As Sylvia left Uncle Peter and walked back to the house she was thinking of her promise to Mrs. Carleton.

“Perhaps she won’t ask me.  But if I could go and see Captain Carleton, and tell him that she was going to Boston with us, and then bring her back a message, I know she’d be happier,” thought the little girl.  And she thought, too, of the pleasure it would be to once more sail the Butterfly to Fort Sumter.

She sat down on the porch steps, and a moment later Estralla appeared bringing a plate of freshly baked sugar cookies from Aunt Connie.

“Mammy says she made these ’special for you, Missy,” declared Estralla smilingly.

“I’ll go and thank her myself,” said Sylvia, taking the plate, and offering one of the cookies to Estralla.

“Uncle Pete he say as de soldiers at Fort Sumter mus’ be gettin’ hungry,” said the little colored girl.  “I wish you and I could take Captain Carleton some of these cookies,” responded Sylvia.

“If you was black like I is we could go a-sailin’ right off to de fort in plain daylight,” said Estralla.

Sylvia sprang to her feet so quickly that she nearly upset the plate of cookies.

“Could we?  Oh, Estralla, could we really?” she exclaimed.

Estralla looked at her little mistress with wondering eyes.

“Yas, course; nobody’d mind two leetle nigger gals.  But you ain’t black, Missy.”

“But, Estralla, listen.  I could be black.  You could rub soot from the chimney all over my face and hands.  And I could pin my hair close on top of my head and twist one of your mammy’s handkerchiefs tight over it.  Then nobody would know me.”  Sylvia had quite forgotten the fine cookies.  She was holding Estralla by the arm, and talking very rapidly.  Estralla was almost frightened at Sylvia’s eagerness.

“Yas, Missy; but what for do you wanter go?” she asked.

“Oh, Estralla!  If the men are hungry we could carry them something to eat.  But most of all I want to see Captain Carleton, and get some message for his wife.  She is so unhappy to go away without a word.”

“Come ’long down in de garden,” said Estralla, now as interested as Sylvia herself, “an’ tells me more whar’ nobody’ll be hearin’,” and the two little girls hurried off to a far corner of the pleasant garden.

“Uncl’ Peter won’ let us take the boat,” Estralla objected as Sylvia told her how easy the plan would be; “an’ how be you gwine to get all blacked up without folks knowin’ it?”

But Sylvia had an answer for every objection.

“I’ll come to your cabin and dress up there, and I will ask your mammy to give me some food for a poor man.  Some cookies and a cake,” she said.  “We will start early to-morrow morning.  And, Estralla, we will have to tell Uncle Peter, or he won’t let us have the boat.”

“Lan’, Missy, I’ll do jes’ w’at yo’ says.  But I reckon Uncle Pete won’ let us.  Wat yo’ mammy gwine to think w’en you ain’t home to your dinner?” responded Estralla.  But she was finally convinced that Missy Sylvia could carry out the plan, and agreed to have a large quantity of soot ready at her mother’s cabin the next morning.