"It is a good story," said Mrs. Starkweather. "True, it is said to be but a dream, but I read it in my youth and liked it well. It has been a treat to see it, Mrs. Stoddard. 'Tis seldom I have so care-free an afternoon.

Six boys to look after keep me busy," and the good woman rose from her chair and with cordial words of good-bye started for home.

"I wish I could read this book," said Anne, turning the leaves over carefully and wondering what the pictures meant.

"So you shall. We'll read a little now. Come, you shall spell out the words, and I will speak them for you and tell you their meaning."

An hour later when Captain Enos stepped into the kitchen he declared that he thought school had begun there; and while Mrs. Stoddard hurried about to prepare supper Uncle Enos continued Anne's reading lesson.

"Perhaps I can read this book after I go to school," said Anne.

"That you can," answered the captain.

"And I will learn to write," said Anne, "and it may be I could send a letter to my dear father."

"That is a good child," said Captain Enos, patting the dark head; "learn to write and we'll set about starting the letter to your father as soon as you have it ready."

"I shall have much to tell him," said Anne, smiling up into Uncle Enos's kind face.

"And he'll have a good deal to tell you," replied Captain Enos. "I wish I could see him myself. I'd like news of what's going on in Boston."

CHAPTER XI

CAPTAIN ENOS'S SECRETS

The playhouse under the pines was almost forgotten as the days grew colder, and the fall rains came, with high winds; and Anne's scarlet stocking was now long enough for Aunt Martha to "set the heel" and begin to shape the foot. School had begun in Elder Haven's sitting-room, with fourteen scholars, and Anne was learning to write.

"Master Haven says I write my own name nicely," she said at the end of the first week, "and that by the time school closes he thinks I can write a letter."

Captain Enos nodded approvingly. He and Anne were sitting before a bright fire of driftwood in the pleasant kitchen, while Mrs. Stoddard had gone to Mrs. Starkweather's for more scarlet yarn. Anne was knitting busily; her wooden doll sat on the floor, and the white kitten was curled up close to the little girl's feet. Captain Enos had several pieces of smooth cedar wood on a stool near his chair, and was at work upon one with his sharp jack-knife.

"Well, well!" he said, looking up from his whittling. "That will please thy father, Anne. And learn as fast as you can, for I see a fair chance of sending a letter to Boston, when one is ready; and then thy father could soon get it."

"Oh, Uncle Enos!" exclaimed Anne, "if there be a chance to send a letter could you not write for me? It may be when I can write there will be no chance to send a letter."

Captain Enos nodded. "You are a wise child," he said. "My writing isn't the plainest in the world, but I'll do my best. I have some sheets of good smooth paper in my sea-chest, and a good quill pen, too. Elder Haven fixed the pen for me from the feather of a wild goose I killed on the marshes last spring. But I do not think there is such a thing as ink in the house; but I can make a fair ink with the juice of the elderberry and a fair lot of soot from the chimney. So think up what you wish to tell your father, Anne, and if it storms to-morrow we'll write the letter."

"How will you send it, Uncle Enos?" asked Anne, forgetting to knit and turning eager eyes toward the captain.

"Sshh!" said Captain Enos. "'Tis a secret--hardly to be whispered. But there is a good-hearted sailorman on board the British ship. We have had some talk together on the sh.o.r.e, and he told me that he liked thy father; and that he did not blame him for escaping from the ship."

Anne nodded smilingly, and reached down and picked up her wooden doll.

"Has the sailorman any little girl?" she asked.

"That he has," said Captain Enos. "He told me that he had two small maids of his own in Plymouth, England, far across the ocean; and he asked if I knew aught of John Nelson's little girl."

"That's me!" said Anne, holding the wooden doll tight.

"Yes," said Captain Enos, "and he said that he might find a chance to send some word to thy father that you were a good and happy child. Then I told him, Anne, that you planned to write a letter, and he said he'd take it to Boston, and then 'twould soon reach thy father."

"I wish I could hear the sailorman speak of my father," said Anne, "and tell me of his little girls in England."

"Mayhap you can, child. He comes ash.o.r.e after water each day. A stout man he is, with reddish hair and good honest blue eyes. He tells me his name is William Trull. If you see such a man you may speak to him."

"Uncle Enos! That is the sailorman who saved me from the Indian women, and brought me safe home," exclaimed Anne. "Do you not remember?"

"Indeed I do, Anne. And I thought the name would mean something to you,"

replied Captain Enos.

Anne smiled happily. It was good news to hear from the sailorman, and to know that he was a friend of her father's.

"What are you making, Uncle Enos?" asked Anne, as the captain put down one smooth bit of wood and picked up another.

Captain Enos pointed to Anne's wooden doll and whispered, "I'm afraid Martha Stoddard Nelson will hear. Put her down behind your chair and come over here, and I'll tell you."

Anne set the doll down carefully, with its head turned away from Captain Enos, and tiptoed across the little s.p.a.ce between them.

"I'm making a chair for Martha Stoddard Nelson," whispered Captain Enos, "for a surprise. And you mustn't tell her a word about it till it is all ready for her to sit in."

Anne laughed. To have a secret with Uncle Enos was about the most delightful thing she could imagine; and to have it mean a fine cedar chair for her doll to sit in was the best kind of a secret.

"You mustn't let Martha Stoddard Nelson face toward me more than you can help," went on Uncle Enos. "You don't think she has noticed what I am doing, do you?"

"No," whispered Anne. "I'll be very careful, and let her stay up-stairs a good deal until the chair is finished."

"That will be a good plan," said Uncle Enos, "and there comes your Aunt Martha. I hear her at the door."

Anne ran to open the door and Mrs. Stoddard came in smiling and rosy from her walk in the sharp wind. The white kitten jumped up and came running toward her, and the good woman looked about the cheerful room as if she thought it the finest place in the world.

"I have more scarlet yarn," she said, sitting down near Captain Enos, "and I have a present for thee, Anne; something that Mistress Starkweather sent thee with her love," and Mrs. Stoddard handed Anne a small package.

"It's a box!" declared the little girl, taking off the paper in which it was wrapped, "and see how sweet it smells."

"'Tis of sandalwood," said Captain Enos. "There must be many such in the settlement, for 'twas but a few years ago that some of our men came back from a voyage to Ceylon, and fetched such boxes in their chests."

"Open it, Anne," said Mrs. Stoddard, and Anne carefully took off the cover.

"Look, look!" she exclaimed, holding out the box toward Aunt Martha; "what are these shining things; all pink and round?" and she picked up a string of pink coral beads and held them up.

"Coral beads!" said Aunt Martha. "Mistress Starkweather said that she thought when her husband brought them home she would keep them for a little girl of her own; but since she has but six boys, she says she knows of no little girl to whom she would rather give them than to thee, Anne.

And you must go down to-morrow before school begins and thank her properly."

"Coral beads!" repeated Anne, holding up the pink beads and touching them softly. "May I put them around my neck, Aunt Martha?"