It had been many weeks since the Butterfly had sailed about Charleston
harbor. But the little boat was in the charge of an old negro who took
good care of it. The negro knew Sylvia, and he knew that it was through
her interest in Estralla that the little negro girl and her mother had
been given their freedom. Now and then he appeared at Aunt Connie's
kitchen, and one warm day toward the last of March, when Sylvia was
wandering about the garden, she saw Uncle Peter going up the walk to the
rear of the house.
"Oh, Uncle Peter! Wait!" she called and ran to ask him about the boat.
Uncle Peter had a great deal of news to tell. He said that unless Major
Anderson and his soldiers left Fort Sumter at once that all the forts,
and the new batteries built by the Confederates, would open fire upon
Sumter and destroy it.
"I hears a good deal, Missy, 'deed I does," he declared, "but I doan'
let on as I hears. Massa Linkum he's gwine to send a lot o' big ships
down here 'fore long. Yas, indeed."
"I wish I could have a sail in the Butterfly again," said Sylvia, a
little wistfully.
"Do you, Missy? Well, I reckons you can. I doan' believe any body'd stop
me a-givin' yo' a little sail 'roun' de harbor," said Uncle Peter. "I
'spec's Major Anderson is a-waitin' an' a-watchin' fer dem ships of
Massa Linkum to come a-sailin' in," continued the old negro; for it was
a time when the colored people were eager and hopeful for some news that
might promise them their freedom.
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