He looked at her and smiled. “I can take care of myself. I proved that this morning, and perhaps I can do some good in some direction. God bless you, little sister.” He kissed her and lifted her upon a pile of bedding in the wagon. Mrs. Gittings, with the children crying with fright, and Patsey, scarcely less agitated, were already established in the wagon, which at once set out to join the procession. There was no room for another in the already full wagon, and although William insisted in following on foot to see them safely out of town, they persuaded him to remain where he was, telling him that he was too worn out to do more, and that if he should drop by the way, he would but add to their distresses. The hot sun beat down mercilessly; the air was filled with stifling dust as the long line of wagons and foot passengers, with not a few on horseback, moved toward the bridge spanning the shores from Georgetown to Virginia. The President and Mrs. Madison had gone over, the latter waiting till the last moment to oversee the removal of a valuable portrait of General Washington from the White House. Many officials also could be seen in the midst of the frightened crowd that poured over the bridge. Lettice, with clasped hands and quivering lips, gazed at the white walls of the Capitol looming up dimly through the veil of dust. Running away! Every one was running away it seemed. Her mind took fantastic ideas; they were a troop of ants swarming from an ant-hill; they were the animals trooping into the ark; they were anything but the citizens of an American city fleeing from a ruthless foe. The blinding, choking dust enveloped her. It was the pillar of cloud which led the Children of Israel. Yes, there were the multitudes crossing the Red Sea, with Pharaoh and his host behind them, and yonder red flare on the shore was the pillar of fire. These fancies possessed her as the wagon rumbled on, and finally reached Georgetown, where it halted. “And over there is the Promised Land,” she said aloud. Patsey turned and looked at her. “Are you daft, too, Lettice?” she said. “Yuh ladies bleedged ter git out,” said their sable driver; “dat hin’ wheel give a mighty ornery creak de las’ time we strike a rut, an’ I is bleedged ter tinker her up a little befo’ we goes on.” And out they all clambered, while Simon went off to a neighboring blacksmith shop for assistance. Patsey, with the hot hand of one little child in hers, stood among the company of refugees, while Mrs. Gittings tried to soothe her fretful baby. “If I only had a little milk to give him, I think he would be quiet,” she said. “He is hungry, I know, poor darling. It was useless to bring milk with us; it would not have kept an hour in this heat.” “I’ll go and see if I can find any,” Patsey said. But the little Dolly clung to her, crying, “I don’t want my Patsey to leave me.”