Davis that his thin line could hold
back Grant's hosts but a few days and that Richmond must fall. His men
were living on parched corn.

The President hurried to the White House and slipped his arm around his
wife.

"You must leave the city, my dear."

"Please let me stay with you," she pleaded.

"Impossible," he answered firmly. "My headquarters must be in the
saddle. Your presence here could only grieve and distress me. You can
take care of our babies. I know you wish to help and comfort me. You can
do this in but one way--go and take the children to a place of safety--"

He paused, overcome with emotion.

"If I live," he continued slowly, "you can come to me when the struggle
is over, but I do not expect to survive the destruction of our
liberties."

He drew his small hoard of gold from his pocket, removed a five-dollar
piece for himself, and gave it all to his wife together with the
Confederate money he had on hand.

"You must take only your clothing," he said after a moment's silence.
"The flour and supplies in your pantry must be left. The people are in
want."

He had arranged for his family to settle in North Carolina. The day
before his wife left, he gave her a pistol and taught her trembling
hands to load, aim and fire it.

"The danger will be," he warned, "that you may full into the hands of
lawless bands of deserters from both armies who are even now pillaging
and burning. You can at least, if you must, force your assailants to
kill you. If you cannot remain undisturbed in your own land make for the
coast of Florida and take a ship for a foreign country."

Their hearts dumb with despair, his wife and children boarded the
train--or the thing that once had been a train--the roof of the cars
leaked and the engine wheezed and moved with great distress.

The stern face of the Southern leader was set in his hour of trial. He
felt that he might never again look on the faces of those he loved. His
little girl clung convulsively to his neck in agonizing prayer that she
might stay. The boy begged and pleaded with tears raining down his
chubby face.

Just outside of Richmond the engine broke down and the heartsick family
sat in the dismal day-coach all night. Sleepers had not been invented.
They were twelve hours getting to Danville--a week on the way to
Charlotte.

The reign of terror had already begun.

The President's wife avoided seeing people lest they should be
compromised when the invading ar