. Every time I tried to sleep, those
calm, deep, honest gray eyes started up before my closed ones, and that
earnest "You _won't_ go, will you? Think once more!" rang in my ears
like a solemn warning. Hopes of seeing Georgia grew rather faint, that
night. Is it lawful to risk my life? But is it not better to lose it
while believing that I have still a chance of saving it by going, than
to await certain death calmly and unresisting in Clinton? I'd rather
die struggling for this life, this beautiful, loved, blessed life that
God has given me!

March 10th, Tuesday.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I had so many nice things to say--which now, alas, are knocked forever
from my head--when news came that the Yankees were advancing on us, and
were already within fifteen miles. The panic which followed reminded me
forcibly of our running days in Baton Rouge. Each one rapidly threw
into trunks all clothing worth saving, with silver and valuables, to
send to the upper plantation. I sprang up, determined to leave
instantly for Clinton so mother would not be alarmed for our safety;
but before I got halfway dressed, Helen Carter came in, and insisted on
my remaining, declaring that my sickness and inability to move would
prove a protection to the house, and save it from being burned over
their heads. Put on that plea, though I have no faith in melting the
bowels of compassion of a Yankee, myself, I consented to remain, as
Miriam urgently represented the dangers awaiting Clinton. So she tossed
all we owned into our trunk to send to mother as hostage of our return,
and it is now awaiting the cars. My earthly possessions are all
reposing by me on the bed at this instant, consisting of my guitar, a
change of clothes, running-bag, cabas, and this book. For in spite of
their entreaties, I would not send it to Clinton, expecting those
already there to meet with a fiery death--though I would like to
preserve those of the most exciting year of my life. They tell me that
this will be read aloud to me to torment me, but I am determined to
burn it if there is any danger of that. Why, I would die without some
means of expressing my feelings in the stirring hours so rapidly
approaching. I shall keep it by me.

Such bustle and confusion! Every one hurried, anxious, excited,
whispering, packing trunks, sending them off; wondering negroes looking
on in amazement