She ran swiftly along, now and then meeting someone who glanced wonderingly at the flying little figure. She had reached King Street and was nearly at the street where she was to turn, when suddenly a heavy hand grasped her arm and nearly swung her from her feet.

"Running off, are you? And wearing your mistress's clothes at that, I'll warrant," said a gruff voice. "Wall, now, whose darky are you?"

Sylvia pulled the silken scarf from her face, and even in the glimmer of the dull street-lamp under which the man had drawn her he could see the auburn hair and blue eyes. But he still kept his grasp on her arm.

There were slaves who were not black, he knew, and "quality white"

girls were not running about Charleston streets alone at night.

"What is your name?" he demanded.

Sylvia looked at him resentfully. "How dare you grab me like this?" she demanded. "Let me go."

The man released his grasp instantly. No darky girl or slave would have spoken like that. He vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, more frightened now than Sylvia herself.

For an instant Sylvia stood quite still. She felt ready to cry, and now walked more slowly. For the first time she realized something of what it must be to be a colored girl.

"If I had been Estralla he could have dragged me off and had me whipped," she thought. "Oh, I must get Mr. Robert Waite to let Estralla stay safe with us."

She was now near her destination, which proved to be a large house right on the street. She knocked at the door several times before it was opened. Then she found herself looking up at a tall man whose white hair and kindly smile gave her confidence.

"Well, little girl, whom do you wish to see?" he asked pleasantly.

"I have a message, I--" began Sylvia, her voice trembling a little.

"Are you Mr. Doane?"

"Yes; come in," and he held the door open for her to enter, and then closed and fastened it behind them.

Sylvia drew the letter from its hiding-place and handed it to him, and Mr. Doane slipped it into his pocket.

"Come in, my child, and rest a moment; you are out of breath," he said, leading the way to a small room at the end of the narrow hall.

Sylvia was glad to sit down in a low chair near the table, while Mr.

Doane opened the envelope. She could see that there was another letter enclosed, as well as the one which the tall man was reading with such interest.

When he had finished reading the letter he tore it into a great many small pieces. Then he put the enclosed envelope carefully in an inner pocket.

"So you brought me this letter from the fort. Well, you have done what I hope may prove a great service to the Stars and Stripes. I thank you," he said, looking with smiling eyes at the tired little figure in the brown cape.

Then he asked Sylvia her name, and she told him that no one, not even her dear mother, knew that she had brought the message. Before they had finished their talk he had heard all about the blue c.o.c.kades that the girls had worn at Miss Patten's school, and of Sylvia's refusal to salute the palmetto flag.

"You see I couldn't do that, because it would mean that I believed that Estralla ought to be a slave, and of course I don't believe such a dreadful thing," she explained. So then Mr. Doane heard all about Estralla and Aunt Connie.

Sylvia decided that she liked Mr. Doane even better than Captain Carleton. And when he told her again that by her courage in bringing him the message from the fort, and by her silence in regard to it, that she had done him a great service, as well as a service to those whose only wish for South Carolina was that the State should free herself from slavery, Sylvia forgot all about the long walk through the shadowy streets.

"I wish I had someone to send with you to see you home safely," Mr.

Doane said, a little anxiously, as they stood together in the little hallway. "But I am known here, and I fear everything I do is watched.

So I must trust that you will be safely cared for."

Before Sylvia could reply, and say that she was not at all afraid to go alone, the outer door rattled as if someone were trying to push it open.

"You have been followed. Run back to the sitting-room," whispered Mr.

Doane. "I will open the door."

CHAPTER XII

ESTRALLA HELPS

Sylvia, standing just inside the door of the small room, heard the outer door swing open. She heard Mr. Doane's sharp question, and then a familiar wail.

"Oh! It's Estralla!" she exclaimed, and ran back to the entry.

"It's Estralla! Oh! I'm so glad!" she said.

"Don' you be skeered, Missy Sylvia," said Estralla valiantly. "Dis yere man cyan't take you off'n sell you."

"All Estralla can think of is that somebody is going to be carried off and sold," Sylvia said, turning to Mr. Doane, who stood by looking very serious.

"How did you know where your little mistress was?" he questioned gravely. For if this little darky knew of Sylvia's errand he feared that she might tell others, and so Sylvia would have brought the message from the fort to little purpose. The letter, which was now in Mr. Doane's pocket, was to the Secretary of War in Washington, asking for permission for Major Anderson to take men to Fort Sumter, before the secessionists could occupy it.

"I follers Missy," explained Bstralla. "An' when that man grabs her on King Street, I was gwine to chase right home an' get Ma.s.sa Fulton, but Missy talks brave at him, an' he lets go of her. Oh, Missy! What you doin' of way off here?"

At this question Mr. Doane smiled, realizing that the little negro girl had no knowledge of the message which Sylvia had delivered.

"Well, Estralla, suppose Miss Sylvia came to try and help give you your freedom?" he asked.

"An' my mammy?" demanded Estralla eagerly.

"Why, of course," Mr. Doane replied. "For anything that helps to convince South Carolina that she is wrong will help to free the slaves," he added, turning to Sylvia.

"Now, Estralla, if you love Miss Sylvia, if you want to stay with your mammy, you must never tell of her visit here to-night. Remember!" and Mr. Doane's voice was very stern.

"Estralla won't tell," Sylvia declared confidently; "and I am glad she came to go home with me."

"Shuah I'll do jes' what Missy wants me to," said the little darky.

"Try to let Mrs. Carleton know that I received the letter, and that I hope to reach Washington safely," said Mr. Doane, as he bade Sylvia good-night.

As the door closed behind them Estralla clasped Sylvia's hand.

"Wat dat clock say?" she asked; for one of the city clocks was striking the hour.

"It's twelve o'clock," answered Sylvia.

"Oh! My lan', Missy! Dat's a terrible onlucky time fer us to be out,"

whispered Estralla. "Dat's de time w'en witch folks comes a-dancin' an'