“Dear Mr. Colonel Ethan Allen,” she wrote. “Will you please send the English soldiers away from Fort Ticonderoga? Nathan Beaman, who lives at Shoreham, will show you how to get in. Please send them soon, or more will come.“Respectfully your friend,“Faith Carew.”
“Dear Mr. Colonel Ethan Allen,” she wrote. “Will you please send the English soldiers away from Fort Ticonderoga? Nathan Beaman, who lives at Shoreham, will show you how to get in. Please send them soon, or more will come.
“Respectfully your friend,
“Faith Carew.”
She had time to fold and seal the letter with the big stick of red wax, softening the wax before the sitting-room fire. A moment later and her mother came in, saying she had best go to bed and get a good night’s rest.
“May I spend to-morrow, all day, with Esther?” asked Faith, as her mother went up-stairs with her, and feeling her face flush with the consciousness of not telling her mother all the truth.
“Your very first day at home, dear child! Why, I should be running over to Mrs. Eldridge’s every hour to make sure that you were really within reach,” responded her mother.
“Oh, mother, you wouldn’t!” said Faith, so earnestly that Mrs. Carew smiled reassuringly and said:
“Well, perhaps not every hour. But if you want to spend the day with Esther you may. ’Tis not as if you were going back to Aunt Prissy in a week.”
“And you won’t come to Mrs. Eldridge’s at all, will you, mother dear?” pleaded Faith. “I’ll be safe, and I’ll come home early.”
“You shall do as you like, dear child. I know you will do nothing but what will pleaseme,” and Mrs. Carew leaned over to kiss Faith good-night.
“Oh, dear,” Faith whispered to herself guiltily, as her mother went down the stairs. “Here is another secret, the biggest of all. But I can’t tell mother.”
The song of the brook seemed louder than ever before to the little girl that night, as she lay watching the April stars shine through her window. She remembered that her mother had said that perhaps a little girl could help. “Mother dear is sure to be glad when she knows that Colonel Allen had to be told about Nathan,” thought Faith; and then the brook’s song grew softer and softer and she was fast asleep.
Faith was down-stairs the next morning almost as soon as her father and mother. She had on her brown dress and her moccasins, and the letter was safely hidden in her pocket. She could hardly keep still long enough to eat her breakfast.
“Esther wanted me to come early, mother dear, and I promised,” she urged; so her mother bade her be off, and stood in the door and watched the little girl run down the slope, feelinga little disappointed that Faith should be so eager to be with Esther instead of remaining at home.
But early as it was Faith found Esther waiting for her.
“Did you bring anything to eat?” asked Esther.
“I never thought of it!” replied Faith, “and I don’t believe I could, anyway.”
“Well, I thought of it. I have a fine square of corn cake, a piece of cold venison, and a square of molasses cake,” said Esther, holding up a small basket. “Now, creep along on the edge of the trail until we are well up the ridge. Then we can walk as we please.”
Faith obeyed. She thought to herself how fortunate it was that Esther had come to live in the Wilderness, and that she was ready to help carry the message.
“Isn’t it lovely in the woods!” said Esther, as they reached the summit of the ridge, and turned to look back down the winding trail. “Father said this morning that the spring was early, and ’tis surely warm as summer.”
As they rested for a little while on a bank of firm green moss Faith told Esther of“Nooski’s” sudden appearance when she and Kashaqua were on their journey to the lake.
“Goodness!” exclaimed Esther, peering anxiously into the underbrush. “I hope we shan’t see any bears to-day, not even a tame one.”
The sun was high in the April skies when the two little girls came in sight of Lake Dunmore. The trail led near the lake; and Esther was very sure that she knew just where to look for the cave.
“It’s near a big pine tree, and you can only see rocks. Father showed me when we came from Brandon,” she said.
The little girls were very tired and hungry, and Faith suggested that they should eat their luncheon and rest before searching for the cave.
“I wish I had brought more corn bread,” said Esther, when they had finished the last morsel of the food.
“It’s lucky you brought as much as you did,” responded Faith. “We’d better begin looking for the cave now.”
It was hard work climbing up the rocky hillside, and it did not seem such an easy matter to locate the cave as Esther had expected. Theypeered under rocks, and climbed over ledges, and were nearly discouraged when a sudden noise made Faith grasp Esther’s arm with a whispered “Hush”; for almost in front of them, apparently coming directly out of the hillside, appeared the head and shoulders of a man. But they were too near to conceal themselves or to try and run away.
“Great Cæsar’s Ghost!” exclaimed the man, crawling out from the cave. “Two little maids! Where did you come from?”
Faith’s hold on Esther’s arm tightened. “Don’t tell. Don’t answer his questions,” she whispered, remembering her mother’s caution about strangers, and thinking perhaps this might be an English spy who had discovered the cave.
“Where are the others?” asked the man.
Esther looked questioningly at Faith, but neither of them spoke.
The man’s stern face softened as he looked at the two little figures. He realized they must be the children of some settler in the Wilderness—perhaps children who had wandered too far from home and lost their way.
“You need not be afraid to speak,” he saidsmilingly. “Perhaps I know your fathers. Tell me your names.”
Faith was quite sure that this was a question which could be safely answered, so both the little girls spoke their names, and instantly the man responded by saying:
“Then you,” and he nodded to Faith, “are Miller Carew’s daughter. I know your father well. Tell him Seth Warner has been in Salisbury and is now starting back to Bennington. But how come you this distance from home?”
Both Faith and Esther knew that Seth Warner was a friend of the settlers, and before he had finished speaking Faith was quite ready to tell him their errand and to give the note for Colonel Allen into his hands.
He listened in evident amazement to the story of their morning’s journey, for he well knew the dangers of the wilderness trail.
“I will go with you to within sight of your homes,” insisted their new friend, “and I shall not forget to tell Colonel Allen of your courage.”
“Will he come soon and take the fort?” asked Faith.
“More quickly for your help than without it, little maid. But go not so far from home again,” Mr. Warner answered, with a kindly smile.
It was sunset, and Mr. Carew was starting to bring Faith home from her visit to Esther, when he saw his little daughter coming down the path. She walked so slowly that her father hastened to meet her.
“I’m so tired, father,” she said. “Couldn’t you carry me home?”
“Of course I can,” and he lifted her in his arms and, anxious and worried by her pale face and evident fatigue, hurried toward the house.
Itwas noon the next day when Faith awoke; and although she was quite ready to dress and go down-stairs, her mother thought it best for her to stay in bed.
Faith wondered to herself if Esther’s feet ached as hers did; and, more than this, she was anxious to know if their parents had any idea of where she and Esther had spent the previous day.
“There will be so much for me to tell mother,” she thought, a little uneasily, hoping that soon she would again have no secrets to conceal.
When Faith came down-stairs she found Esther waiting to see her; and, in response to Faith’s questioning look, she nodded and smiled reassuringly. Esther had brought over her English grammar, for it had been decided that the two little girls were to study together two hours each day; one day at Faith’s house, and the next at Esther’s.
“It’s all right; our mothers don’t know. But what made you so tired?” said Esther, as soon as the girls were alone.
Faith shook her head. “I don’t know. I do hope we can tell all about it soon. I’ve a great mind to tell mother now.”
“You mustn’t. Don’t you remember? Mr. Warner said that soon he would tell our fathers, and they would be proud of us. But if we tell them now they won’t be proud; they will be vexed, and maybe punish us. Wait until Colonel Allen tells them that you helped him. Then ’twill be all right,” advised Esther, and Faith agreed, a little doubtfully.
It was difficult for the two little girls to fix their minds on their lessons that day, and for many days to come. They both watched the trail, each day expecting to see some messenger who would bring news that Colonel Allen was in possession of Fort Ticonderoga; but April passed, and Esther declared that she did not believe the Americans wanted the fort.
“I am going to tell my mother everything. All about our going to Lake Dunmore, and my letter, and something else,” declared Faith.
It was one day early in May, and she andEsther were coming up from Beaver meadow, where they had been watching the little creatures, who were very active and did not seem to fear the two little figures at the edge of the woods. The beavers were building a dam; they had dragged trees to the side of the stream, and it seemed a very wonderful thing to Esther when she saw the beavers sink one end of these stakes, while others raised and fastened the other end, twisting in the small branches of the trees, and plastering mud over all with their feet and tails. She was thinking to herself that there were more strange things to see in the Wilderness in one day than in a whole year in a village, when she felt Faith seize her arm and say laughingly:
“You haven’t heard a word. Now, listen! I am going to tell my mother.”
The little girls were now in sight of the clearing, and, before Esther could answer, Faith stopped suddenly and exclaimed:
“Look, Esther! There’s a man just leaving the mill, and running up the trail as fast as he can go. A stranger.”
Quite forgetting beavers and secrets the two little girls ran toward the house. “There’s my father,” said Esther as they reached the door.
Mr. and Mrs. Eldridge were both in the kitchen of the Carew house, and none of the elder people appeared to notice the two girls.
Mr. Carew was loading his musket, and Faith’s mother was packing a knapsack with provisions.
“Here are the children,” said Mrs. Eldridge, as she turned toward the door; and then Esther saw that her father was waiting for Mr. Carew.
“Faithie dear, your father is going to Castleton,” said Mrs. Carew, fastening the knapsack, and in a moment Faith was held close in her father’s arms, and then the two men were off, striding down the trail.
“Are they going to take Ticonderoga?” Faith questioned eagerly.
The two women looked at her in surprise, but Mrs. Carew answered quickly:
“Of course they are. Americans are guarding the trail, so we are safe enough at present. But neither of you girls must go beyond the clearing.”
“When shall we know about the fort, mother? When will we know?” asked Faith.
“Soon, I hope, child. But talk not of it now,” responded her mother.
But after a little Mrs. Eldridge told them that a messenger had come from Bennington, summoning the settlers to Castleton to meet Colonel Allen. Faith and Esther listened to the story of the far-off battle of Lexington, in Massachusetts, the news of which had determined the Green Mountain Boys to make an immediate attack on the fort. These men were the settlers of the New Hampshire Grants, living long distances apart, and obliged to travel over rough trails, through deep forests, across rivers and mountains.
There were no smooth roads or fleet horses to help them on their way; there was little time for preparation when Allen’s summons came; they had no uniforms, no strains of music; but no truer soldiers ever faced danger than the Green Mountain Boys.
That night Faith told her mother the story of her adventure in the fort, when Nathan had rescued her and taken her down the cliff. She told of the evening in March when she had guided Mr. Phelps along the moonlit shore of the lake and told him of the entrance to the fort; and last of all she described her journey with Esther over the trail to Lake Dunmore,and the letter to Ethan Allen which she had given to Seth Warner.
Mrs. Carew listened in amazement; but she had no word of blame for Faith. She realized the dangers the child had so unknowingly faced with a sense that her little girl had been guarded by a protection greater than any by which she could have surrounded her; and she wondered, too, if it were not possible that Faith might not really have helped in the great undertaking for which her father was ready to give all that he had to give.
“Mother dear, I despise secrets,” Faith whispered, as she finished the story, “and I mean never to have another one.”
Three days later Mr. Carew came swinging across the clearing. He waved his cap in the air as Faith came running to meet him.
“Ticonderoga is ours,” he called, “and the English prisoners are on their way to Hartford. And so it was you, little maid, who helped Phelps to a plan of the fort, and told Ethan Allen of young Beaman!”
“Did it help, father? Did it help?” Faith asked eagerly.
“Help? Indeed it did. Young Beaman led the way to the fort, and we were in without firing a shot. And Colonel Allen and his men hold the fort,” replied Mr. Carew.
He could stay for but a few hours, as he was carrying the news to the settlements. It was several days before he was at home again, and told them more fully of Allen’s triumph, and of the capture of Crown Point by Seth Warner and his followers.
Toward the last of May Aunt Prissy, accompanied by Nathan Beaman, arrived at the log cabin, and Faith heard the story of Louise’s arrival at Ticonderoga.
“Her father has been taken a prisoner to Hartford, and Louise will stay with me,” Aunt Prissy said. “I will adopt her for my own daughter if her father consents.”
“I do hope he will,” said Faith, glad indeed to know that her friend was safe.
“And so my little Faith did help take the fort after all, thanks to Nathan,” said Aunt Prissy, smiling down at her little niece.
“’Twas Faith who really helped, for she told Colonel Allen about me,” Nathan added handsomely.
All this made Faith a very happy littlegirl; but when, a few weeks later, a messenger brought her a letter from Ethan Allen himself, she felt that no other little girl in all the American Colonies could be as proud as Faith Carew. She confessed to her mother that, after all, some secrets were worth keeping. Colonel Allen invited her to make a visit to the fort, and it was arranged that her father should take her to Ticonderoga and that she should stay for a few days with Aunt Prissy.
So once again she went over the trail and crossed the lake, and on a pleasant June morning with her father and Aunt Prissy, she stood again at the entrance to Fort Ticonderoga. This time she was not left alone, as on her first visit, a frightened deserted child. For it was Colonel Allen himself, tall and handsome, who met the little party at the entrance and escorted them about the fortifications.
“‘Faith,’” he said kindly, as he bade them good-bye, “’tis indeed the best of names for a little American girl; a name that I shall ever remember.”
Faith was very quiet as they walked toward home. She was thinking to herself of all the happy experiences of the past weeks; and notuntil she saw Louise waiting for her at Aunt Prissy’s gate did her face lose its serious expression. She ran ahead of the others and called out: “Louise! Louise! You will be Aunt Prissy’s little girl, won’t you? Because then you’ll really be an American.”
Louise nodded happily.
“Yes; and father is going to be an American, too. Didn’t Aunt Prissy tell you?” she responded; “and it’s all because you were my friend, Faith,” she added more soberly, as the two girls entered the house, and stood hand in hand at the door where, but a few months ago, Louise had entered a ragged, unhappy child.
“We’ll always be friends, shan’t we!” said Faith, and Louise earnestly responded:
“Always.”
A LITTLE MAID OF PROVINCE TOWNA LITTLE MAID OF MASSACHUSETTS COLONYA LITTLE MAID OF NARRAGANSETT BAYA LITTLE MAID OF BUNKER HILLA LITTLE MAID OF TICONDEROGAA LITTLE MAID OF OLD CONNECTICUTA LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINEA LITTLE MAID OF OLD NEW YORKA LITTLE MAID OF OLD PHILADELPHIAA LITTLE MAID OF VIRGINIAA LITTLE MAID OF MARYLANDA LITTLE MAID OF MOHAWK VALLEYA LITTLE MAID OF MONMOUTHA LITTLE MAID OF NANTUCKETA LITTLE MAID OF VERMONT
A LITTLE MAID OF PROVINCE TOWN
A LITTLE MAID OF MASSACHUSETTS COLONY
A LITTLE MAID OF NARRAGANSETT BAY
A LITTLE MAID OF BUNKER HILL
A LITTLE MAID OF TICONDEROGA
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD CONNECTICUT
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD NEW YORK
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD PHILADELPHIA
A LITTLE MAID OF VIRGINIA
A LITTLE MAID OF MARYLAND
A LITTLE MAID OF MOHAWK VALLEY
A LITTLE MAID OF MONMOUTH
A LITTLE MAID OF NANTUCKET
A LITTLE MAID OF VERMONT
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent.