Britomarte sat at the grated window of her cell, as she had sat—how many heavy days and sleepless nights! She was almost as fleshless as a skeleton, as bloodless as a corpse, and as hopeless as a lost spirit. She had been listening to the solemn Sabbath bells calling the citizens to their afternoon worship; she had been watching these citizens, both male and female, young and old, troop past, in their quaint, faded, and old-fashioned apparel, that the severity of the blockade compelled them still to wear, and she had been wondering wearily at the strange self-delusion and inconsistency which permitted these people to collect and pray like Christians in their churches, and to muster and make war like heathen upon their brethren. But now the bells had ceased to ring, the churches were filled, and the streets were empty. Her head dropped upon her hand, and she sat in dull despair, while the hours crept slowly by, and the sun sank slowly to his setting. Then the cry of her heart went up: “‘How long, O Lord, how long?’” Not long now, oh pale prisoner! “The day of the Lord is at hand, at hand.” The sun has set for the last time upon the Rebel capital. To-morrow it will rise upon a redeemed city. Even now Lee’s army is in full retreat. And those Sabbath bells you late heard ringing summoned, among others, one worshipper to church, who ere he left his pew again, received a telegram announcing, in effect, that his reign was over and his city about to be taken. Even now the trains of cars at the station of the Richmond and Danville Railroad are seized for the use of the Confederate President and his retinue, who are about to fly from the falling capital. Breckenridge and his army have received orders to evacuate Richmond by midnight; but he has resolved to leave behind him a tremendous token of vengeance by destroying the city that they could not hold. There is an ever-increasing noise and confusion throughout the city, though as yet the people are kept in ignorance and do not know what all the excitement is about. Britomarte, sitting at the grated window of her prison cell, and seeing the crowds hurry through the streets, thought at first that they were the congregations dismissed from the several churches. But as the crowds became multitudes, and the confusion became uproar, she began to think that news of some great battle had been received; but whether the people were howling over a defeat or hurrahing over a victory, she could _not_ discover. While she was enduring this suspense, the door of her cell was unlocked, and the guard, or turnkey, who attended her, brought in the cup of unsalted corn meal gruel that formed her usual supper. For months she had ceased to speak to her guards, because they had been forbidden to hold any conversation with her. But now the unexplained uproar of the whole city, the excited looks of this man, and her own intense anxiety, irresistibly impelled her to question him.