n into
their nimble feet. The battery of several large guns which they had
planted, and which might have done great mischief to the Union troops,
had they been bravely manned, was drawn off. In their confusion, the
bridge was first fired, and then the fire extinguished. Men, women,
and children ran screaming in every direction, crying, "They come!
they come! What shall we do?"

Here is a man within doors, gun in hand, pacing the floor in
consternation, ever and anon rushing to the window, and casting a
frightened glance in the direction of the road from the fort, till he
espies the Turk-like looking forms, moving "double quick," when he
darts from the house, screaming, "They are coming! they are coming!"
Off he flies, with the fleetness of fear, and in a few moments is seen
no more.

But in one house there are _two_ individuals, fearless and calm: Mrs.
Peake and her little daughter Daisy sit alike unalarmed; the one in
child-like faith, the other in child-like simplicity. Mrs. Walker,
Mrs. Peake's mother, is in a neighbor's house. Some time previous, the
lady of the house, an intimate friend, having great confidence in
sister Walker's prayers, said to her, "Sally, you must pray harder."

"Oh," said she, "I do pray as hard as I can."

"How do you pray, Sally?"

"I pray that the Lord's will may be done."

"You don't pray right, Sally," said one of them; "you must pray for
Jeff. Davis."

"Oh," said she, "I pray as well as I can, and as hard as I can. I am
praying all the time."

"That's right," said the other; "pray on, Sally--your prayer will
surely be heard. You can't pray any better prayer than you do. Pray
that the Lord's will may be done: I am sure it is the Lord's will that
the Yankees should not come here to disturb us; and I have faith to
believe they will not. Pray on, Sally; pray as hard as you can."

"I will, ma'am."

Time passed on; and now, on that fearful morning, just after the sun
has peeped above the horizon, lo, the Yankees! The strong faith above
expressed fails the possessor; and she, who would scarcely have set
foot on the ground for very delicacy, and who would not have been seen
riding out, unless in a fine carriage, drawn by fine horses, elegantly
harnessed, is now heard calling for any old horse or mule, and any
rickety wagon or cart, with rope harness--any thing--any thing to take
her out of the reach of the Yankees! Masters and mistresses are now
turned fugitives.

Here is one of