fter we have gone to bed. It may
be that, far from home, they are attracted by the bright light and
singing, and watch us for their amusement. A few nights ago, so many
officers passed and repassed while we were singing on the balcony, that
I felt as though our habit of long standing had suddenly become
improper. Saturday night, having secured a paper, we were all crowding
around, Lilly and I reading every now and then a piece of news from
opposite ends of the paper, Charlie, walking on the balcony, found five
officers leaning over the fence watching us as we stood under the
light, through the open window. Hope they won't elect me to the sewing
society!

Thursday night, July 3d.

Another day of sickening suspense. This evening, about three, came the
rumor that there was to be an attack on the town to-night, or early
in the morning, and we had best be prepared for anything. I can't say
I believe it, but in spite of my distrust, I made my preparations.
First of all I made a charming improvement in my knapsack, _alias_
pillow-case, by sewing a strong black band down each side of the centre
from the bottom to the top, when it is carried back and fastened below
again, allowing me to pass my arms through, and thus present the
appearance of an old peddler. Miriam's I secured also, and tied all our
laces in a handkerchief ready to lay it in the last thing.

But the interior of my bag!--what a medley it is! First, I believe, I
have secured four underskirts, three chemises, as many pairs of
stockings, two under-bodies, the prayer book father gave me, "Tennyson"
that Harry gave me when I was fourteen, two unmade muslins, a white
mull, English grenadine trimmed with lilac, and a purple linen, and
nightgown. Then, I must have Lavinia's daguerreotype, and how could I
leave Will's, when perhaps he was dead? Besides, Howell's and Will
Carter's were with him, and one single case did not matter. But there
was Tom Barker's I would like to keep, and oh! let's take Mr. Stone's!
and I can't slight Mr. Dunnington, for these two have been too kind to
Jimmy for me to forget; and poor Captain Huger is dead, and I _will_
keep his, so they all went together. A box of pens, too, was
indispensable, and a case of French note-paper, and a bundle of Harry's
letters were added. Miriam insisted on the old diary that preceded
this, and found place for it, though I am afraid if she knew what trash
she was to