h at table; and he told the Cary
children that I was his little girl, and that I was not to be plagued. But
he is not my own father," answered Anne, "and if you must go up the cape I
will go with you. The nights are warm and pleasant, and I shall like well
to sleep out-of-doors with the stars shining down on us. And if you go
with the Americans I will go too. They will not mind one little girl!"

Her father smoothed the dark hair tenderly and smiled at the eager,
upturned face.

"You love me, Anne, and I'll not forget that I have a dear, brave daughter
waiting for me. I'll be the braver and the better man remembering. But you
cannot go with me. I shall be scant fed and footsore for many a long day,
and I will not let you bear any hardship I can keep from you. It will be a
joy to me to know you safe with Mistress Stoddard; and if I live they
shall be repaid for all they do for you. They are indeed kind to you?" he
again questioned anxiously.

"They are indeed," responded Anne, seriously.

"Now I must begin my journey, Anne. And do not say that you have seen me.
Keep in your heart all I have told you. I shall come for you when I can.
But you are to be happy and not think of me as in danger. A brave man is
always quite safe, and I wish you to believe that your father is a brave
man, Anne."

"Am I not to tell Mistress Stoddard?"

"Tell no one, Anne. Remember. Promise me that when they speak of me as
drowned you will say no word!"

"I will not speak, father. But if they do say 'traitor' or 'spy' I am not
to bear it. Captain Enos said I need not."

A little smile came over the man's face and he nodded silently. Then he
kissed his little daughter and again promising that it should not be long
before he would come for her, he turned and made his way through the wood,
and soon Anne could no longer see him.

For a long time the little girl sat silent and sorrowful where he had left
her. She had forgotten all about the little brown cow; her wooden doll lay
neglected on the grass beside her. But after a little she remembered the
errand on which she had been sent, and, picking Martha up, started off to
drive Brownie back to the pasture near home.

Anne was so quiet that day that at night Mrs. Stoddard questioned her
anxiously. "Have those Cary children been saying hateful words to you
again, child?" she asked.

"No, I have not been to the spring," answered Anne.

"Has Jimmie Starkweather been telling thee more foolish