“The day after Christmas we will select the lockets, and see about the pictures,” said Mrs. Fulton.  Before Sylvia could answer there came a tap at the door, and Aunt Connie, evidently rather anxious and uncertain, whispered: 

“Dar’s a lady, Mistress, a lady f’um de fort, an’ she say—­”

“It must be Mrs. Carleton.  I’ll go right down,” responded Mrs. Fulton, and, followed by Sylvia, she hurried down the stairs, to find Mrs. Carleton awaiting them.

“Captain Carleton insisted that I should come to you,” she said.  “He feels sure that the Charleston men mean to take Fort Sumter at once.  Major Anderson is sending the women and children away from Fort Moultrie to places of safety.”

“Of course you must stay with us, and we are delighted to have you,” said Mrs. Fulton.  “We want to stay in Charleston unless it becomes necessary for us to leave.”

Mrs. Carleton greeted Sylvia warmly, and, greatly to her surprise, said: 

“I have not had the opportunity to thank you, dear child, for delivering the message safely.  We have heard that Mr. Doane has presented the letter to the President, and Major Anderson is sure that reinforcements and provisions for the forts will be sent at once.”  Then turning to Mrs. Fulton, she continued:  “I know this loyal child kept her secret, and that even you and her father do not realize what a service your little daughter has rendered to the cause of Freedom!”

Mrs. Fulton was looking at her visitor in amazement.

“Sylvia!  Message!  Secret?” she exclaimed in such a puzzled tone that both Mrs. Carleton and Sylvia laughed aloud.

“Tell her, Sylvia!  And I want to hear how you delivered the letter,” said Mrs. Carleton.

So Sylvia told the story of creeping out of the house at nearly midnight, of the man who had declared her to be a runaway darky, of Estralla following her, and of their return.  “And the door was closed and fastened, although I left it open,” she concluded.

Mrs. Fulton recalled that one night they had been slightly disturbed by some unusual noise and that Mr. Fulton had gone down-stairs and discovered the front door open.  “And we blamed Aunt Connie,” she added.

“I did want to tell you, Mother,” said Sylvia, “but it’s even better to have Mrs. Carleton tell you.”

That evening the story was retold to Mr. Fulton, who listened with even more surprise than Sylvia’s mother had shown.  He said that Estralla had been as brave as Sylvia, and that he wished he could do an equal service for the United States.

“This will be a fine story to tell Grandma Fulton,” he whispered to Sylvia, when he gave her his good-night kiss.

She awoke early, before Estralla appeared with the usual pitcher of hot water and to light the fire in the grate, and in a moment was out of bed and at her desk.  She opened the envelope very carefully, expecting to see the pictured face of her kind friend smiling at her, But there was no picture.  There were only two documents tied with red tape, and with big red seals on them, and a number of printed and signed papers.