Donald rested his mittened hand on "Scotchie's" head.

"You needn't be afraid. I won't let him hurt you," Donald called.

The soldier came down the path scowling.

"I've a great mind to kick the beast," he said.

"You'd better not," said Donald.

Evidently the man agreed, for he went past as quickly as possible.

Donald watched him with a little scornful smile. The boy was not old enough to realize, as Faith did, the difference between these hired soldiers of England, and the brave Americans who were ready to undertake any sacrifice to secure the freedom of their country, but he was a brave boy, and thought poorly of this soldier's courage.

Louise listened to Faith's hurried account of the proposed quilting party.

"And you must come too, Louise," she concluded, "and come early."

Louise promised. She had never been to a quilting party, and was sure that it would be a great experience. She could not go to the lake, for she must not leave the house until her father returned.

When Faith rejoined Donald he told her of the soldier's evident fear of the dog. "I don't see what made 'Scotchie' growl so," added Donald.

"I'm glad he did," responded Faith. "Come on; let's hurry, or we won't have much time on the ice," so off they went across the field.

But as they reached the sh.o.r.e they looked at each other questioningly.

The lake seemed to be in the possession of the redcoats. At least half the garrison of the fort were on the ice; skating, racing, and evidently enjoying themselves.

"We had better go home," said Faith, and Donald made no objections.

The two children, disappointed of their morning's sport, went slowly back toward home.

"That's the way they take everything," declared Faith, renewing her promise to herself to try in some way to let Ethan Allen know how easy it would be to drive the English from Ticonderoga.

"I am glad you did not venture on the ice," Aunt Prissy said when Donald and Faith told their story. "The English become less friendly every day. Well, we will not think of them when there is so much to do as we have before us."

"I asked Louise to come to the quilting," said Faith.

"That's right; and I am going to send Donald to ask a number of your schoolmates to come in the evening. The moon will be full to light them home, and you children can have the kitchen to yourselves after supper, and make mola.s.ses candy," said Aunt Prissy.

This seemed a very delightful idea to both Faith and Donald. The thought of making candy reminded Faith of Esther Eldridge, and of the bear's sudden appearance at the kitchen door. Mr. Carew had promised Faith to ask Esther's father to bring her to visit Faith on her return home, and Faith often thought of how much she and Esther would have to tell each other.

That afternoon Faith helped her Aunt Prissy in preparing for the quilting. Aunt Prissy was cooking a ham, and the brick oven held some of the spiced cakes that the children liked so well. Donald cracked a big dish full of hickory-nuts, while Faith rubbed the pewter plates and pitchers until they shone like silver. The two younger boys ran in and out of the kitchen, thinking a quilting party must be a great affair.

Mr. Scott had been cutting wood at the edge of the forest, and did not return until nearly dusk; and when he arrived there was a man with him--evidently a traveler, for there was a pack on his back, and he was tired. Faith heard her Aunt Prissy call the stranger by name, and welcome him.

"Why, it is Esther's father. Of course it is!" she exclaimed suddenly.

Mr. Eldridge told her all about Esther, and promised that his little daughter should again visit the Wilderness cabin. Faith wondered what business it was that took Mr. Eldridge through the Wilderness and up and down the lakes. Long afterward she discovered that he was one of the trusted messengers of the American leaders, and through him the American settlers along the lake sh.o.r.es and through the New Hampshire Grants were kept informed of what the English were doing. She did not know that he underwent constant danger.

The little boys went early to bed that night, but Faith was not sleepy. The firelight in the sitting-room made dancing pictures on the wall, as she sat in a small chair at the end of the sofa. The sound of Aunt Prissy's knitting needles made her think of the silvery tinkle of the mill-stream under the winter ice in her Wilderness home. Mr.

Eldridge and her uncle were talking quietly. She heard her uncle say that: "Ticonderoga was the lock to the gate of the country," and Mr.

Eldridge respond that until Crown Point and Ticonderoga were taken by the Americans that none of the colonies could be safe.

"If there were any way to get into Fort Ticonderoga," said Mr.

Eldridge. "They say there's a secret pa.s.sageway."

Faith was all attention at this. She quite forgot that she was listening to conversation not intended for her ears, as she heard her uncle answer:

"There is such a door, but no way for an American to find it. If some one could get entrance to the fort in that way, discover just the plan of the place, and escape, it would be of the greatest service to the Americans when the right time came to take the fort."

"Time for bed, Faithie," said Aunt Prissy, and, very reluctantly, the little girl went up-stairs. She was thinking of all that her uncle and Mr. Eldridge had said, and of the unguarded door opening on the cliff at the fort. She wondered if she could make her way up that steep cliff as easily as Nathan had declared he had so often done.

"Perhaps Nathan will help capture the fort," she thought. "Anyway he could show the Green Mountain Boys the way. If I were at home I would put a note in that cave near Lake Dunmore and tell Ethan Allen about Nathan."

Only Ethan Allen and a few of his friends knew of this mountain cave, and it was there messages were left for him by the men of the Wilderness.

CHAPTER XVI

LOUISE DISAPPEARS

The guests for the quilting party arrived at an early hour in the afternoon. All that morning Faith and Aunt Prissy were busy. Dishes filled with red apples were brought up from the cellar; cakes were made ready, and the house in order before dinner time.

Only one little girl, Jane Tuttle, had been asked to come in the early afternoon. Jane was about Faith's age, and at school they were in the same cla.s.ses. She was not very tall, and was very fat. Jane was one of the children whom Caroline and Catherine Young had taken especial delight in teasing.

"Jane, Jane! Fat and plain; With a b.u.t.ton nose and turned-in toes,"

they would call after her, until the little girl dreaded the very sight of them. When Faith had proved that she was not afraid of the sisters Jane Tuttle became her steadfast admirer, and was greatly pleased to come in the afternoon with her mother. But she was surprised to find Louise Trent there before her, and evidently very much at home. However, she was too kind-hearted a child not to be pleasant and polite to the lame girl, and Louise was now as ready to make friends as, before knowing Faith, she had been sullen and unfriendly.

Each of the girls was encouraged to set a few neat st.i.tches in the quilt. Then, on the arrival of Mrs. Fairbanks and Mrs. Lewis, Aunt Prissy told Faith that if she wanted to take the little girls to her own room she might do so.

There was a glowing fire on the hearth, and Faith was pleased for Jane to see her pleasant chamber, and to introduce "Lady Amy."

"I wish I had brought my doll," said Jane, as the little girls gathered in front of the fire. "Mine is one my mother made for me."

"There, Louise! We could make you a doll!" exclaimed Faith, knowing how much her friend had always wished for a doll of her own.

But Louise shook her head. "I guess I am too old for dolls; I'm twelve," she said slowly, "and I don't have time to make dresses for dolls now that I'm learning to read and write. You see," and she turned to Jane, "I keep house for my father."

Jane looked at Louise, wondering to herself why she had ever imagined that Louise Trent was a girl that she could not have for a friend.

Why, Louise was really pretty! thought fat little Jane, looking admiringly at the smooth black hair, and the neat and pretty dress.

And so nearly grown-up, too. Twelve years old! Jane resolved to go and see Louise, and to ask her to come for a visit.

"I shall always play with dolls," she heard Faith declare. "I'd like to have a regiment of dolls, and play games with them. Wouldn't it be fun to have dolls that we could make up names for, and then have them do all sorts of things?"

Louise and Jane agreed that would be a fine game.

"We could dress up the pillows on your bed for dolls," suggested Louise.