“Will that terrible vessel come after us?” asked Jeanne hardly realizing that the danger was over.
“No, child. We are safe. The ram knows that Farragut is somewhere near here, and she will not venture out to-night. We are safe; thank God!”
“Thank God!” echoed the girl faintly. “Safe! Oh, Captain, Captain!” and she burst into a passion of weeping.
“Why, my little heroine, what does this mean?” cried Captain Leathers dismayed. “You were cool enough through that fire of grape and canister. ‘Ready to die,’ you said; ‘just so that you could die standing.’ It was enough to frighten the bravest man, yet you were not afraid. And now you break down?”
“Leab her ter me, massa,” said old Tenny coming up on deck. “Jest you leab dat chile ter ole Tenny. Ef dis night ain’t been enuff ter make an angel weep den I dunno nuffin. Lawsie, massa! I’se been suah dat I wuz daid fer de las’ hour. Fiah an’ brimstone nebber scare me no mo’. De bad man ain’t got no wuss ter gib dan dis has been, an’ I knows it. Come, chile! Come, honey! Ole Tenny’ll put yer ter bed now.”
“Yes; that is the best place for her,” said the Captain as the girl continued to sob uncontrollably. “I’ll carry her down, Tenny, and you see to her.”
He lifted Jeanne up bodily in his arms, and bore her into the cabin picking his way carefully through the débris scattered about.
“I–I can’t help but cry,” sobbed Jeanne with an effort at self-control.
“It’s all right, my little girl. Cry all you want to. You are nervous and overwrought. I feel as if I’d like to do the same if I wasn’t a man. Sleep well because you are safe now, and you won’t have any more of this to go through. Good-night.”
“Good-night,” murmured Jeanne and presently she grew calm under Tenny’s soothing ministrations.