CHAPTER X
THE MAJOR'S DAUGHTERS
The day that school began Faith returned home to find that a letterfrom her mother and father had arrived. It was a long letter, tellingthe little girl of all the happenings since her departure at thepleasant cabin in the Wilderness. Her father had shot a deer, whichmeant a good supply of fresh meat. Kashaqua had brought the good newsof Faith's arrival at her aunt's house; and, best of all, her fatherwrote that before the heavy snows and severe winter cold began heshould make the trip to Ticonderoga to be sure that his littledaughter was well and happy.
But there was one sentence in her mother's letter that puzzled Faith."Your father will bring your blue beads," her mother had written, andFaith could not understand it, for she was sure Esther had the beads.She had looked in the box in the sitting-room closet after Esther'sdeparture, hoping that Esther might have put them back beforestarting for home, but the box had been empty.
"Who brought my letter, Uncle Phil?" she questioned, but her uncle didnot seem to hear.
"Father got it from a man in a canoe when we were down at the shore.The man hid----"
"Never mind, Hugh. You must not repeat what you see, even at home,"said Mr. Scott.
So Faith asked no more questions. She knew that the Green MountainBoys sent messengers through the Wilderness; and that Americans allthrough the Colonies were kept notified of what the English soldiersstationed in those northern posts were doing or planning. She was surethat some such messenger had brought her letter; and, while shewondered if it might have been her friend Ethan Allen, she had learnedsince her stay in her uncle's house that he did not like to bequestioned in regard to his visitors from across the lake.
"I'll begin a letter to mother dear this very night, so it will be allready when father comes," she said, thinking of all she longed to tellher mother about Louise, the school and her pretty new dresses.
"So you did not bring your beads," said Aunt Prissy, as she read Mrs.Carew's letter. "Did you forget them?"
Faith could feel her face flush as she replied: "No, Aunt Prissy." Shewished that she could tell her aunt just why she had felt obliged togive them to Esther Eldridge, and how puzzled she was at her mother'sreference to the beads. Faith was already discovering that a secretmay be a very unpleasant possession.
As she thought of Esther, she recalled that her aunt had spoken ofLouise as "mischievous," and Faith was quite sure that Louise wouldnever have accepted the beads or have done any of the troublesomethings that had made the first days of Esther's visit so difficult.
"Louise isn't mischievous," she declared suddenly. "What made youthink she was, Aunt Prissy?"
Aunt Prissy was evidently surprised at this sudden change of subject,but she replied pleasantly:
"I ought not to have said such a thing; but Louise has improved everyday since you became her friend. How does she get on in her learningto read?"
For Faith stopped at the shoemaker's house every day on her way homefrom school to teach Louise; and "Flibbertigibbet," as her fathergenerally called her, was making good progress.
"She learns so quickly," replied Faith, "and she is learning to write.I do wish she would go to school, Aunt Prissy," for Louise had becomealmost sullen at the suggestion.
Faith did not know that Louise had appeared at the schoolhouse severalyears before, and had been so laughed at by some of the rough childrenof the village that she had turned on them violently and they had notdared come near her since. They had vented their spite, however, incalling, "Witch! Witch! Fly home on your broomstick," as Louisehobbled off toward home, vowing that never again would she go near aschool, and sobbing herself to sleep that night.
Aunt Prissy had heard something of the unfortunate affair, and wasglad that Louise, when next she appeared at school, would have somelittle knowledge to start with and a friend to help her.
"Perhaps she will go next term, now that she has a girl friend to gowith her," responded Mrs. Scott.
Faith was making friends with two girls whose seats in the schoolroomwere next her own. Their names were Caroline and Catherine Young.Faith was quite sure that they were two of the prettiest girls in theworld, and wondered how it was possible for any one to make suchbeautiful dresses and such dainty white ruffled aprons as these twolittle girls wore to school. The sisters were very nearly of an age,and with their soft black curls and bright brown eyes, their flouncedand embroidered dresses with dainty collars of lace, they looked verydifferent from the more suitably dressed village children.
Caroline was eleven, and Catherine nine years old. But they were farin advance of the other children of the school.
They lost no time in telling Faith that their father was an Englishofficer, stationed at Fort Ticonderoga; and this made Faith look atthem with even more interest. Both the sisters were rather scornful intheir manner toward the other school children. As Faith was anewcomer, and a stranger, they were more cordial to her.
"You must come to the fort with us some day," Caroline suggested, whenthe little girls had known each other for several weeks; and Faithaccepted the invitation with such eagerness that the sisters looked ather approvingly. Their invitations to some of the other children hadbeen rudely refused, and the whispered "Tories" had not failed toreach their ears.
"We like you," Caroline had continued in rather a condescendingmanner, "and we have told our mother about you. Could you go to thefort with us to-morrow? It's Saturday."
"Oh, yes; I'm sure I may. I have wanted to go to the fort ever since Icame. You are real good to ask me," Faith had responded gratefully, tothe evident satisfaction of the English girls who felt that this newlittle girl knew the proper way to receive an invitation.
It was settled that they would call for Faith early on Saturdayafternoon.
"I may go, mayn't I, Aunt Prissy?" Faith asked, as she told her auntof the invitation, and was rather puzzled to find that Aunt Prissyseemed a little doubtful as to the wisdom of permitting Faith visitingthe fort with her new friends.
"It is a mile distant, and while that is not too long a walk, I do notlike you to go so far from home with strangers," she said; but onFaith's declaring that the sisters were the best behaved girls inschool, and that she had promised to go, Mrs. Scott gave her consent;and Faith was ready and waiting when Caroline and Catherine arrived,soon after dinner on Saturday.
"Is your father an officer?" asked Caroline, as the little girlsstarted off.
Faith walked between her new friends, and looked from one to the otherwith admiring eyes.
"No, my father is a miller. And he owns a fine lot of land, too," sheanswered smilingly.
"Our father is a major. He will go back to Albany in the spring, andthat is a much better place to live than this old frontier town," saidCatherine. "We shan't have to play with common children there."
Faith did not quite know what Catherine meant, so she made noresponse, but began telling them of her own journey through thewilderness and across the lake. But her companions did not seem muchinterested.
"Your uncle is just a farmer, isn't he?" said Caroline.
"Yes, he is a farmer," Faith replied. She knew it was a fine thing tobe a good farmer, so she answered smilingly. But before the fort wasreached she began to feel that she did not like the sisters as well aswhen they set out together. They kept asking her questions. Did hermother have a silver service? and why did her aunt not have servants?As they neared the fort Catherine ran to her sister's side andwhispered in her ear. After that they kept close together, walking alittle way ahead of Faith. At the entrance to the fort Faith wassomewhat alarmed to find a tall soldier, musket in hand. But hesaluted the little girls, and Faith followed her companions along thenarrow passageway. She wondered to herself what she had done to offendthem, for they responded very stiffly to whatever she had to say. Thenarrow passage led into a large open square, surrounded by high walls.Faith looked about with wondering eyes. There were big cannons, stacksof musketry, and many strange things whose name or use she c
ould notimagine. There were little groups of soldiers in red coats strollingabout.
"Where is your father, Catherine?" she asked, and then looked abouthalf fearfully; for both her companions had vanished.
None of the soldiers seemed to notice Faith For a moment she lookedabout with anxious eyes, and then decided that her friends must haveturned back to the entrance for some reason.
"And they probably think that I am right behind them," she thought,running toward an arched passageway which she believed was the one bywhich she had entered the fort. But it seemed much longer than whenshe came in a moment before. She began running, expecting to see thesisters at every step. Suddenly she found that she was facing a heavydoor at the end of the passage, and realized that she had mistaken herway. But Faith was not frightened. "All I have to do is to run back,"she thought, and turned to retrace her steps. But there were twopassageways opening behind her at right angles. For an instant shehesitated, and then ran along the one to the right.
"I'm sure this is the way I came," she said aloud. But as she went onthe passageway seemed to curve and twist, and to go on and on in anunfamiliar way. It grew more shadowy too. Faith found that she couldnot see very far ahead of her, and looking back it seemed even darker.She began to feel very tired.
"I'm sure Caroline and Catherine will come and find me," she thought,leaning against the damp wall of the passage. "I'll just rest aminute, and then I'll call so they will know which way to turn to findme."