Stone walls,
very likely, sheltered a good many well-worn little shoes, of a
Puritan Sabbath, that their prudent owners might appear in the House
of God trimly shod. Ah! these beautiful, new, peaked-toed, high-heeled
shoes of Ann's--what would she have said to walking in them all the
way to meeting!
If that Sunday was an eventful one to Ann Wales, so was the week
following. The next Tuesday, right after dinner, she was up in a
little unfinished chamber over the kitchen, where they did such work
when the weather permitted, carding wool. All at once, she heard
voices down below. They had a strange inflection, which gave her
warning at once. She dropped her work and listened. "What is the
matter?" thought she.
Then there was a heavy tramp on the stairs, and Captain Abraham French
stood in the door, his stern weather-beaten face white and set. Mrs.
Polly followed him, looking very pale and excited.
"When did you see anything of our Hannah?" asked Captain French,
controlling as best he could the tremor in his resolute voice.
Ann rose, gathering up her big blue apron, cards, wool and all. "Oh,"
she cried, "not since last Sabbath, at meeting! What is it?"
"She's lost," answered Captain French. "She started to go up to her
Aunt Sarah's Monday forenoon; and Enos has just been down, and they
haven't seen anything of her.
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