"Indeed you may, child. See, here is a clasp of bright gold to hold them,"

and Mrs. Stoddard fastened the beads around Anne's neck.

"'Tis a fine gift," said Captain Enos admiringly, "and shows a kind heart in Mistress Starkweather."

"I wish my father could see," said Anne. "When he knows about my scarlet stockings and leather shoes, and the white kitten, and that I go to school and have coral beads, he will think I am the luckiest girl in the world."

"We will write him all that," said Captain Enos.

Just then the wooden latch of the kitchen door rattled and the door swung open.

"It's Amanda!" exclaimed Anne, and Amanda Cary stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind her.

"See, Amanda!" exclaimed Anne happily, "I have had a fine present.

Mistress Starkweather gave me these," and she touched the pink beads, "and this!" and she pointed to the sweet-smelling box of sandalwood.

Amanda's thin face brightened. "I've got some coral beads just like yours," she said; "my father got them 'way off across the ocean. When I grow older and times are better, my mother says I shall have a white dress and can wear my coral beads then."

The two little girls played with the doll and kitten and Captain Enos kept on with his work.

"I wish I had a doll," he heard Amanda say. "I have asked Amos to make me one, but he is not clever at whittling out things."

Captain Enos nodded to himself smilingly. Since Anne and Amos and Amanda had been carried down the harbor to House Point Island together, and he had heard how pleasant Amanda had been to Anne, he had liked the Cary children better, and had quite forgiven their old-time teasing ways. After Amanda had started for home he called Anne to him and said, "I have another secret!"

"Yes!" said Anne, with a gay little laugh.

"Would you like to make Amanda Cary a present?" he questioned.

"I could not give her my doll," answered Anne, her bright face growing sober. "'Tis all I have that my father made."

"But if I make another doll, a fine wooden doll, as near like yours as I can, would you like to give that to Amanda?" asked Uncle Enos.

"Oh, yes! Yes, indeed," said Anne, the smiles all coming back again.

"Then 'Tis a secret till I have the doll finished," said Captain Enos; "then maybe you can make a dress for it, and give it to Amanda, just as she gave you her white kitten."

Anne was very happy over this secret; it seemed even better than the new wooden chair for Martha Stoddard Nelson.

"I never gave anybody a present," she said, "but I know it must be the finest thing in the world to give somebody a gift," and she looked up into Uncle Enos's kindly face questioningly.

"You are a good child, Anne," he said, "and I will make the wooden doll as soon as time offers. Now take thy beads and box and Martha Stoddard Nelson to thy room, and I will bring in some wood for Aunt Martha. Then 'twill be time for a bite of supper."

Anne carried her treasures up-stairs to the little room. There was a stand in the room now, one that had belonged to her father. It had two drawers, and in one of them Anne carefully put the sandalwood box with the pink coral beads.

"I guess I have more lovely things than any little girl," she said to herself, as she slowly closed the drawer. "There's my doll, and my white kitten, and my scarlet stockings, which I shall have finished to-morrow, and my leather shoes, and these coral beads and the box!" But Anne gave a little sigh and then whispered, "And if my dear father could only know all about them, and that I am to give a doll to Amanda." She looked out of the small window toward the beautiful harbor, and wished that she might go sailing over it to Boston, to find her father and bring him safe to Province Town. "I wish King George knew how much trouble he was making with his old war-ships," Anne whispered to the wooden doll.

CHAPTER XII

AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

"I have a fine dish of ink all ready," said Captain Enos the next morning, "but 'Tis too clear a morning to sit in the house and write letters. There are good cod coming into the harbor, and I must row out and catch what I can while the weather is good."

"Can we not write the letter to-night?" asked Anne. "Aunt Martha has some fine pitch knots to burn that will make the kitchen light as day."

"We'll see, come night," replied Captain Enos.

The two were walking down the sandy path together,--Captain Enos bound for the sh.o.r.e, and Anne started for Mistress Starkweather's to thank her for the coral beads.

"Be a good child," said Captain Enos, as he turned from the path and left Anne to go on alone.

As the little girl came near the spring, she saw a man rolling a water cask toward it, and toward the sh.o.r.e she could see several other men, whom she knew came from the British ship. She looked closely at the man at the spring, and as she pa.s.sed near him, noticed that his hair was red. He smiled and nodded as Anne went by, and then she saw that he had pleasant blue eyes, and she stopped and said: "Have you forgotten the little girl you saved from the Indians?"

"No, indeed!" replied the big man heartily; "and so you are John Nelson's little girl. And you are not afraid of a Britisher?"

"Oh, no!" said Anne, in surprise; "you have two little maids in England."

"That I have, safe with their mother. But I should like well to see their bright faces, and your father would like to see you, child. You do not forget him?"

"No," said Anne soberly. "We plan to write him a letter for you to take."

"Speak not so loud," cautioned the man; "the other sailors may hear. And get your letter ready soon, for, come a fair wind, we'll be off up the coast again to Boston Harbor."

"Do your little girls write you letters?" asked Anne.

The big man shook his head. "No, they are not yet taught to write," he said. "It may be I'll be sailing back come spring, and then I'll tell them about the little maid I saw in Province Town."

"Tell them my name is Anne," said she eagerly. "I wish I could go to Boston and find my father. I must hurry now, but I wish I knew the names of your little girls."

"They have good names," said the big man. "Each one is named for a grandmother. One is Betsey and the other Hannah."

"I'll remember," said Anne, and she said "Good-bye" and went quickly on toward Mrs. Starkweather's.

"I do wish I could go and find my father," she thought as she walked along. "I know he'd like to see me better than a letter. I wish I had asked William Trull to take me in the big ship. But maybe Aunt Martha would not wish me to ask him."

All day Anne thought about the letter that Captain Enos had promised to write for her; and when supper was over and the kitchen began to grow dusky with the shadows of the October evening, she ran out to the little shed and came tugging in a big root of pine.

"May I put this on the fire, Aunt Martha?" she asked, "that Uncle Enos may see to write?"

"Tis a pine knot," said Mrs. Stoddard. "We shall need many such for light and heat before the long winter goes. But put it on, child. 'Tis a good plan to write thy father."

The pine knot blazed up brightly, and Captain Enos drew the table near the open fire, and, with Anne perched on a high stool beside him, and Mrs.

Stoddard busy with her knitting, while the white kitten purred happily from its comfortable place under her chair, the letter was begun. Word for word, just as Anne told him, Captain Enos wrote down about the stockings and shoes, the school and the kitten, the pink beads and William Trull, and at last Anne said: "That is all, only that I want to see him and that I love him well," and Captain Enos finished the letter, and Anne went up-stairs to bed.

"I have a plan to take a cargo of fish to Boston, Martha," said Captain Enos, as soon as Anne had gone. "The 'Somerset' will sail on the first fair wind. I can fill the sloop with good cod by the time she is out of gunshot; and I'll venture to say they will bring a good price in Boston Town."

"But how can you make safe landing there, Enos?" asked his wife anxiously.