CHAPTER IX

  LADY DISAPPEARS

  "We shall reach the tavern in good season for dinner," said Mr. Freeman,as they drove into the village of Sandwich.

  It seemed a very wonderful thing to the little maid from Province Townto drive up to the inn, with its big painted sign swinging from a postnear the road, and she took hold of Rose's hand as if half afraid.

  Rose looked down at her little friend with a smiling face.

  "Why, Anne," she said laughingly, "you were not a bit afraid to startoff through the woods alone, or to journey with Indians, and here youare trembling because you are going into this little tavern for dinner."

  Anne managed to smile, but she kept a tight clasp on Rose's hand. It wasnot that she was frightened, but as she stepped from the chaise she hadheard one of the loiterers about the door exclaim, "Look at the child,bareheaded and wearing moccasins," and her quick glance hadcomprehended the exchange of smiles; and Anne now felt uncomfortable andrealized that she was not suitably dressed to travel in the high chaise.She looked at Rose, with her pretty dress of blue dimity, and white hatwith its broad ribbon, her neat shoes and stockings, and realized thatthere was a great contrast in their appearance. Anne was very silent allthrough the meal and ate but little. Even Mr. Freeman began to noticethat she was very silent and grave, and thought to himself that thelittle girl might be homesick.

  "We can drive to Plymouth this afternoon," he said, as they finishedtheir dinner. "It is only about twenty miles, and we can get there earlyin the evening."

  Anne knew all about Plymouth. From the hill in Province Town she hadlooked across the water to Plymouth, and Uncle Enos had told her thatmany years ago a band of Pilgrims from England had landed at ProvinceTown, and then sailed on and settled in Plymouth. Uncle Enos hadwondered at it, and had shook his head over a people who would willinglysettle in any other place than Province Town.

  The road now followed the shore very closely, and Rose was interestedin watching the boats, and the many flocks of wild sea-birds circlingabout in the summer air. But Anne leaned back in the corner of thechaise silent and troubled. The more she thought about her lack of allthe things that Rose had the more unhappy she became. "They will all beashamed of me when I get to Boston," she thought, "and I have no moneyto buy things, and it will be three weeks or more before my dear fatherwill reach Boston. Oh, dear!" And Anne, for the moment, wished herselfback on the Province Town sands where a bareheaded, moccasin-shod littlegirl could be as happy as the day was long.

  The sun had set, and it was in the cool of the early evening when theydrove through Plymouth's main street. They were all tired and quiteready for bed. It seemed a very large town to Anne, with itsmeeting-houses and stores, but she was glad that it was nearly dark andhoped that no one would notice that she had no hat or sunbonnet.

  "If I had not run away Aunt Martha would have seen to it that I hadthings like other girls," and she said to herself that "always, always,after this I'll tell Aunt Martha before I do things."

  "To-morrow night we'll be in Boston, Anne! Think of that," said Rosehappily, when the landlady had shown them to the comfortable chamberthat they were to occupy for the night. "Father says we'll start bysunrise, and give Lady a rest at Scituate. Just think of all I shallhave to tell when I get home. And then we'll go to the shops the verynext day. Oh, Anne! I can't keep the secret another minute," and Rosecame to the window where Anne stood looking out, and putting her armover the younger girl's shoulder whispered in her ear: "Captain Stoddardgave me two golden guineas to spend for you, Anne. He said your fatherleft them to buy clothes for you. I planned not to tell you until wewere really in the shops and ready to purchase, but I thought it toogood news to keep longer," and Rose smiled down at her little friend.

  "Two guineas to buy clothes!" Anne's voice sounded as if such goodfortune was almost beyond belief.

  "And I can have a hat, and shoes and stockings, since my own were leftbehind in the wigwam?" she said questioningly.

  "Indeed you can. And mother will go with us, and I doubt not you willhave a pretty dress and slippers as well as shoes, and many fine things,for two guineas is a large sum to spend."

  "Perhaps I shall not need to spend it all for clothes," said Anne; "thenI can buy a present for Aunt Martha and Uncle Enos, and perhapssomething for Amanda."

  "Amanda!" echoed Rose. "Well, Anne, I would not take her home a gift;she does not deserve one from you."

  Anne was silent, but she was excusing Amanda in her thoughts. As Amos sooften said of Jimmie Starkweather that "nothing ever happens to Jimmie,"so did Anne think of Amanda. She somehow felt sorry for Amanda, and hadquite forgiven the ugly slaps her playmate had given her.

  It took Anne a good while to go to sleep that night. Blue dimity dressesand shining slippers danced before her wakeful eyes, and a white ribbonto tie back her hair. Already she was trying to decide what her presentto Amanda should be; and it seemed to her that she had just gone tosleep when Rose was shaking her gently and saying: "Time to get up."

  The travelers were all in the best of spirits that morning: Rose, happyto be so near home, Anne delighted at the prospect of having dresseslike the girls who lived in Boston, and Mr. Freeman had had the best ofnews from Plymouth friends, who declared that news from Philadelphia hadbeen received stating that the Congress there was agreed upon declaringthe independence of America.

  "'Tis what Mr. Samuel Adams has worked so hard for," Mr. Freeman toldthe girls; "and when the Congress has fully determined upon the form ofthe declaration word will be sent post-haste to Boston; and I trust,too, that Mr. Adams may be spared for a visit to his family. He has beenabsent from Boston for a year past."

  Mr. Freeman had asked the landlord to furnish them with a luncheon, ashe did not know if there would be a suitable place to procure food inScituate; and with a bag of oats for Lady fastened on top of the littletrunk, and a basket of luncheon under the seat of the chaise, thetravelers could choose just when and where to stop.

  "We'll keep a sharp outlook for a good clear stream of water," said Mr.Freeman.

  "And I hope we can stop near the shore," said Rose; "I'd like to go inwading."

  Anne thought that it would not make much difference where they stopped.The fragrant summer air, the pleasant shadow of the trees along theroad, and the hope of soon being in Boston so filled her thoughts thatwhere or what she ate seemed of little consequence.

  Several hours after leaving Plymouth they found themselves on a pleasantstretch of road bordering the water.

  "There is the very beach for wading!" exclaimed Rose happily, and evenas she spoke they heard the splash of falling water and just before themwas a rough bridge of logs over a rapid stream of clear water. Ladynearly stopped, and gave a little whinny as if asking for a drink.

  "Just the place!" declared Mr. Freeman; "and here's a good piece ofgreensward in the shade for Lady," and he turned into a little grassyfield beyond the bridge where a big beech tree stood, making a gratefulcircle of shade.

  "Lady must have a couple of hours' rest," said Mr. Freeman, "so yougirls can go down to the beach or do whatever you like until you areready for luncheon."

  The girls took off their shoes and stockings and ran down to the water'sedge, and were soon wading about enjoying the cool water. After alittle while they tired of wading and went up on the dry warm sand.Patches of bayberry bushes grew near the shore, and their fragrantleaves and small gray berries at once attracted Rose's attention. Shehad never before seen this shrub, a species of myrtle, and Anne wasdelighted to find something that she could tell the elder girl.

  "It's bayberry, Rose. Just rub the leaves between your fingers and seehow sweet it smells," she said. "Aunt Martha makes candles of theselittle green berries, and likes them better than tallow candles. Whenyou snuff them out they make all the room smell just like this," andAnne held the bruised leaves up for Rose to smell.

  "I don't see how candles could be made of these little berries," saidRose.

  "And
Aunt Martha makes a fine salve from them, too," continued Anne."When she makes the candles I gather the berries, quarts and quarts, andshe boils them in a kettle, and then skims off the top, and boils itagain, and then turns it into the molds."

  "Come to luncheon, girls!" called Mr. Freeman, and they ran back to thegrassy field and the shade of the beech tree. On one side Lady wasnibbling her oats happily. The lunch basket stood open; Mr. Freemanhanded Rose a small tin drinking cup, and the girls ran down to thebrook for a drink of the clear water.

  "Cape Cod twists about Massachusetts Bay like a long arm, doesn't it,father?" said Rose, as they all seated themselves around the lunchbasket.

  Mr. Freeman laughed at Rose's description of the Cape, but nodded hishead in agreement.

  "I believe it does, my dear," he answered. "Province Town is the handcurved in, and Truro the wrist; Chatham must be the elbow, and now weare getting pretty well up to the shoulder."

  After luncheon they all went back to the shore, and picked up many tinyshells. Some of these were clear white, and others a delicate pink. Mr.Freeman told them that the Indian women pricked tiny holes, with a smallsharp-pointed awl, in these shells and strung them like beads, and Roseand Anne thought it would be a fine plan to carry a quantity of shellsto Boston and string them into necklaces.

  The time went swiftly, and when Mr. Freeman said that Lady had now had agood rest and would be quite ready to start on, the girls reluctantlyleft the beach and walked slowly toward the chaise.

  "I wonder where father and Lady are?" said Rose, and as she spoke Mr.Freeman came running across the little green field.

  "Lady is gone! Stolen, I'm afraid," he called out.

  The girls looked at him in amazement.

  "She was securely fastened, and even if she got loose would not havegone far," he continued, "and there is no trace of her." Mr. Freeman'sface was very anxious, and Rose exclaimed:

  "But who could take Lady, father? We have not seen a person since weleft Plymouth."

  "Some strolling person," answered Mr. Freeman; "perhaps some frightenedTory from one of the loyal settlements on his way toward a place ofsafety."

  Anne stood silent, holding up the skirt of her dress filled with thepretty shells.

  "And shall we have to walk to Boston?" asked Rose.

  "And leave this good chaise? I think not; though I hardly know how wecan remain here," said Mr. Freeman.

  For an hour or more they searched the near-by woods and up and down theroad, but there was no trace to be found of Lady, nor did they findanything to tell them of how she had vanished.

  "Your mother told me that it was no time for a visit so far from home,"said Mr. Freeman, "and if Lady is indeed stolen I shall have good reasonto wish that I had stayed at home. I hardly dare send you girls alongthe road alone, but if I leave this chaise it may disappear as Lady hasdone."

  "Where could we go, father?"

  "We are not far from Scituate, and any of the settlers who have a horsewould come back and get the chaise," he answered. "I do not know of anyharm that could befall you if you keep in the highway."

  "Of course we must go," Rose decided quickly, and Anne looked at herfriend admiringly, thinking, as she so often did, that she would like tobe exactly like Rose Freeman.

  In the excitement of discovering that Lady had disappeared Rose haddropped all the pretty shells she had gathered, but Anne was holdingher skirt tightly clasped.

  "Put your shells in the lunch basket, Anne," said Mr. Freeman; "I'llpick up those you have dropped, Rose. We shall reach Boston some time,and you will be glad of these to remind you of an adventurous journey,"and his smile made the girls ready to start off with better courage.

  "Stop at the first house on the road," directed Mr. Freeman; "tell themwho you are, and what has befallen us, and ask them to come to myassistance, and for permission to stay at the house until I come foryou."

  "Yes, father," replied Rose, and then she and Anne started down theroad. They kept in the shade for some distance, then the road ran up along sandy hill where the sun came down fully upon them, and before theyreached the summit they were very warm and tired.

  "There's a house!" exclaimed Anne, as they stopped to rest on the top ofthe hill.

  "Thank goodness!" exclaimed Rose. "And it's a farmhouse. See the bigbarns. There are sure to be horses there."

  The girls quite forgot the heat, and ran down the sandy hill andhurried along the road, which now was a smoother and better one than anyover which they had traveled, and in a short time were near thecomfortable farmhouse. A woman was standing in the doorway watchingthem.

  "Where in the world did you girls come from," she called out as theyopened the gate, "in all this heat? Come right in. I should think yourfolks must be crazy to let you walk in the sun. Was that your father whowent galloping by on a brown horse just now?"

  As soon as the woman finished speaking Rose told her their story.

  "Then that man had stolen your horse! A Tory, I'll wager; and likeenough a spy," said the woman; "and my menfolks all away. There are twohorses in the pasture; if you girls can catch one of 'em and ride itback to where your father's waiting, why, you're welcome."

  Anne and Rose looked at each other almost in dismay. Neither of them hadever been on the back of a horse, and to go into a pasture and catch astrange horse seemed to them very much like facing a wild beast.

  "We'll try," said Rose with a little smile.

  "I thought you would," said the woman approvingly. "I'd go myself, butI've got bread in the oven, and I must see to it."

  The woman led the way to a shed and filling a shallow pan with oats froma big bin, handed it to Rose, saying: "You go right through thosebars--leave 'em down; I'll put 'em up for you--and shake these oats andcall 'Range, Range,' and the old horse will be sure to come, and thecolt will follow."

  Rose took the pan, and Anne pulled back the heavy bars, and they went afew steps beyond the fence into the pasture and began to call "Range!Range!"

  In a moment there was the thud, thud of hoofs and two black horses camedashing down the pasture. Their long manes and tails gave them aterrifying look to the two girls, who, nevertheless, stood their ground,Rose holding out the pan as the woman had bidden her.

  "Oh, Rose! They'll run right over us!" exclaimed Anne, watching thehorses rushing toward them so swiftly.