There we found something like a riot going on, shouting and noises of all sorts, and the town full of drunken soldiers. We were told that there had been fighting in the valley, that the Federals had won, and that the men had just been paid off, and were celebrating victory and enjoying pay and booty in regular soldier fashion. Through this shouting, rowdy mob mother and I passed under our Federal escort to the tavern. When we reached the tavern, a miserable little place full of drunken soldiers, our kind escort told us that his duty was at an end, and that he must take the return train to Baltimore. I think he hated to leave us under such unsafe circumstances, but he scarcely had time to settle us in the reception-room, shake hands, and catch his train. Here mother and I sat, debating what we should do. Of course, we were extremely anxious to get out of the place. We called a waiter and asked him if he could tell us where we could hire a vehicle to take us a part of our journey, or the whole of it. He knew of nothing that we could get. Then we went out on the porch, disagreeable as this was, and made inquiries of everybody who seemed sober enough to answer, but to no purpose. We could find no way of getting out of Harper’s Ferry that night. Thoroughly frightened, we asked to be shown to the commanding officer of the place, and were ushered into General Kelly’s office, which, fortunately, was attached to the tavern--really a part of it. General Kelly rose when we entered, saw us seated, and was as courteous as possible, while we stated the case and asked his advice. He heard us patiently, and was very sympathetic. “I don’t know what to say, ladies. I have no authority to send you on.” “Then what _will_ we do, general?” “I can not say. I can, of course, give you passes, but you will find it impossible to hire anything here to travel in just now. The best you could get would be an ox-cart or a broken-down wagon, and the roads are almost impassable for good strong vehicles. And, besides, it is not safe for you to travel except under military escort, which, as I have said, I have no authority to furnish. There has been a great deal of fighting in the valley, and the roads are lined with stragglers. If you were prisoners now I could put you under escort and send you through our lines easy enough, but as it is I don’t see what I can do.” We felt inclined to cry. “And this is not a fit place for you to spend the night in, as you can see for yourselves,” he pursued, very much in the manner of a Job’s comforter. “The tavern is thronged with drunken men, and the whole town is overrun with them.” “Would it not be best for us to return to Baltimore?” we asked humbly. We had almost made up our minds to going back. “That would be best, certainly--if you _can_.” “Why, can’t we go back? We had no idea that we wouldn’t be allowed to go back if we wanted to.”