Farragut's fleet and "the honor of the Riffraffs" were forgotten in the presence of this frail embodiment of death.
Upon his own bed beside an open window he laid her, and while his eager company became surgeon's assistants, he tenderly bound her wounds.
For several hours she lay in a stupor, and when she opened her eyes the captain knelt beside her. Mrs. Magwire stood near, noisily weeping.
"Is it saved?" she asked, when at length she opened her eyes.
Captain Doc, thinking her mind was wandering, raised her head, and pointed to the river, now ablaze with light.
"See," said he. "See the steamboats loaded with burning cotton, and the great ship meeting them; that is a Yankee gunboat! See, it is passing."
"And you didn't shoot? And are the people glad?"
"No, we didn't shoot. You fell and got hurt at the dark turn by the acacia bushes, where you hang your little lantern on dark nights. Some one ought to have hung one for you to-night. How did it happen, child?"
"It didn't happen. I did it on purpose. I knew if I got hurt you would stop and cure me, and not fire at the boats. I wanted to save—to save the plan—"
While the little old man raised a glass to the child's lips his hand shook, and something like a sob escaped him.