back to the cabin, girl,” shouted the Captain hoarsely. “This is no place for you.”
But as Jeanne turned to obey him a shot tore through the cabin and fell hissing into the water beyond. The girl paused. Captain Leathers caught her arm and drew her behind a bale of cotton.