And, Estralla, we will have to
tell Uncle Peter, or he won't let us have the boat."
"Lan', Missy, I'll do jes' w'at yo' says. But I reckon Uncle Pete won'
let us. Wat yo' mammy gwine to think w'en you ain't home to your
dinner?" responded Estralla. But she was finally convinced that Missy
Sylvia could carry out the plan, and agreed to have a large quantity of
soot ready at her mother's cabin the next morning.
Sylvia was glad that she had eaten only one of the cookies. She carried
the remainder to her room and then went to the kitchen.
"Will you make me a fine big cake, Aunt Connie?" she asked.
"Lan', course I will, chile! But, w'at you wan' it fer?" answered Aunt
Connie, smiling down at the little girl whom she loved so dearly.
"It's a secret, Aunt Connie! I want to give it away, and I don't want to
tell even my mother until--well," and Sylvia hesitated a moment, and
then continued, "until next week. Then I will tell her, and you too."
"Dat's right, Missy. I'll make yo' de finest cake I knows how. Le's see!
I'll put citron, an' raisins, an' currants in it. An' butter! Yas,
thar'll be a fine lot o' things in dat cake!" and Aunt Connie rolled her
eyes, and lifted her hands as if she could already taste its richness.
All that afternoon Sylvia could think of nothing but the proposed trip.
She sat with Mrs. Carleton a little while before supper, and told her of
what Uncle Peter had said: that ships from the north were on the way to
the aid of Fort Sumter.
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