"Well, come on! We have tried to do what we could to save the town, anyway," responded Lucia, who began to be sadly puzzled. If a liberty tree was so fine a thing why should her father not wish Machias to have one, she wondered. Lucia did not know that her father was even then bargaining with the British in Boston to bring them a cargo of lumber on his next trip from Machias, in return for permission to load the _Polly_ with provisions to sell to the people of the settlement, and that, exactly as Lucia had heard him predict, an armed British gunboat would accompany the sloops _Polly_ and _Unity_ when they should appear in Machias harbor.

The two friends whispered a hasty "good-night," and each ran in the direction of home. Rebby pushed the big door open noiselessly, but she did not try to replace the bar. As she crept up the stairs she could hear the even breathing of her father and mother, and she slid into bed without waking Anna, and was too sleepy herself to lie long awake.

The unfastened door puzzled Mr. Weston when he came down-stairs at daybreak the next morning. "I was sure I put the bar up," he thought, but he had no time to think much about trifles that morning, for, as he stood for a moment in the doorway, he saw Paul Foster running toward the house.

"Mr. Weston, sir, the liberty pole is gone," gasped the boy, out of breath. "The rope that held it to the stake was cut," he continued.

"Father says 'tis some Tory's work."

Mr. Weston did not stop for breakfast. He told Mrs. Weston that he would come up later on, as soon as he had found out more about the missing liberty tree; and with Paul beside him, now talking eagerly of how his father had gone with him to take a look at the pine sapling and found no trace of it, Mr. Weston hurried toward the sh.o.r.e where a number of men were now gathered.

Anna had hard work to awaken Rebby that morning, and when she came slowly down-stairs she felt cross and tired; but her mother's first words made her forget everything else.

"We will eat our porridge without your father," Mrs. Weston said gravely. "A terrible thing has happened. Some traitor has made way with the liberty tree that your father and Paul selected yesterday."

"Traitor?" gasped Rebby, who knew well that such a word meant the lowest and most to be despised person on earth, and could hardly believe that what she had supposed to be a fine and brave action could be a traitor's deed.

"Who else but a traitor would make way with our liberty pole?"

responded Mrs. Weston. "But do not look so frightened, Rebby. Sit up to the table; when your father comes home he will tell us who did the base act. And we may be sure Machias men will deal with him as he deserves."

But Rebecca could not eat the excellent porridge; and when her mother questioned her anxiously she owned that her head ached, and that she did not feel well.

"I'll steep up some thoroughwort; a good cup of herb tea will soon send off your headache," said Mrs. Weston, "and you had best go back to bed.

Maybe 'tis because of the birthday cake."

Rebecca made no response; she was glad to go back to her room, where she buried her face in the pillow, hardly daring to think what would become of her. Supposing Lucia should tell, she thought despairingly, saying over and over to herself, "Traitor! Traitor!" So that when Anna came softly into the room a little later she found her sister with flushed face and tear-stained eyes, and ran back to the kitchen to tell her mother that Rebby was very ill.

It was an anxious and unhappy morning for Rebby and for her mother, for Mrs. Weston became worried at the sight of her daughter's flushed cheeks and frightened eyes. She decided that it was best for Rebecca to remain in bed; and, had it not been for the frequent doses of bitter herb tea which her mother insisted on her drinking, Rebby would have been well satisfied to hide herself away from everyone.

Anna helped her mother about the household work, thinking to herself that probably Melvina Lyon was doing the same. After the dishes had been washed and set away Mrs. Weston suggested that Anna should run down to Luretta Foster's.

"'Twill be best to keep the house quiet this morning, and you can see the rabbits," she added.

"But, Mother! I am not noisy. Do I not step quietly, and more softly?"

pleaded Anna. She was quite ready to run off to her friend's, but she was sure her mother must notice that she was no longer the noisy girl who ran in and out of the house singing and laughing.

"Well, my dear child, you have been 'Anna,' not 'Dan,' for a week past.

And I know not what has turned you into so quiet and well-behaved a girl," responded her mother. "But run along, and be sure and inquire if there be any news of the rascal who made way with the liberty tree."

Anna started off very sedately, measuring her steps and holding her head a little on one side as she had noticed that Melvina sometimes did. She was thinking of Rebby, and what a pity it was to have to stay indoors when the sun was so warm, and when there were so many pleasant things to do. "I will go over on the hill and get her some young checkerberry leaves," resolved Anna, remembering how Rebby liked their sharp flavor.

Then she remembered that the rabbits were to be named that morning; and, forgetting all about Melvina, she ran swiftly along the path, beginning to sing in her old-time manner.

Luretta was watching for her, and smiled happily when she heard Anna's voice. "Oh! She's going to stay 'Danna,' and not be like that stuck-up Melvina Lyon," she thought with delight; for Luretta did not think Anna would make a satisfactory playmate if she were going to change into a quiet, well-behaved girl like the minister's little daughter.

In a few minutes the girls were beside the box that held the captive rabbits, who looked up at them with startled eyes. Paul had brought a basket of fresh gra.s.s, and some bits of tender bark and roots on which the little creatures were nibbling.

"I do wish they were not exactly alike," said Anna.

But Luretta declared that she thought it was much better that way.

"Because I should want you to have the prettiest one, and you would want me to have the prettiest one, and how could we ever choose?" she explained; and Anna acknowledged that perhaps it was better that the rabbits should be alike in every way. After much discussion of names they decided that the rabbits must be called as nearly alike as possible; and so the new pets were named "Trit" and "Trot."

Every little child in the neighborhood enjoyed a visit at Luretta's home. In the first place because of Mrs. Foster's pleasant smile and kind welcome, and also because of the wonderful treasures it contained.

There was a great round ostrich egg, which Mr. Foster's brother had brought from far-off Africa. This egg was carefully kept in a wooden box on the high mantel shelf; but Mrs. Foster was never too busy to take it down and let the little visitor gaze at it with admiring eyes. Then there was a model of a water-mill, with its tiny wheels, as complete as if it could begin work at once. This stood on a table in the corner of the sitting-room, where anyone might stand and admire it, and hear Luretta or Paul tell that their father had made every bit of it himself.

Besides these treasures Mrs. Foster, with a pair of scissors and a bit of paper, could make the most beautiful paper dolls that any little girl could wish to possess; and whenever Luretta's friends came for a visit they usually took home a paper doll, or perhaps a bird cut from paper, or a horse. So Anna was ready to leave even the beautiful rabbits and go indoors. But this morning Mrs. Foster did not seem her usual cheerful self.

"This is sad news about our liberty tree; but the men have set out in boats to search for it, and 'twill be a good omen indeed if they find and bring it back," she said.

"My father says 'twill be a great day for the settlement when 'tis put up," said Anna, looking longingly toward the box on the high mantel, and hoping she might have a look at the wonderful egg.

"And so it will be. With Boston in the hands of the British, and no safety on land or sea 'tis time each town showed some mark of loyalty,"

declared Mrs. Foster. "I will put on my sunbonnet and we will walk to the wharves, and perhaps hear some news of the traitor who made way with it. I said at first maybe 'twas the mischief of some boy who did not realize what the tree stood for; but Paul flared up at once and said there was no boy on the coast of Maine who would do such a thing, unless 'twas a young Tory; and we know of no Tory here."

As they neared the wharf they heard a loud cheer from a group of men, and could see that a boat, rowed by Mr. Weston and Mr. Foster, was coming rapidly toward the sh.o.r.e and behind it trailed the fine pine sapling.

"And there comes Parson Lyon with his little daughter," said Mrs.

Foster. "He is as good a patriot as General Washington himself," she added admiringly.

As Mr. Lyon came near the little group he stopped for a moment.

"May I leave my daughter with you?" he asked. "I wish to be one of those who lift that sacred tree to safety." And he hurried on to the wharf, leaving Melvina, who stood smiling delightedly at this unexpected meeting with Anna.

CHAPTER VIII

"WHITE WITCHES"

For a moment both Anna and Luretta looked at Melvina a little doubtfully, for they could but remember and be ashamed of their part in the foolish game they had tried to play with her so short a time ago.

But Melvina was smiling and friendly, and evidently had cherished no ill-feeling toward them. By the time she had replied to Mrs. Foster's friendly inquiries in regard to her mother, Anna and Luretta were quite at their ease; and Luretta said to herself that she did not wonder Anna wanted to be like Melvina. Luretta even began to wonder if it would not be well for her to learn to speak as softly as did Melvina Lyon; it certainly had a pleasant sound, she thought admiringly.

"I must return home," said Mrs. Foster, "but Melvina's father will expect her to wait here for him; so, Luretta, you and Anna may stay with her until he comes. Here is a clean log where you can sit comfortably, and do not go far from this spot."

The little girls promised, and Mrs. Foster started for home. Hardly had she turned her back when Melvina clasped Anna by the hand, and exclaimed: "Now you can tell me more about the woods, and the little animals who live in hollow logs or burrow under rocks, and about the different birds and their nests! Oh, begin quickly, for my father may soon return," and she drew Anna toward the big log that lay near the path.

"Tell her about our rabbits, Danna," suggested Luretta. "My brother Paul brought me two little gray rabbits from the forest," she explained; and Melvina listened eagerly to the description of Trit and Trot, and of their cunning ways and bright eyes, and was told that they had already lost their fear of Luretta and Anna.

"I wish I could see them. I have never seen any little animals except kittens," said Melvina. It seemed to Melvina that Anna and Luretta were very fortunate children. They could run about in old clothes, play on the sh.o.r.e and among the piles of lumber, and they knew many strange and interesting things about the creatures of the forest which she had never before heard. The long lessons that she had to learn each morning, the stint of neat st.i.tches that she had to set each day, and the ceremonious visits now and then, when she always had to take her knitting, and was cautioned by her anxious mother to "remember that she was a minister's daughter, and behave properly, and set a good example"--all these things flitted through Melvina's thoughts as tiresome tasks that she would like to escape, and be free as Anna seemed to be.

"Mayn't I bring the rabbits down here for Melvina to see?" asked Anna.

"The box would not be very heavy."

But Luretta had objections to this plan. Her brother had told her not to move the box from the sunny corner near the shed; and, beside this, she was sure it was too heavy for Anna to lift. "If you should let it fall they might get out and run away," she concluded. Then, noticing Anna's look of disappointment, she added: "I know what you may do, Danna. You and Melvina may go up and see the rabbits, and I will wait here for Parson Lyon and tell him where Melvina is, and that we will see her safely home; and then I will hurry after you."

"Oh! Yes, indeed; that is a splendid plan," said Melvina eagerly, jumping up from the log. "Let us go now, Anna. And is not Luretta kind to think of it?"

Anna agreed rather soberly. Mrs. Foster had told them to remain near the log, she remembered, but if Melvina saw no harm in Luretta's plan she was sure it must be right; so taking Melvina's hand they started off.

"Let's run, Anna," urged Melvina; for Anna was walking sedately, in the manner in which she had so often seen Melvina come down the path, and she was a little surprised that her companion had not at once noticed it. But Anna was always ready to run, and replied quickly: "Let's race, and see who can get to the blacksmith shop first."