“I thank you so much for telling me this, General. I shall tell mother as soon as I arrive, and we shall pack up everything so as to be prepared for flight.” The General rose quickly, his keen eyes flashing and his face purpling with rage. “Prepare for flight? Do you think I have told you my official business to scare you? Do you think those damned ruffians will ever get to New Orleans except over the dead bodies of me and my troops? I’ll drive them into the river, what is left of them, and you shall be there to see it. By the Eternal, I swear it, and you shall see the river red with their bloating carcasses! I’ll pay off the score they have piled on us on the lakes and at Washington and on the sea. Prepare for flight!” he said, cooling down, “why, my dear, and you old Joe Templeton’s daughter!” He sat down, blowing his nose vigorously. He looked around half shamedly. She could almost see the purple anger retiring before the mastery of a mind whose first great instinct was unmeasured calmness—a calmness which, in spite of his nature, he could command when he wished at all times. A man who could both bluff and fight. “No,” he went on, after awhile, “prepare to stay. I hate to see you go, but aside from the fact that there will be some very extraordinary fighting, which you will have nothing to do with, and need not see, New Orleans will be as safe as the Hermitage.” “Oh, General,” she apologized, “please forgive me, I did not understand you.” His good nature returned, even his jollity. It was his way—a thunderbolt one moment, the next Jupiter himself in all his calmness. He went on talking to himself more than to her. “A thousand of my Tennesseans have started to-day. Let me see—they should be at Ditto Landing by—” There was a volley in the yard and loud cheers. The General sprang up and went quickly out. The dancers flocked to windows, doors and out into the yard. When Juliette went out she saw the General surrounded by a strange crowd. A glance told her it was troops on their way to the front, and Mrs. Jackson, who stood at her side, said: “Captain Trevellian’s company going South, dear.” The crowd had surged out into the lawn where General Jackson had gone to greet them, and Juliette found herself also in the crowd, while around her flocked the dancers to see their friends and neighbors off once more to the war. Their commander had drawn them up in line of battle, a gaunt, sinewy, tanned and splendid sight under the flaring lights of the bonfires. It was not a very straight alignment as it surged forward on both flanks, half surrounding General Jackson and their captain, both of whom they idolized. They had given the General a volley and salute, and now surged forward to hear what he and their captain had to say.