General Hood had succeeded in getting sixty thousand rifles from the Brooklyn Navy Yard, Governor’s Island, the Forts and one uncaptured armory in Brooklyn which the guns of the _Pennsylvania_ had torn open and held until occupied by his troops. All night the Volunteers from Brooklyn and New York streamed into Jamaica. Before daylight a hundred thousand men were struggling to board the trains for Southampton. But fifty thousand were allowed to leave. There were no more guns. The remaining fifty thousand were held as reserves with such rude weapons as they possessed. Guards were placed defending the approaches to Brooklyn and New York and a camp established for drilling and training the new recruits into the semblance of an army. CHAPTER XXIV The sun rose on a day never to be forgotten by the people of Long Island. Refugees were pouring along every road from the city. A wild rumor of the bombardment of New York had spread and they were determined to get behind General Hood’s thin line of half-armed defenders. They were still imbued with a blind faith that somewhere our mighty nation had an army of adequate defense. Virginia Holland had reached home by automobile to find her father’s house turned into a recruiting camp. Old soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic and the Confederate veterans of New York and Brooklyn, were out in their faded uniforms demanding guns with which to defend the flag. Holland received them in his house and began to drill on the lawn. Virginia with sinking heart hurried to serve refreshments to the mob of excited men. Marya and Zonia joined with enthusiasm. Benda was there awaiting Vassar’s arrival with a squad of his friends for whom he had procured uniforms and a few guns. He was drilling them in his earnest, awkward way when Angela suddenly appeared in the line of refugees from New York. He rushed to stop her: “Ah, my Angela, you here! And I told you stay home!” Angela tossed her head with contempt for his fears. “I come with you--” “Go back--back--I say!” Angela merely laughed and resumed her march with the refugees. If they could live she could. Tommaso threw up his hands in despair and returned to his drill. At noon Vassar approached at the head of a division of raw troops. The road was lined with cheering people. He halted his men at the gate, dismounted and entered the Holland lawn, hoping against hope for a word with Virginia. He watched for a moment old Holland at the pathetic task of drilling his blue and gray veterans. “It won’t do, Mr. Holland,” he said with a smile. “Your fighting is done--” “Nonsense!” Holland protested. “I’ll show you--” He put his line of veterans through the manual of arms and one of them fainted. Vassar slipped his arm about him tenderly. “It’s no use. I need your guns. Give them to me--” Tommaso marched in and took the half-dozen guns against the bitter protests of the old men.