“What’s the matter, gentlemen?” I asked with forced calmness.
They looked up at me in a stupid, masculine sort of way, as if they had something disagreeable to say and didn’t want to say it. I could shake those men now, when I think of how stupid they were! They were listening to Mr. Bradford, and I don’t think they really caught my question, nor did my manner betray to them how fast my heart was beating, but they were stupid, nevertheless. I could hardly get the next words out:
“Is Dan hurt?”
This time my voice was so low that they did not hear it at all.
“For God’s sake, gentlemen,” I cried out, “tell me if my husband is wounded or dead.”
“Neither, madam!” several voices answered instantly, and the officer nearest me, thinking I was going to fall, sprang quickly to my side. I gathered myself together, and they told me their business, and I saw why my presence had embarrassed them—they wanted my room for the wounded. A funny thing had happened, incongruous as it was, in their telling me that my fears for Dan were groundless. When I asked, “Is Dan hurt?” one of them had answered, “No, ma’am; it’s General Rooney Lee;” and I had said, “Thank God!” I can’t describe the look of horror with which they heard me.
“These gentlemen,” began Mr. Bradford, who was always afraid to speak his mind, “wanted to bring General Lee here, and I didn’t have a place to put him, and I was telling ’em that I thought that—maybe—you would give him your room. I could fix up a lounge for you somewhere.”
“Of course I will! I shall be delighted to give up my room, or do anything else I can for General Lee.”
I busied myself getting my room ready for General “Rooney,” but he was not brought to Mr. Bradford’s, after all; his men were afraid that he might be captured too easily at Mr. Bradford’s. As night came on the yard filled up with soldiers. In the lawn, the road, the backyard, the porches, the outhouses, everywhere, there were soldiers. You could not set your foot down without putting it on a soldier; if you thrust your hand out of a window you touched a soldier’s back or shoulder, his carbine or his musket. The place was crowded not only with cavalry, but with infantry and artillery, and still they kept on coming. I had not heard from Dan. It was late supper-time. I had no heart for supper, and I felt almost too shaken to present myself at the table, but as I passed the dining-room in my restless rovings I saw General Stuart’s back, and went in and sat by him.
“General,” I said, “can you tell me anything of Dan?”