“’Tis lucky for you we put ashore,” said the man. “We’ll take you home, little maid, safe and sound.”
“You are not from Province Town?” Anne ventured to ask, looking up into the kind blue eyes.
“We are good English sailors, my girl,” the other man answered her question, “and we borrowed this boat from a settler up shore to get fish for His Majesty’s ship ‘Somerset’; but we’ll take you safe home, never fear.”
The blue-eyed man lifted Anne into the boat, and the two men were soon pulling strongly at the oars.
“’Tis a stiff pull to Province Town, but the tide’s with us, William,” said the last speaker.
Anne sat very quiet. She was wondering if Aunt Martha had missed her, and if Uncle Enos would blame her for having wandered to the outer beach. She looked up to see the sailor whom his companion called “William” smiling at her.
“Do not be afraid,” he said kindly; “the folks at home will be glad to see you, and you’ll not be scolded.”
Anne tried to smile back. She wanted to ask him if he had any little girls of his own; but she remembered that he was an Englishman, and decided that it was best not to say anything.
“Can you walk across the pasture if we set you ashore near here?” asked the sailor, when they had reached the smooth beach near where Anne had been seized by the Indians. “You’ll not be troubled again, and we cannot well round the point to-night.”
“I can get home from here. I see the pine woods,” Anne agreed, and the men ran the boat well up on the beach, and William lifted her out.