"A Richmond paper says forty thousand instead of eighteen,"
Mr. Marshall remarked.
"Mr. Russell, of the London Times, estimated Beauregard's
force at sixty thousand," I said.
"He don't know!" said De Saussure.
"And Mr. Davis does not know," I added; "for the whole loss of
cannon on the Northern side that day amounted to but
seventeen. Mr. Davis may as well be wrong in one set of facts
as in another. He said also that provisions enough were taken
to feed an army of fifty thousand men for twelve months."
"Well, why not?" said Ransom, frowning.
"These gentlemen can tell you why not."
"Pretty heavy figures," said Mr. Marshall.
"Why are they not true, Miss Randolph?" Mr. de Saussure asked,
bending as before a most deferential look upon me.
"And look here, - in what interest are you, Daisy?" my brother
continued.
"Nothing is gained by blinking the truth anywhere, Ransom."
"No, that is true," said my father.
"Daisy has been under the disadvantage of hearing only one
side lately," my mother remarked very coolly.
"But about the provisions, Miss Randolph?" Mr. De Saussure
insisted, returning to the point with a willingness, I
thought, to have me speak.
"Mamma says, I have heard only one side," I answered. "But on
that side I have heard it remarked, that twelve thousand
wagons would have been required to carry those provisions to
the battlefield. I do not know if the calculation was
correct."
Mr. De Saussure's face clouded for an instant. My father
seemed to be pondering. Ransom's frowns grew more deep.
"What side are you on, Daisy?" he repeated.
"She is on her own side, of course," my mother said.
"I hope there is no doubt of that, Mrs. Randolph," said Mr.
Marshall. "Such an enemy would be very formidable! I should
begin to question on which side I was myself."
They went off into a long discussion about the probable
movements of the belligerent parties in America; what might be
expected from different generals; how long the conflict was
likely to last, and how its certain issue, the discomfiture of
the North and the independence of the South, would be
attained. Mingled with this discussion were laudations of
Jefferson Davis, scornful reviling of President Lincoln, and
sneers at the North generally; at their men, their officers,
their money, their way of making it and their way of spending
it. Triumphant anticipations, of shame and defeat to them and
the superb exaltation of the South, were scattered, like a
salt and pepper seasoning, through all the conversation. I
listened, with my nerves tingling sometimes, with my heart
throbbing at other times; sadly inclined to believe they might
be right in a part of their calculations; very sadly sure they
were wrong in everything else. I had to keep a constant guard
upon my face; happily my words were not called for. My eyes
now and then met papa's, with a look that gave and received
another sort of communication. When the evening was over, and
papa was folding me in his arms to bid me good-night, he
whispered, "You and I cannot be on two sides of anything, Daisy?"