“I thought that you would think so,” and the lady smoothed her hair gently. “Suppose that it were your own brother, Dick. I know that you would do almost anything to help him, and I feel the same about Auguste. I tried vainly to get a pass to go to him to take him some necessities, but ma foi! That beast of a Yankee General will not give me one. I am distressed. I suffer, but of what avail is it? I come to you, my little one, for aid.”
“To me?” Jeanne looked her surprise. “What can I do, Cherie?”
“You are so brave. You have so much cleverness. Could I do it I would not ask it of you. But what would you! I am a coward. I faint at the least noise. I lose my wits; and so, child, I want you to take some medicine and food to my Auguste.”
“I to take it? Why how could I do it?”
“’Tis easy to one who has the courage, petite. I would send Feliciane with you. ’Tis only to elude the sentinels some dark night and once beyond them the rest is nothing. Feliciane knows where a boat is hidden on Lake Ponchartrain, and she would row you to the other side where you would be met by one of my brother’s comrades who would receive the things. Then you step once more into the boat, and Mais! there you are safe and sound in the city again.”
“Why could not Feliciane go alone?” questioned Jeanne.
“My child, she has not the intelligence. One must demand nothing of these creatures that calls for the exercise of reason. Will you go, my pet?”
“Would it be wrong, Cherie?”
“Wrong to carry food to a wounded soldier? Why should you think so, child?”
“Then it is nothing against the government?”