r you."

"You surely don't expect me to run about in the dust and shelling to
look for it, and Mr. L. is too busy."

"Well, madam, then we must share the house. We will take the lower
floor."

"I prefer to keep the lower floor myself; you surely don't expect me to
go up and down stairs when you are so light and more able to do it."

He walked through the hall, trying the doors. "What room is that?" "The
parlor." "And this?" "My bedroom." "And this?" "The dining-room."

"Well, madam, we'll find you a house and then come and take this."

"Thank you, colonel; I shall be ready when you find the house.
Good-morning, sir."

I heard him say as he ran down the steps, "We must go back, captain; you
see I didn't know they were this kind of people."

Of course the orderly had lied in the beginning to scare me, for General
P. is too far away from Vicksburg to send an order. He is looking about
for General Grant. We are told he has gone out to meet Johnston; and
together they expect to annihilate Grant's army and free Vicksburg
forever. There is now a general hospital opposite this house, and a
smallpox hospital next door. War, famine, pestilence, and fire surround
us. Every day the band plays in front of the smallpox hospital. I wonder
if it is to keep up their spirits? One would suppose quiet would be more
cheering.

_May 17._--Hardly was our scanty breakfast over this morning when a
hurried ring drew us both to the door.

Mr. J., one of H.'s assistants, stood there in high excitement.

"Well, Mr. L., they are upon us; the Yankees will be here by this
evening."

"What do you mean?"

"That Pemberton has been whipped at Baker's Creek and Big Black, and his
army are running back here as fast as they can come, and the Yanks after
them, in such numbers nothing can stop them. Hasn't Pemberton acted like
a fool?"

"He may not be the only one to blame," replied H.

"They're coming along the Big B. road, and my folks went down there to
be safe, you know; now they're right in it. I hear you can't see the
armies for the dust; never was anything else known like it. But I must
go and try to bring my folks back here."

What struck us both was the absence of that concern to be expected, and
a sort of relief or suppressed pleasure. After twelve some
worn-out-looking men sat down under the window.

"What is the news?" I inquired.

"Ritreat, ritreat!" they said, in broken English--they were Louisiana
Acadians.

About three