CHAPTER XVIII
HOME AGAIN
"Scotchie's" warning growl turned to a joyful greeting as Faith spokehis name.
"Great Caesar! Faith!" exclaimed her uncle, drawing her into thekitchen. "What on earth are you doing out-of-doors at this time ofnight?"
"You locked the door," whimpered Faith.
"But why did you not call out? We thought you went straight to bed,"said her uncle.
"I went down to the shore----" began Faith, and then stopped suddenly.
"Well, go straight to bed, and tell your aunt about it in the morning.She is fast asleep now."
Faith was glad to obey. She was too tired and sleepy to be greatlytroubled by what would happen in the morning. She had resolved that ifAunt Prissy questioned her she would tell the truth. But she hopedearnestly that in some way the secret could be kept even from heraunt and uncle, until Mr. Phelps should tell them.
When she came down to breakfast it appeared that her uncle had onlytold Aunt Prissy that Faith had run out after supper, and, instead ofcalling and knocking until some one opened the door, had waited until"Scotchie's" bark had brought him to the door.
Aunt Prissy was more surprised and alarmed at this news than Faith hadexpected. She cautioned Faith never to go out without telling some oneof the family.
"Why, some wolf or wildcat might have been about; or a party ofIndians might have happened along and taken you off," she said. "Andwe should never have known what had become of you."
Faith promised never again to leave the house without her aunt'spermission, and was glad indeed that she had escaped without tellingof her journey to the fort.
"Aunt Prissy! Do you know what day this is?" she asked, so soberlythat her aunt looked at her a little anxiously. "It is the very lastday of March; it has been a warm and pleasant month, and my father hasnot come for me."
"And are you so anxious to say good-bye to us, Faithie? You know thatinstead of your making a visit home your father has decided it is bestfor you to stay; not come back unless for a visit, until anotherautumn," responded Aunt Prissy.
"Yes, I know. But why does he not come?" persisted Faith.
"Perhaps to-day will bring him," Aunt Prissy answered hopefully.
Faith came and stood close beside Aunt Prissy's chair. She wanted tosay that she loved her cousins and uncle and Aunt Prissy very dearly;to tell her that she had been happy; and that it had been a beautifulvisit; but that now she wanted to see her own dear mother more thananything else. But how could she say all this so that Aunt Prissywould understand?
Aunt Prissy put down her knitting and drew the little girl into herlap.
"There! Now tell me all about it, dear," she said, resting her faceagainst Faith's yellow curls.
And Faith told her all that she had been thinking; all that she hadthought would be so difficult. And Aunt Prissy listened, saying, "Ofcourse," and "Yes, indeed," from time to time, and understanding evenmore than Faith found words to tell.
"Why, Aunt Prissy, it's almost like having two homes," concludedFaith.
Before Aunt Prissy could answer there was the sound of voices in thekitchen, and Donald, closely followed by Mr. Carew, came into theroom.
"It's the very last day of March!" Faith reminded him.
"And I came near not getting here to-day," her father replied, asFaith drew him to the big chair near the window, and climbed to a seaton his knees. "I was held up on the trail by a tall fellow, fromConnecticut, as it proved. He was bound to make me own up that I wasan English spy. I told him my name, and my errand, and when I spokeFaith's name, why, he was at once my best friend, told me of his visitat this house, and could not say enough in praise of my littledaughter," responded Mr. Carew.
"The Americans seem to be gaining courage," said Aunt Prissy. "The menof the Wilderness do not mean to let the other Colonies do all thefighting, I'm sure."
"Indeed we'll do our part, Priscilla," her brother assured her.
Faith told her father of the disappearance of Mr. Trent and Louise; ofthe quilting party, and of all the happenings since his Novembervisit. But she did not tell him of guiding the Connecticut man to thepathway up the cliff to Fort Ticonderoga.
It was evident that Mr. Phelps had kept the secret for some purpose ofhis own; so, much as she wanted her father to know, Faith resolvedthat she would not tell him. This secret did not worry and trouble heras the others had done. "I guess it's because this secret meanshelping somebody, and the others were just--well, just mean secrets,"Faith decided, as she thought it over.
The next morning Faith and her father were ready to start at an earlyhour. Uncle Phil, Aunt Prissy, the boys and "Scotchie" walked withthem to the shore.
"You will come back when summer comes, won't you, Cousin Faith?" saidDonald. "You'll come for a visit even if you don't stay and go toschool."
"I will if I can," Faith promised, "and when Louise comes back giveher the blue beads, Aunt Prissy."
"Yes, indeed, dear child," responded her aunt, wondering to herself ifLouise and her father would ever again be seen in that vicinity. Thenthere were messages for Faith's mother, and not until she was in thecanoe were the good-byes really said.
The little group stood on the shore watching the canoe for someminutes, and then turned back toward the house. They were all veryquiet, but as they reached the road Donald called out: "There'ssomebody on our door-step! Why, it is Louise! Yes, it is," and with agay call he was off, running swiftly toward the house while the othershurried after him.
"Where is Faith?" Louise asked eagerly, when Mrs. Scott had welcomedher, and they were in the big kitchen.
"She's gone home," said Donald, before his mother could answer. ButMrs. Scott told the little girl of how much Faith had missed her, andof the string of blue beads that she had left to be given to Louise.
It was evident that Louise was greatly disappointed to find that herfriend had gone. But she fastened the beads about her neck, andtouched them with loving fingers.
"Faith was my very first friend," she said. "My father says that wehave come back to stay," she added, "and perhaps Faith will come inthe summer?" There was such a pleading, questioning look in the girl'sdark eyes that Mrs. Scott felt a new tenderness and sympathy for her,and put her arm about Louise as she answered:
"Perhaps she will. But you must come often and see me; for we shallboth miss her very much."
"Oh, may I, Mrs. Scott? I was afraid you wouldn't want me to come,"and Louise's face brightened.
"Why, I am to help you with your studies, and Donald is to call foryou when you begin school. Faith arranged all that," responded Mrs.Scott smilingly.
Faith was silent as the canoe went swiftly across the lake, and theyhad nearly reached the shore before she began asking questions about"Bounce," whom her father declared to be now a "grown-up cat," andabout all the familiar things about the house and mill.
"Listen, father!" she said, as they landed, and he drew the canoe toits hiding-place in the alder bushes. "Hear the falls!" and for amoment the two stood quietly hearkening to the "Chiming Waters."
Then Mr. Carew adjusted the pack, containing Faith's belongings,picked up his musket, without which no woodsman dared travel in thosedays, and they started up the trail.
Everywhere were evidences that spring was near at hand. Many treesand shrubs were showing the delicate gray green of coming buds; andnow and then the fragrance of the wild arbutus was in the air. Birdswere busy; wood-thrushes and pewees were calling; now and then agolden-throated warbler sounded his clear note. The air was soft andwarm for the season, and Faith was so happy in the thought of beingreally on her way home that she forgot for a time that Mr. Phelps hadsaid that no American settler's home in the Wilderness could be safeuntil Fort Ticonderoga was held by American soldiers.
"It's lovely to be going home, isn't it, father?" she said; and Mr.Carew smiled down at his little daughter, and agreed with her thatnothing better could be desired.
"We shall see with glad surprise
Lilies spring, and verdure rise; And soon, amidst the wilds, we'll hear Murmuring waters falling clear,"--
sang Mr. Carew softly.
"Oh, that is mother's song," exclaimed Faith. "It just means home,doesn't it?" And again her father was quite ready to agree.
They walked slowly up the rocky trail and when they reached the top ofthe first ridge they stopped to rest and eat the excellent lunch thatAunt Prissy had prepared for them. But Faith declared that she was nottired. It seemed to her that she could run all the way if her fatherwould only permit. And when in the early afternoon she first heard thesound of the mill-stream she did run, until, out of breath, she had torest on a moss-grown stump for her father to catch up with her.
And then, in a short time, they were standing on the edge of theclearing. The brook was dancing and singing as if eager to welcomeFaith; the sun shone warmly down on mill and cabin and running downthe path came Mrs. Carew; while standing near the cabin was Kashaqua,in her gayest feathers, grunting and smiling.
"Mother dear! Mother dear!" called Faith, as she ran forward and washeld close in her mother's arms.