“What danger?” questioned Mrs. Miller, who had come down from the house to greet Roland, and Roxy again heard Roland tell the story of the rumors of advancing armies.
Captain Delfield encouraged them all by saying that these hillside farms were too far from the direct routes of travel to make it likely that marching armies would trouble them; but Mrs. Miller nevertheless at once started Jacob and the other negroes to harvest the wheat, and to gather every crop in the fields bordering the highway.
Roland said that his mother and little sisters were going to Sharpsburg, and that he and some of the negroes meant, that very day, to start into the mountains with their horses, ponies and cows; and he bade them all good-bye, promising to let them know of the family’s return home when the trouble was over.
Captain Delfield and Roxy walked slowly toward the house, and Roxy knew that her soldier father was wishing himself able to again join his regiment; but while he was better he was not yet able to sit up all day, and was easily tired, and there could be no question of his leaving home at present.
There were two fine gray mules belonging to Grandma Miller, and one driving horse, beside Captain Delfield’s fine saddle-horse that had brought him safely on his long journey.
“The mules cannot be spared until the crops are harvested, and I do not mean to start the cattle off until I see soldiers coming over the bridge,” decided Mrs. Miller.
It seemed to Roxy that Roland’s news had changed everything. No one now seemed to remember her, she thought, as she heard her father and mother talking of General McClellan and General Lee. She heard her father say that before the war began these two great generals had known each other well, and regarded each other highly. They had served together under the American flag in Mexico.
Roxy did not stay to hear more but went into the kitchen to find Dulcie sitting in the big rocking-chair, with her apron over her head, rocking vigorously back and forth and groaning with every breath.
“Stop, Dulcie! Whatever is the matter?” demanded Roxy, taking hold of the blue-checked apron and drawing it from Dulcie’s face.
“We’s all gwine ter be druv off into slav’ree; or mebbe we’s all gwine ter be kill’t!” declared the frightened woman.