If we had known what he was and the nature of the papers, I think our patriotism would have risen to the occasion, but we should have been more nervous and more likely to betray ourselves. So I think he was wise to take the liberty of counting on our patriotism, and also to keep us in the dark as a safeguard for both ourselves and the papers. The next forenoon we reached the Potomac River, and found ourselves in Federal lines. Our wagoner bade us good-by and left us there on the bank. In the river below lay the lighter on which we were to cross the Potomac. It was crowded with Federal soldiers. There was no way to reach it except to slide down the bank, and the bank was steep. To slide down, it was neither a graceful nor a dignified thing to do. I drew back. The captain took me by the hand to pull me over. I still drew back. I did not want to slide down that bank. “Come on, sister!” he exclaimed with brotherly crossness. I grinned broadly, but the captain, his back to the lighter, gave me such a serious look that I sobered in an instant. “Sister, come along! Don’t be a goose!” he said, and giving me a jerk pulled me over. The Federal soldiers on the lighter could see and hear. One blunder now and we were lost. I yielded to the inevitable and slid down the bank with the captain; Mr. Holliway followed with Milicent. Another minute, and we stood on the lighter in the midst of Yankee soldiers and Yankee horses. A horse’s nose was over my shoulder the whole way. Soldiers were crowded up against me, there was ample occasion for swears, but I don’t think I heard an oath the entire distance, and they were courtesy itself to Milicent and me. Landing at Berlin, we walked into the office of the provost marshal. The provost was out, and the deputy who was at his desk looked at us with cool, inquisitive eyes. He put the usual questions and received ready-made answers. “Who are you?” he asked Captain Locke in a very suspicious tone. “Charles D. Moore, of Baltimore.” “Occupation?” “I am studying law.” “Humph!” with a glance that made me keenly alive to the lameness of that story told by the martial-looking captain. “What are you doing down here?” “Taking my sisters back home.” “Humph! Who are you?” turning to Mr. Holliway. “William H. May, of Baltimore.” “Studying law too?” “No. I expect to study medicine.” “Are you taking these ladies back home too?” “I am accompanying them, certainly,” said Mr. Holliway with asperity. “Who _are_ these ladies?” “My sisters,” said Captain Locke firmly, “and I am here to protect them on their way back home.” “Where have they been?” “They are from Mr. Robert Bolling’s in Fauquier County, Virginia. They have been visiting at his house. We wished them to return to Baltimore, and I came south for them. My cousin, Mr. May, joined us.” “And you--what are you doing down here?” with a touch of irony to Holliway. “Got caught this side by the war, and am trying to get back home.”