A Yankee Girl at Fort Sumter by Alice Turner Curtis (e reader books txt) 📗
- Author: Alice Turner Curtis
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For an instant Sylvia stood quite still. She felt ready to cry, and now walked more slowly. For the first time she realized something of what it must be to be a colored girl.
"If I had been Estralla he could have dragged me off and had me whipped," she thought. "Oh, I must get Mr. Robert Waite to let Estralla stay safe with us."
She was now near her destination, which proved to be a large house right on the street. She knocked at the door several times before it was opened. Then she found herself looking up at a tall man whose white hair and kindly smile gave her confidence.
"Well, little girl, whom do you wish to see?" he asked pleasantly.
"I have a message, I—" began Sylvia, her voice trembling a little.
"Are you Mr. Doane?"
"Yes; come in," and he held the door open for her to enter, and then closed and fastened it behind them.
Sylvia drew the letter from its hiding-place and handed it to him, and
Mr. Doane slipped it into his pocket.
"Come in, my child, and rest a moment; you are out of breath," he said, leading the way to a small room at the end of the narrow hall.
Sylvia was glad to sit down in a low chair near the table, while Mr. Doane opened the envelope. She could see that there was another letter enclosed, as well as the one which the tall man was reading with such interest.
When he had finished reading the letter he tore it into a great many small pieces. Then he put the enclosed envelope carefully in an inner pocket.
"So you brought me this letter from the fort. Well, you have done what I hope may prove a great service to the Stars and Stripes. I thank you," he said, looking with smiling eyes at the tired little figure in the brown cape.
Then he asked Sylvia her name, and she told him that no one, not even her dear mother, knew that she had brought the message. Before they had finished their talk he had heard all about the blue cockades that the girls had worn at Miss Patten's school, and of Sylvia's refusal to salute the palmetto flag.
"You see I couldn't do that, because it would mean that I believed that
Estralla ought to be a slave, and of course I don't believe such a
dreadful thing," she explained. So then Mr. Doane heard all about
Estralla and Aunt Connie.
Sylvia decided that she liked Mr. Doane even better than Captain Carleton. And when he told her again that by her courage in bringing him the message from the fort, and by her silence in regard to it, that she had done him a great service, as well as a service to those whose only wish for South Carolina was that the State should free herself from slavery, Sylvia forgot all about the long walk through the shadowy streets.
"I wish I had someone to send with you to see you home safely," Mr.
Doane said, a little anxiously, as they stood together in the little
hallway. "But I am known here, and I fear everything I do is watched.
So I must trust that you will be safely cared for."
Before Sylvia could reply, and say that she was not at all afraid to go alone, the outer door rattled as if someone were trying to push it open.
"You have been followed. Run back to the sitting-room," whispered Mr.
Doane. "I will open the door."
Sylvia, standing just inside the door of the small room, heard the outer door swing open. She heard Mr. Doane's sharp question, and then a familiar wail.
"Oh! It's Estralla!" she exclaimed, and ran back to the entry.
"It's Estralla! Oh! I'm so glad!" she said.
"Don' you be skeered, Missy Sylvia," said Estralla valiantly. "Dis yere man cyan't take you off'n sell you."
"All Estralla can think of is that somebody is going to be carried off and sold," Sylvia said, turning to Mr. Doane, who stood by looking very serious.
"How did you know where your little mistress was?" he questioned gravely. For if this little darky knew of Sylvia's errand he feared that she might tell others, and so Sylvia would have brought the message from the fort to little purpose. The letter, which was now in Mr. Doane's pocket, was to the Secretary of War in Washington, asking for permission for Major Anderson to take men to Fort Sumter, before the secessionists could occupy it.
"I follers Missy," explained Bstralla. "An' when that man grabs her on
King Street, I was gwine to chase right home an' get Massa Fulton, but
Missy talks brave at him, an' he lets go of her. Oh, Missy! What you
doin' of way off here?"
At this question Mr. Doane smiled, realizing that the little negro girl had no knowledge of the message which Sylvia had delivered.
"Well, Estralla, suppose Miss Sylvia came to try and help give you your freedom?" he asked.
"An' my mammy?" demanded Estralla eagerly.
"Why, of course," Mr. Doane replied. "For anything that helps to convince South Carolina that she is wrong will help to free the slaves," he added, turning to Sylvia.
"Now, Estralla, if you love Miss Sylvia, if you want to stay with your mammy, you must never tell of her visit here to-night. Remember!" and Mr. Doane's voice was very stern.
"Estralla won't tell," Sylvia declared confidently; "and I am glad she came to go home with me."
"Shuah I'll do jes' what Missy wants me to," said the little darky.
"Try to let Mrs. Carleton know that I received the letter, and that I hope to reach Washington safely," said Mr. Doane, as he bade Sylvia good-night.
As the door closed behind them Estralla clasped Sylvia's hand.
"Wat dat clock say?" she asked; for one of the city clocks was striking the hour.
"It's twelve o'clock," answered Sylvia.
"Oh! My lan', Missy! Dat's a terrible onlucky time fer us to be out," whispered Estralla. "Dat's de time w'en witch folks comes a-dancin' an' a-prancin' 'roun' and takes off chilluns."
Sylvia knew that all the negroes believed in witches and all sorts of impossible tales, so Estralla's words did not at all frighten her, but she did wish that she was safe in her own home. The streets were now dark and silent, and black shadows seemed to lurk at every corner as, hand in hand, Estralla and Sylvia ran swiftly along.
"I tells you, Missy, dat it's jes' lucky I comes after you, cos' witch-folks, w'at comes floatin' 'roun' 'bout dis hour of de night, dey ain't gwine to tech us; cos' when dey's two folks holdin' each other hands tight, jes' like we is, dey don't dast to tech us," said Estralla.
"Where were you, Estralla, when I came down-stairs?" Sylvia asked.
"I was jes' a-takin' a little sleep on de big rug side of your door, Missy. I'se been a-sleepin' dere dis long time. My mammy lets me. An' when you opens de door I mos' calls out, but didn't. I jes' stan's up quick, so's you nebber know I was thar," and Estralla chuckled happily.
Sylvia wondered to herself why Estralla should choose such a hard bed. Then, suddenly, she realized all Estralla's devotion. That the little negro girl had slept there to be near her "fr'en'." She remembered the first time that she had ever seen Estralla, on the morning when she had tumbled in to Sylvia's room and broken the big pitcher, and that even then Estralla had been ready to confess and take the whipping that she was sure would follow, rather than let Sylvia be blamed. She recalled Estralla's effort to rescue her at Fort Sumter on the day Sylvia had run away from Miss Patten's school; and she remembered that it was Estralla who had told Miss Patten the real reason, and so saved her from further trouble.
"Estralla, you have been my true friend," she declared, "and I am going to remember it always. I am going to ask my mother to put a nice little bed for you in your mammy's cabin."
"Don' yo' do that, Missy. I likes sleepin' on de rug," pleaded Estralla.
"Hush, we must creep in without making any noise," responded Sylvia, in a whisper, for they were now directly in front of Sylvia's home.
Noiselessly Estralla led the way.
"Oh, Missy! de door is shut fas'," she whispered, as she endeavored to push it open.
"But it can't be shut," Sylvia answered.
Both the little girls pushed against it, but the door stood fast.
"Oh! What will we do?" half sobbed Sylvia, who was now very tired, and almost too sleepy to think of anything.
"We cyan't get in de back door. My mammy she'd wake up if a rabbit run twixt her cabin an' de kitchen," Estralla whispered back. "I 'spec's I'll hev' to climb up to de winder ober de porch, and comes down and let you in."
"Oh! Can you, Estralla?"
Sylvia's voice was very near to tears. She had forgotten all about the importance of the message she had safely delivered. All she wanted now was to be inside this dear safe house where her mother and father were sleeping, not knowing that their little girl, cold and sleepy, was shut out.
"I 'spec's I can," Estralla answered. "You jes' stay quiet, an' in 'bout four shakes of a lamb's tail I'se gwine to open de door, an' in yo' walks."
There was a little scrambling noise among the stout vines which ran up the pillars of the porch as Estralla started to carry out her plan. A cat, or a fluttering bird, would have hardly made more commotion. Sylvia listened eagerly. Suppose the porch window was fastened? she thought fearfully. It seemed a very long time before the front door opened, and Estralla reached out and clutched at the brown cape.
Noiselessly they crept up the stairs, Estralla leading the way. It was she who opened the door of Sylvia's room, and then with a whispered "Yo'se all right now, Missy," closed it behind her.
Sylvia hung up the brown cape in the closet, and slipped off her dress. She was soon in bed and fast asleep, and it was late the next morning before she awoke—so late that her father had breakfasted and gone to his warehouse; Estralla had been sent on an errand, and Mrs. Fulton decided that Sylvia should have a holiday.
"You seem tired, dear child," she said a little anxiously, as Sylvia said that she did not want to go to walk; that she had rather sit still.
"I guess I am tired," acknowledged the little girl, and was quite content to sit by the window with a story-book, instead of giving Estralla a lesson.
"If it had not been for Estralla I don't know what would have happened to me last night," she thought. She wondered who had closed and fastened the front door, but dared not ask.
Grace and Flora were to come early that afternoon, as soon after school as possible, and Flora had sent Sylvia a note that she would bring her lace-work and give her a lesson. By noon Sylvia felt rested, and was looking eagerly forward to her friends' visit. She began to feel that she was a very fortunate little girl to have had the chance to do something that might help, as Mr. Doane had said, to give the black people their freedom. She only wished that she could tell her mother and father of the midnight journey.
"But I will ask Mrs. Carleton the next time I go to the fort to let me tell Mother," she resolved.
CHAPTER XIII A HAPPY AFTERNOONGrace was the first to arrive, and she declared that she wished that she was in Sylvia's place and need not go to school another day.
The two little friends stood at the window watching for Flora, and it was not long before they saw her coming up the walk, closely followed by her black "Mammy," who was carrying two baskets. One of these seemed very heavy.
"What can be in Mammy's basket, I wonder?" said Grace. "And, look, Sylvia! Flora isn't wearing the blue cockade! That's because she is coming to visit you. She had it on at school this morning."
Flora wore the same pretty velvet turban which she had
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