She remembered
that her father had said that Fort Sumter was the property of the United
States; and, for some reason which she could not explain even to
herself, she was sure that Estralla would be safe there. If Mr. Robert
Waite really meant to sell her, Sylvia again resolved to find some way
to get the little slave girl to Fort Sumter.
When Estralla brought the hot water the next morning she found a very
sober little mistress. For Sylvia's father had not only explained the
meaning of the word "abolitionist" as being the name the southerners had
given to the men who were determined that slavery of other men, whatever
their color, should end, but he had told his little daughter that he
could do nothing to prevent the sale of the little colored girl, and
that not even at Fort Sumter would she be safe. Sylvia had not gone to
sleep very early. She lay awake thinking of Estralla. "Suppose somebody
could sell me away from my mother," she thought, ready to cry even at
such a possibility. Sylvia knew that Aunt Connie had been whipped
because she had rebelled against parting with her older children, and
there was no Philip to take Aunt Connie's part.
"Mornin', Missy," said Estralla, coming into the room, and setting down
the pitcher of hot water very carefully. She had on the pink gingham
with one of the white aprons, and as she stood smiling and neat at the
foot of Sylvia's bed, she looked very different from the clumsy little
darky who had tumbled into the room a few weeks ago.
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