“Would Father let us?” Anna asked doubtfully.
“Don’t you see? We must go after it without telling anyone; then when we bring it back the men can drive off or capture the gunboat,” Rebecca explained.
“I think Father ought to know,” persisted Anna, so that at last Rebby said no more, after Anna had promised not to repeat Rebby’s plan to anyone.
But Rebby slept but little that night. If the gunboat fired on the town she felt it would be her fault for having kept Lucia’s secret to herself; and yet she dared not break a promise. In some way Rebby felt that she must do something to make right her foolish act in helping Lucia set the liberty tree adrift.
The next day Captain Jones began his preparations to load the sloops with lumber for Boston, and the Machias men, doubtful of the Captain’s loyalty, determined that the sloops should not return to Boston. Rebby and Anna were in the lumber yard filling a basket with chips, when a number of men talking of this decision passed them.
“If we only had more powder and shot,” said one; “but we cannot spare a single man to go to Chandler’s River after supplies.”
“There, Anna!” exclaimed Rebby. “Did you hear what those men said? Do you not see that we can help as much as a real soldier? We can go to Chandler’s River. We must.”
“Perhaps Father would give us permission if we asked him,” Anna persisted. But Rebecca shook her head at this suggestion; she dared not risk the chance of a refusal.
“We ought to go at once,” she said earnestly. “’Twill be a long tramp, and the gunboat may come up the harbor and threaten the settlement any day. Do say you will go, Anna.”
Rebby knew that Anna’s knowledge of the forest, her strength and courage, would be all that could enable her to undertake the task. Without Anna she feared that she might fail in finding her way, and never reach Chandler’s River.