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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.
There was something actually girlish in his face, and it reminded him of Annabel. His heart softened toward him at once, and he remembered his own early troubles. He said gently to the boy: "You're right. What's your name, my boy?" "Abel Waite." "Well, Abel, we'll make a soldier out of you in a little while. You are the smallest; you'll be the left of the line. Go and stand there at the corner.
The ennemy that had discovered us in our goeing downe gott more company, with as many as they could to come to the passages, & there to waite for the retourne of those people, knowinge well that they could not stay there long because the season of the yeare was almost spent; but we made them by our persuasions goe downe to Quebecq, which proved well, ffor the Iroquoits thought they weare gone another way.
Keith fully realized Hope's peril, and his own helplessness to serve her in this emergency was agony. As they hurried back to the town, he briefly reviewed these conclusions with Waite and Fairbain, all alike agreeing there was nothing remaining for them to do except to take up the trail.
It seemed to Sylvia that her mother was very glad at the thought of returning to her former home. But Sylvia was not glad. What would become of Estralla? Mr. Waite had said that as long as Sylvia lived in his house the little colored girl could be her maid. But if they went to Boston and left Estralla behind Sylvia was sure that there would be nothing but trouble for the faithful little darky.
The sign represented the front of a stately edifice, which was designated as the "OLD PROVINCE HOUSE, kept by Thomas Waite."
The slender form swayed forward, shaken with sobs. "He was my father, and and this is my mother's picture which he always carried." "Then what is your name?" "Hope Waite." Kate Murphy looked, at the face half hidden in the bed-clothes. That was not the name which Keith had given her, but she had lived on the border too long to be inquisitive.
"He might be sulking at just the time when we need him this afternoon." "That would be unmilitary," retorted Mr. Waite. "Oh, no," said Dave lightly. "Even as good a soldier as Achilles sulked in his tent, you know." "Achilles? What class was he in, then?" demanded Waite. "I don't remember the name." "He was in a class of his own, at the siege of Troy," volunteered Farley.
Keith shook his head, feeling awakening interest in his peculiar companion. "No; just drifted in here from down on the Arkansas," he explained, briefly. "Did you know General Waite was dead?" The doctor's ruddy face whitened. "Dead? Willis Waite dead?" he repeated. "What do you mean, sir? Are you sure? When?"
Examiner Starr, having taken it upon himself to put the Egypt Trust case through, had found in Professor Waite a handy sort of a soft rubber stamp. Every afternoon, day by day, Starr had remarked casually to Vaniman, "Seeing that we have so many things to talk over, you'd better lodge with me at the hotel to-night!" And daily Vaniman agreed without a flicker of an eyelid.
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