CHAPTER XII
AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY
"I have a fine dish of ink all ready," said Captain Enos the next morning,"but 'Tis too clear a morning to sit in the house and write letters. Thereare good cod coming into the harbor, and I must row out and catch what Ican while the weather is good."
"Can we not write the letter to-night?" asked Anne. "Aunt Martha has somefine pitch knots to burn that will make the kitchen light as day."
"We'll see, come night," replied Captain Enos.
The two were walking down the sandy path together,--Captain Enos bound forthe shore, and Anne started for Mistress Starkweather's to thank her forthe coral beads.
"Be a good child," said Captain Enos, as he turned from the path and leftAnne to go on alone.
As the little girl came near the spring, she saw a man rolling a watercask toward it, and toward the shore she could see several other men, whomshe knew came from the British ship. She looked closely at the man at thespring, and as she passed near him, noticed that his hair was red. Hesmiled and nodded as Anne went by, and then she saw that he had pleasantblue eyes, and she stopped and said: "Have you forgotten the little girlyou saved from the Indians?"
"No, indeed!" replied the big man heartily; "and so you are John Nelson'slittle girl. And you are not afraid of a Britisher?"
"Oh, no!" said Anne, in surprise; "you have two little maids in England."
"That I have, safe with their mother. But I should like well to see theirbright faces, and your father would like to see you, child. You do notforget him?"
"No," said Anne soberly. "We plan to write him a letter for you to take."
"Speak not so loud," cautioned the man; "the other sailors may hear. Andget your letter ready soon, for, come a fair wind, we'll be off up thecoast again to Boston Harbor."
"Do your little girls write you letters?" asked Anne.
The big man shook his head. "No, they are not yet taught to write," hesaid. "It may be I'll be sailing back come spring, and then I'll tell themabout the little maid I saw in Province Town."
"Tell them my name is Anne," said she eagerly. "I wish I could go toBoston and find my father. I must hurry now, but I wish I knew the namesof your little girls."
"They have good names," said the big man. "Each one is named for agrandmother. One is Betsey and the other Hannah."
"I'll remember," said Anne, and she said "Good-bye" and went quickly ontoward Mrs. Starkweather's.
"I do wish I could go and find my father," she thought as she walkedalong. "I know he'd like to see me better than a letter. I wish I hadasked William Trull to take me in the big ship. But maybe Aunt Marthawould not wish me to ask him."
All day Anne thought about the letter that Captain Enos had promised towrite for her; and when supper was over and the kitchen began to growdusky with the shadows of the October evening, she ran out to the littleshed and came tugging in a big root of pine.
"May I put this on the fire, Aunt Martha?" she asked, "that Uncle Enos maysee to write?"
"Tis a pine knot," said Mrs. Stoddard. "We shall need many such for lightand heat before the long winter goes. But put it on, child. 'Tis a goodplan to write thy father."
The pine knot blazed up brightly, and Captain Enos drew the table near theopen fire, and, with Anne perched on a high stool beside him, and Mrs.Stoddard busy with her knitting, while the white kitten purred happilyfrom its comfortable place under her chair, the letter was begun. Word forword, just as Anne told him, Captain Enos wrote down about the stockingsand shoes, the school and the kitten, the pink beads and William Trull,and at last Anne said: "That is all, only that I want to see him and thatI love him well," and Captain Enos finished the letter, and Anne wentup-stairs to bed.
"I have a plan to take a cargo of fish to Boston, Martha," said CaptainEnos, as soon as Anne had gone. "The 'Somerset' will sail on the firstfair wind. I can fill the sloop with good cod by the time she is out ofgunshot; and I'll venture to say they will bring a good price in BostonTown."
"But how can you make safe landing there, Enos?" asked his wifeanxiously.
"I'll manage," replied the captain smilingly, "and it may be I can getsome news of Anne's father."
"'Twould be a brave cruise," said Mrs. Stoddard. "I should like well to gowith thee, Enos."
Captain Enos laughed heartily. "And so would Anne, I dare say," hereplied. "Maybe when spring comes and the British have been sent home I'lltake you and Anne to Boston on a pleasure trip. If I get a good price formy fish, I'll bring you home a warm shawl, Martha."
"Mind not about me, Enos, but get some good wool cloth, if you see thechance, to make Anne a dress. She likes bright colors, and the Freemanswill tell you where to purchase, and you may see some plaid or figuredstuff that has good wearing in it. Three yards of good width will be aplenty."
"There's but little trading in Boston these days," replied Captain Enos;"there's a blight on the land, until we can make England give us fairertreatment. I do believe 'twill come to open war in Boston."
As they talked, Captain Enos was busy shaping the wooden doll which Annewas to give Amanda.
"I must finish this before I begin to plan for Boston," he said. "What didwe do for pleasure, Martha, before Anne came to live with us? Why, we hadnot even a white kitten. And 'twas little enough I thought of whittlingout dolls."
"Or I of knitting scarlet stockings," answered his wife. "Anne knits herstint each day, and will soon have hers done, but her second pair I amknitting for the child. November is close at hand, and then she must bewarmly clad."
"Her leather shoes are ready," said Captain Enos, with a satisfied nod.
The next morning Captain Enos gave the letter to William Trull, whopromised to find a chance of forwarding it to John Nelson.
"What think you, Anne?" said Mrs. Stoddard when the little girl came homefrom school that day. "The 'Somerset' is getting under way, and your UncleEnos says 'Tis like enough that your father will have the letter beforethe week ends."
"I wish I could see him read it," said Anne.
"And your Uncle Enos has a bold plan, child. He is filling up his sloopwith fine cod to take to the Boston market, and if this wind holds, hewill go sailing up the coast to-morrow morning. Mayhap he'll be in Bostonbefore the 'Somerset.'"
"But they will fire their big guns at him and sink the sloop!" said Annefearfully.
"Your uncle will not give them a chance," answered Mrs. Stoddard. "He willput in and out among the islands and keep out of their sight."
"May I not go with him, Aunt Martha? I could see my father then."
Mrs. Stoddard shook her head. "'Twould not be wise, child. Your unclewould not wish it. There would be but little chance of finding yourfather. Your uncle plans to make but a short stay and get home as soon asmay be. It is no time to be coasting about, with British ships ready tosink any craft they see. Here, see!" and she held something up in herhand.
"Oh, Amanda's doll!" exclaimed Anne, "and you have made a fine dress forher. Can I take it down now?" and the little girl took the wooden dollwhich Captain Enos had whittled out and looked at it admiringly.
"Yes, run along," replied Mrs. Stoddard; "'twill be a great surprise forAmanda."
Anne hurried down the hill and along the shore toward the Cary house,holding the doll carefully under the little shawl of gay plaid which Mrs.Stoddard had pinned about her shoulders. The sand no longer felt warmabout her bare feet.
"I shall be wearing my new stockings and shoes soon," she thought, as herfeet felt the cold dampness.
Amanda saw her coming and ran out to meet her, a white kitten close at herheels.
"See, the British ship is going!" exclaimed Amanda, and the two littlegirls turned and watched the big ship under full sail moving off acrossthe harbor.
"Amanda," said Anne, "you know you gave me the nice white kitten?"
"Yes," replied Amanda; "has it run away?"
"Oh, no; it is just as contented as can be," said Anne; "only ever sinceyou gave it to
me I have wished I could give you something."
Amanda's face flushed and she dug her bare toes into the sand. She wasremembering how unkind she and Amos had been to Anne, and was wishing thatAnne would not thank her for the kitten.
"And now I have a present for you," went on Anne, taking the wooden dollfrom beneath the little plaid shawl.
"Your doll!" exclaimed Amanda in surprise.
Anne shook her head smilingly.
"No," she said, "your doll. See, it is new. And it is larger than mine.Take it," for Amanda's hands were behind her, as if she did not mean totake the gift.
"It's yours. Uncle Enos made it, and Aunt Martha made the dress," and Anneheld the doll toward her friend.
Then Amanda's hands unclasped and reached forward eagerly.
"It's a fine doll," she said. "I do think, Anne, it is full handsomer thanyours. Come, that I may show it to my mother. I shall name it for you,Anne. I have already named it. I shall call it Lovely Anne Nelson. IndeedI shall. I never had a gift before." And Amanda held the doll tight andsmiled happily at Anne, as she reached out to draw her into the house thatMrs. Cary might see the doll.
When Anne started for home, Amanda walked along beside her for a littleway. When they neared the spring she put her arm about Anne's neck andkissed her on the cheek.
"There!" she exclaimed; "now you know how dear you are. I was bad to you,Anne Nelson, right here at this very spring; and I set Amos on to teaseyou. And now you have given me a gift."
"But you gave me the kitten," answered Anne, "and I chased you away fromthe spring with sand and water."
"But now we like each other well," said Amanda. "You like me now, Anne?"
"Yes," replied the little girl; "I would not give you a gift if I did notlike you well," and the two little girls smiled at each other happily andparted, Amanda to run home to her doll, while Anne went more slowly up thehill, thinking of the trip Uncle Enos was about to make and wishing thatshe could go with him.
"I could wear my scarlet stockings and new shoes for my father to see,"she thought, "and I would be no trouble to Uncle Enos. There are two bunksin the sloop's cabin, and I would be company for him."
The more Anne thought about this cruise to Boston the more she longed togo. Captain Enos was late to his supper that night.
"I have a fine cargo of fish," he said, "and I shall go out on the morningtide, before you are awake, little maid," with a nod to Anne. "Next springyou and Aunt Martha shall go with me and see the fine town of Boston, withits shops and great houses. The British soldiers will be gone by thattime, and it may be we will have our own government. There will be gooddays for us all then."
"I want to go now," said Anne, and Captain Enos laughed and shook hishead.
"Run away to bed now, child," said Aunt Martha, as soon as the supperdishes were washed, "and take these stockings up-stairs with you. I toedoff the last one while you were at Amanda Cary's."
So Anne said good-night, and Captain Enos gave her a good-bye kiss,telling her to take good care of her Aunt Martha while he was away, andwent slowly up-stairs. But she did not undress and go to bed. She sat downon the little wooden stool, her mind full of a great resolve. She satthere quietly until she heard Captain Enos and Mrs. Stoddard go to bed.Then she moved softly to the little table under which stood her new shoes.Taking these and her scarlet stockings, she crept softly down the stairs.Crossing the kitchen gently, she slid back the bolt, and let herself outinto the night.
There was a fresh wind from the southwest, and the little girl shivered alittle as she ran toward the shore. The sloop was anchored some littledistance from shore; Captain Enos would row out in his dory to her. AsAnne reached the shore and looked out at the sloop she almost lostcourage.
"I don't see how I can ever get out there without a boat," she exclaimedaloud.
"Out there?" the voice sounded close at her elbow, and Anne gave a jumpand looked around.
"What do you want to get out to Captain Enos's boat for?" asked JimmieStarkweather.
"Oh, Jimmie!" exclaimed the little girl, "what are you doing down on theshore in the night?"
"Night! Why, it's not much after dark," answered the boy. "Father has beenout fishing all day, and I have just pulled the dory up, and was goinghome when I heard you. What do you want to go out to the sloop for?"
"Jimmie, my father is in Boston and I do want to see him," said Anne."Captain Enos is going to sail early to-morrow morning for Boston, and Iwant to go out and sleep in the cabin to-night. Then I will keep as quietas I can till he is nearly in Boston, and then I will tell him all aboutit, and he will take me to see my father."
Jimmie shook his head.
"Doesn't Captain Enos want you to go?" he asked.
"He says I may go next spring," answered Anne, "but if you row me out tothe sloop, Jimmie, 'twould be no harm. You could tell Aunt Marthato-morrow, and I would soon be home. But 'Tis a long time since I saw myfather. You see yours every day."
There was a little sob in Anne's throat and Jimmie wondered if she wasgoing to cry. He hoped she wouldn't.
"Jump into the dory," he said. "I'll get a good lesson from my father,I'll warrant, for this; but jump in. And mind you tell Captain Enos that Itold you to go home, but that you would not."
"Yes, Jimmie," said Anne, putting her shoes and stockings into the boat,and then climbing in herself. The boy sprang in after her, pushed off thedory, and in a short time had reached the sloop.
"Now go straight to the cabin and shut the door," cautioned Jimmie, andAnne obeyed, creeping into the top bunk and pulling a rough blanket overher.
She heard the sound of Jimmie's oars, as he pulled toward shore, felt themotion of the tide, as the big sloop rose and fell, and soon was asleepand dreaming that her father and William Trull were calling her a bravelittle maid.
Jimmie had many misgivings after he reached shore, and made up his mind togo straight to Captain Stoddard and tell him of Anne's plan. Then heremembered that Anne had trusted him with her secret. "I guess I'll haveto let her go," he decided.