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where the boat was fastened.

Mr. Fulton was beginning to find his position as a northern man in Charleston rather uncomfortable. Many of his southern friends firmly believed that the northern men had no right to tell them that slavery was wrong and must cease. He wished to protect his business interests, or he would have returned to Boston; for it was difficult for him not to declare his own patriotic feeling that Abraham Lincoln, who had just been elected President of the United States, would never permit slavery to continue.

Mr. Fulton sent a darky with a message to Sylvia's mother that he was taking the little girl for a sail to the forts, and in a short time they were on board the Butterfly, as Sylvia had named the white sloop, and were going swiftly down the harbor.

"May I steer?" asked Sylvia, and Mr. Fulton smilingly agreed. He was very proud of his little daughter's ability to sail a boat, and although he watched her shape the boat's course, and was ready to give her any needed assistance, he was sure that he could trust her.

As they sailed past Fort Sumter Sylvia could see men at work repairing the fortifications. Over both forts waved the Stars and Stripes.

She made a skilful landing at Fort Moultrie, greatly to the admiration of the sentry on guard. Mr. Fulton and Sylvia went directly to the officer's quarters, which were in the rear of the fort, and where Mrs. Carleton gave Sylvia a warm welcome. She asked the little girl about her school and Sylvia told her what had happened that morning.

"I am not surprised," said Captain Carleton. "I expect any day that Charleston men will take Fort Sumter, and fly the palmetto flag, instead of the Stars and Stripes. If Major Anderson had his way we would have a stronger force in Fort Sumter, and that is greatly needed."

Major Anderson was the officer in command at Fort Moultrie. He was a southern man, but a true and loyal officer of the United States.

When Captain Carleton and Mr. Fulton went out Mrs. Carleton asked Sylvia if she was sorry to leave the school, and if she liked her schoolmates. Sylvia was eager to tell her of all the good times she had enjoyed with Grace and Flora, and declared that they were her true friends. Then she told Mrs. Carleton about Estralla, and of her resolve that the little darky girl should not be separated from Aunt Connie.

"Your best plan, then, will be to go and see Mr. Robert Waite and ask him. He is a kind-hearted man, and perhaps he will promise you to let the child stay with her mother. I hope it will not be long now before all the slaves will be set free," said Mrs. Carleton.

Before Sylvia could respond Captain Carleton came hurrying into the room. He had a letter in his hand, and asked Sylvia to excuse Mrs. Carleton for a moment, and they left the room together. In a few moments Mrs. Carleton returned alone, and Sylvia heard Captain Carleton say: "It is worth trying."

"My dear Sylvia, I want you to do something for me; it is not really for me," she added quickly, "it is for the United States. Something to help keep the flag flying over these forts."

"Oh, can I do something like that?" Sylvia asked eagerly.

"Yes, my dear. Now, listen carefully. Here is a letter which Major Anderson wants delivered to a gentleman who will start for Washington to-morrow. If anyone from this fort should be seen visiting that gentleman he would not be allowed to leave Charleston as he plans. If your father, even, should call upon him it would create suspicion. So I am going to ask you to carry this letter to the address written on the envelope, and you must give it into his own hands to-night. Not even your own father will know that you have this letter; so if he should be questioned or watched he will be able to deny knowing of its existence. Are you willing to undertake it?"

"Yes! Yes!" promised Sylvia. "I will carry it safely. The gentleman shall have the letter to-night," and she reached out her hand to take it.

But Mrs. Carleton shook her head. "No, my dear, I will pin it safely inside your dress. It would not do for you to be seen leaving the fort with a letter in your hand."

CHAPTER XI SYLVIA CARRIES A MESSAGE

Mrs. Fulton did not seem surprised to hear of Sylvia's dismissal from Miss Patten's school because of her failure to salute the palmetto flag. She did not say very much of the occurrence that afternoon, when Sylvia returned from the fort, for she wanted Sylvia to think as pleasantly as possible of her pretty teacher. But she was surprised that Sylvia herself did not have more to say about the affair.

But Sylvia's own thoughts were so filled by the mysterious letter which was pinned inside her dress, with wondering how she could safely deliver it without the knowledge of anyone, that she hardly thought of school. For the time she had even forgotten Estralla.

"What do you say to becoming a teacher yourself, Sylvia dear?" her mother asked, as they sat together in the big sunny room which overlooked the harbor.

"When I grow up?" asked Sylvia.

Mrs. Fulton smiled. Sylvia "grown up" seemed a long way in the future.

"No—that is too far away," she answered. "I was thinking that perhaps you would like to teach Estralla to read and write. You could begin to-morrow, if you wished."

"Yes, indeed! Mother, you think of everything," declared Sylvia. "Why, that will be better than going to school!"

"But we must not let your own studies be neglected," her mother reminded her, "so after you have given Estralla a morning lesson each day you and I will study together and keep up with Grace and Flora. By the way, Flora was here just before you and your father reached home; she was very sorry not to see you, and I have asked Flora and Grace to come to supper to-morrow night."

Sylvia began to think that a world without school was going to be a very pleasant world after all. She was sure that it would be great fun to teach Estralla, and to have lessons with her mother was even better than reciting to pretty Miss Rosalie; and, beside this, her best friends were coming to supper the next night, so she had many pleasant things to think of, which was exactly what her mother had planned. Her father had said that she might ask Grace to go sailing with them in the Butterfly in a day or two; and now Sylvia resolved to ask if she might not ask Flora as well, and perhaps Estralla could go, too. So it was no wonder that she ran up-stairs singing:

"There's a good time coming, It's almost here,"—

greatly to the satisfaction of her father and mother, who had feared that she would be very unhappy over the school affair. They were sorry it had happened, but they could not blame Sylvia.

"Oh, Missy Sylvia, here I is," and as Sylvia set her candle on the table, Estralla stood smiling before her.

"Oh!" exclaimed Sylvia with such surprise that the little darky looked at her wonderingly.

"Yo' tells me to come, an' here I is," she repeated. "You tells me," and Estralla sniffed as if ready to give her usual wails, "that you'se gwine to stop my bein' sold off from my mammy. How you gwine to stop it, Missy?"

For a moment Sylvia was tempted to tell Estralla that it couldn't be helped, as long as South Carolina believed in slavery. But Estralla's sad eyes and pleading look made her resolve again to protect this little slave girl against injustice. So she replied quickly:

"That is my secret. But don't you worry. Some day, very soon, I shall tell you all about it. You know, Estralla, that you need not be afraid. And what do you think! I am not going to school any more."

Estralla's face had brightened. She was always quite ready to smile, but she could not understand why Sylvia had wanted her to come so mysteriously to her room.

"And I am going to teach you to read and write," Sylvia added.

"Is you, Missy?" Estralla responded in a half-frightened whisper. Now, she thought, she knew all about Missy Sylvia's reasons for the secret visit. For very few slave-owners allowed anyone to teach the slaves to read and write. Estralla knew this, and it seemed a wonderful thing that Missy Sylvia proposed.

"I'll tell you all about it to-morrow morning," said Sylvia; "now run away," and with a chuckle of delight Estralla closed the door softly behind her. She had been quite ready to run away with Missy Sylvia when she had crept up the stairs earlier in the evening. But to stay safely with her mammy and learn to read seemed a much happier plan to the little darky. If she could read and write! Why, it would be almost as wonderful as it would to be a little white girl, she thought.

Now Sylvia realized, as she stood alone in her safe, pleasant chamber, that as soon as possible she must deliver the letter entrusted to her. If it was to go to Washington it must be some message that was of importance to the officers at Fort Moultrie and Fort Sumter, she thought. Perhaps it might even be something that would help Carolinians to give up slavery; and then Estralla and Aunt Connie, and all the black people she knew and liked, could be safe and have homes of their own.

Sylvia went to the window and peered out. The street and garden lay dark and shadowy. Now and then a dark figure went along the street. The house seemed very quiet. She tiptoed to the closet and took out a brown cape. It was one which she wore on stormy days, and nearly covered her. Then from one of the bureau drawers she drew out a long blue silk scarf, and twisted it about her head.

"I can pull the end over my face, and they'll think I'm a darky," she thought, resolved if anyone spoke to her not to answer.

She whispered over the name and address on the letter. She knew that the street led from King Street, and she was sure that she could find it. But it was some distance from home; it would be late before she could get back.

She blew out her candle, opened her chamber door and stood listening. She could not hear a sound, and tiptoed cautiously along the hall to the stairs. What if the door of her mother's room should open, she thought, terrified at such a possibility. What could she say? She had promised not to tell of the letter, and what reason could she give for creeping out of the house at that hour?

But she reached the lower floor safely, and now came the danger of making a noise when opening the door. Sylvia grasped the big key and turned it slowly. Then she pulled at the heavy door, and it swung back easily. She gave a long breath of relief as she stepped out on the piazza. She left the door ajar, so that she could slip in easily on her return. Keeping in the shadow of the trees she reached the street, and now she felt sure that nothing could prevent her from delivering the letter.

She ran swiftly along, now and then meeting someone who glanced wonderingly at the flying little figure. She had reached King Street and was nearly at the street where she was to turn, when suddenly a heavy hand grasped her arm and nearly swung her from her feet.

"Running off, are you? And wearing your mistress's clothes at that,
I'll warrant," said a gruff voice. "Wall, now, whose darky are you?"

Sylvia pulled the silken scarf from her face, and even in the glimmer of the dull street-lamp under which the man had drawn her he could see the auburn hair and blue eyes. But he still kept his grasp on her arm. There were slaves who were not black, he knew, and "quality white" girls were not running about Charleston streets alone at night.

"What is your name?" he demanded.

Sylvia looked at him resentfully. "How dare you grab me like this?" she demanded. "Let me go."

The man released his grasp instantly. No darky girl or slave would

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