"You can write a letter to Mrs. Carleton and we will take it," suggested
Sylvia, and then she told him Uncle Peter's news: that the President was
sending ships to the aid of the fort.
"That is great news," said the Captain; "if it is only true we may keep
the fort for the Union."
Within the hour of their arrival Sylvia and Estralla were on their way
home. The Captain had praised and thanked Sylvia for the loyal
friendship that had prompted her visit.
"Mrs. Carleton and I will always remember your courage," he said, as he
handed her the letter.
"I am so glad I thought about it; but it was really Estralla. She said
if I was black we could come," Sylvia had replied.
Then the boat swung clear and headed toward Charleston.
"I am not going to land at the big wharves," said Sylvia. "I am going to
that wharf near Miss Patten's garden. And then we'll tell Uncle Peter
where the Butterfly is."
It was early in the afternoon when Estralla appeared at the cloor of her
mammy's kitchen.
"Whar on airth you been? An' whar's yo' missy?" demanded Aunt Connie.
"Didn' I makes her a fine om'lit fer her dinner, an' it's ruinated."
"Missy wants a big pitcher of hot water," replied Estralla, dancing
about just beyond Aunt Connie's reach.
"Missy Sylvia say to tell you we been carryin' de cake to her fr'en',
an' she gwine to tell you, Mammy," explained Estralla when her mammy had
finally grasped her firmly by the shoulders.
"W'y didn' yo' say dat firs' place? H'ar's de hot water," and Estralla
hurried off to help Sylvia scrub off the sticky soot which had so well
disguised her; and when Mrs.
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