Mrs. Schmidt's brother lived on a lane that branched from the Emmitsburg Road, a mile beyond the road that led to the farm of Grandfather Willing. If Emmeline had not had to travel in Mrs. Schmidt's company, she would have been spared some of the ignominy of her departure. Not only was she going away from all excitement, all possibility of distinguishing herself, but she was journeying in Mrs. Schmidt's outrageous cart. She was accustomed to associate with the Schmidts, not as an equal, but as a superior. While she was dressing, she could see lame Mr. Bannon and Mrs. Schmidt putting the Schmidts' ancient horse between the shafts of the springless wagon. Into that wagon they had thrust already a feather bed, numerous chairs, a few of the six young Schmidts, and a quacking duck in a coop. Wildly Mrs. Schmidt flew about, frantically she commanded. "Get the boondles, Mary! Sally, get the tarpet sack!" Thus did Mrs. Schmidt's tongue trip in its haste. "Hurry yourself, Peter!" Emmeline wept as she braided her hair. "O mother!" she wailed again. But her mother was not at hand to hear. With swift steps Mrs. Willing went about the house, now waiting on Bertha, now packing a luncheon for Emmeline. In the lower hall Emmeline burst once more into tears. Across the street the pyramid on the Schmidt wagon was growing higher and higher. Mrs. Schmidt evidently expected the utter destruction of Gettysburg. Several soldiers had come to her aid. They helped to stow her goods on the wagon; they teased her with all sorts of predictions, to which she could reply only with a feeble "Ach!" "If the rebs get you, they'll eat you, lady!" "Ach!" cried Mrs. Schmidt. "Yes, sir! Now, Johnny, give me your hand and climb up here. Whoa, there!" The soldier leaped frantically to the drooping and motionless head of Whitey. "Ach!" cried Mrs. Schmidt. "I am a poor, poor woman!" "Some of the rebs are looking for sweethearts, missis." To that Mrs. Schmidt was not even able to say "Ach." She tried to explain that she was married, that she considered such a remark insulting; but before she could make her meaning plain, the soldiers had hoisted her aboard and had put the reins into her hands. Then a bright light flashed in the eyes of Mrs. Schmidt. "Ach, Emmy, you are going with!" To her mother Emmeline cast one more piteous glance. "O mother," begged Emmeline earnestly, "do not make me go!"