Faint and weary Jeanne sank into the seat assigned her, and waited apathetically the summons which were to lead her to the General’s presence. It came soon and she was led into the office where the General sat behind a long table on which lay a pistol.
This was the man’s sole precaution against assassination, and was used only after the discovery of one or two plots to kill him. There were several of his staff with him in the room, but the girl saw only the stern face of the Commander. He gave a start of surprise as his eyes fell upon her.
“You?” he exclaimed. “Are you the girl who has been caught bringing contraband letters into the city? Child, child, I am surprised.”
Jeanne’s lips quivered and she turned very pale, but she only said:
“Yes, sir; I did it.”
“And you are the girl who professed such devotion to the cause of your country? You, who carried the flag upon your person, and kissed it to show your patriotism? I am more than surprised! I am grieved!”
“Don’t,” exclaimed Jeanne, her utterance choked with sobs. “Oh, sir, I do love my country, but I am not worthy to carry its flag any longer. Take it.” She drew the flag from her dress and laid it before him.
Her distress was so evident, so real that General Butler’s glance softened.
“If you feel like that,” he said not unkindly, “perhaps you will tell me the truth about the matter.”
“Gladly,” cried Jeanne eagerly. “I will tell you anything that you ask.”