Sitting by the fire in the early morning hours, surrounded by strangers and in a strange house, Nathaniel's mind turned to the journey he had endured that night. He hadn't allowed fear to drive him, only the need to follow the orders given by John, and to avoid capture. Sitting there, he considered just how dangerous their flight had been and how deeply embroiled they truly were in the events around them.

There was no turning back for him, even if he had wanted to. He gazed at Henri and Marie, both now asleep against him, and knew for certain he had made the correct choice. If his father in England had any thoughts left for him, Nathaniel was certain it wasn't to consider that he would step even farther from the country of his birth. If Harold Hill wondered even for a moment how his son fared during the events that were transpiring, certainly he believed Nathaniel would hold true to his upbringing as an English gentleman, even if he had failed to further his education or join the military service as his brothers had each done.

The thought that his brother Josiah might be sent to America if a war were to take place had never crossed Nathaniel's mind until that moment. Josiah had always been the one to embrace military life, the discipline and pride. He had listened with bated breath to their father's stories of the Seven Years' War, stories that had caused Samuel Hill to fear for his life as a boy and gave young Nathaniel nightmares through their brutality and frequent lack of humanity. Regardless of how he felt about his father, he hoped his brother would remain safe and unharmed when surely he was sent off to subdue America, however long that venture might take.

Nathaniel hoped the people of America wouldn't easily yield back into obedience. The people of Boston had welcomed Nathaniel when he had arrived. He had listened to the arguments both for and against the acts and taxes put on the colonies. He had watched the city unite and refuse to be forced into submission. While at first he had tried to remain neutral, over his three years in the city he grew to support the American opinion. For the purpose of his business he had always tried to remain publicly neutral, but privately he began to favor the rebels, even when he hadn't truly realized it. He often didn't agree with all of their tactics for spreading their message, but he certainly did not agree with the British policies that were being imposed on England's own subjects. It seemed to him that the needs of the American colonies were often ignored and that, had Parliament sought to come to agreements with the colonies on new policies instead of forcing them upon a people without a dependable voice, this entire business could have been avoided. The politics of it made his head throb.

Perhaps he had simply refused to accept the side of his father's country and so had a natural inclination to embrace the American view of things. Perhaps he had been so deeply hurt by his father's need to ostracize him that he had made the choice without much conscious thought. In truth, when he thought of England, he thought of his father and his demanding, old ways and expectations. When he thought of the American colonies he thought of something new and lively. Certainly not as free and open as he would have liked, given his arrest, but the people of the city had still supported him and returned to his coffeehouse. Some of them surely knew there was truth to his arrest, and they still visited his establishment and played cards with Henri.

As he finally felt himself drifting to sleep with many of the strangers in the room, Nathaniel felt hope edging in among his fears and worries. He was bearing witness to change of some kind, and he would hold firm to the hope that it was to be a good change.

He had only drifted in and out of sleep for a short time when he woke to movement and voices. The women were shuffling the children upstairs, away from the main room. Nathaniel noticed Jacob and his sons at the front door, speaking to someone just outside.

"What's happening?" Marie asked, looking around.

"I'm not certain," Nathaniel replied.

Henri groaned and rubbed his face. "I'm spending too much time sleeping on floors," he muttered.

"They are taking the children upstairs," Nathaniel told him. "I believe we can find chairs now."

They stood and took seats that were indeed more comfortable than the wooden floor. 

"Why are they taking them to bed now?" Marie questioned. "We've been here for a few hours. It's dawn."

Nathaniel wasn't certain. He saw one of the children, a boy of about thirteen, hesitate to go upstairs with the others. A woman finally called the name Thomas with some urgency and he retreated up the stairs. The other children seemed too tired to fight what their mothers and aunts were commanding.

"And so it has begun," Jacob said, returning from the front door. "Not long ago there was fighting at Lexington. The militia were outmatched but attempted a defense. The soldiers are moving on to Concord, but they know they have been challenged. More militias are coming in from all around by the minute."

"So, it is war indeed," Henri said.

Jacob looked at Marie. "I can find you a place to rest with the others upstairs. You surely don't wish to hear talk of what is happening each time we receive news."

Marie shook her head. "I would rather be here, thank you. I was one who helped acquire information from the soldiers at Nathaniel's house, after all. I think I understand as well as any man here just what is happening and what is at stake. I'm grateful for your concern and will gladly take my rest with the others once we know we are all quite safe. Until then, I would like to know what is happening around me."

Jacob looked rather surprised by her declaration, but he nodded. "Very well."

It was a day that didn't seem to be real to Nathaniel. The children and most of the women remained upstairs as the day wore on. Coffee was brought out soon after the news of Lexington had arrived. Talk centered around what may be happening in the countryside, fueled as more updates arrived throughout the day. There had been fighting near Concord, where a store of arms had been kept. Another group of soldiers had been sent out from the city to act as a reinforcing force, but still it seemed no match for the swelling militias.

When Nathaniel wasn't sitting with Marie and Henri, he paced the room. Jacob and his sons seemed happy to talk with them regarding other topics of polite conversation. Where had they all lived before Boston? When did they each arrive in America? Why had Nathaniel purchased the tavern and why did he prefer it to be a coffeehouse? Would Marie be planning to marry in the future? Jacob still had two sons who were unmarried, would she like to be introduced to them?

"Thank you, but I prefer my freedom," Marie replied, hardly looking away from her coffee cup.

Nathaniel was certain at one point he heard cannons firing, but he was assured the fighting was likely too far from them to be heard at the house. The children were still not allowed outside the house for the day despite this.

At last, they heard that the British had fully retreated into Boston, leaving behind some dead or badly injured soldiers along the way. The militias were also suffering from casualties, but they saw themselves victorious.

"I hope that nothing serious happens tonight," Jacob said as evening set in. "I'm certain the soldiers are all quite tired, as am I. I imagine you would enjoy some rest, as well." He motioned to Marie. "You can happily find accommodations upstairs with the others. My wife has been instructed to make room available for you for the night. Please, when you go there, assure them that all is well. We will know more of the situation come morning, I am sure. There is no use for anyone to worry now."

Marie rose from her seat and smoothed her skirts. "Thank you. I will do that. I look forward to knowing more in the morning." She bid Nathaniel and Henri goodnight, then went upstairs.

Jacob then turned to Nathaniel and Henri. "Unfortunately, I have only so many rooms available and I don't imagine you wish to lodge with so many young ones. Luckily, there is a small hut just outside the kitchen that has been recently deserted. It should be large enough for the both of you. Fear not, the occupant didn't die there and leave a room full of disease. My cook lived there until I allowed her to marry and live with her husband, my best animal caretaker. I've always believed the negroes work most diligently when allowed to be happy in such little ways."

Nathaniel nearly argued that the best way to keep workers happy and working diligently was to pay them and not to treat them as property, but he was in no position to chance losing the only shelter he would be able to safely find for the night. "Thank you," he said instead, words Henri echoed.

Jacob gave them instructions to find the hut, then continued, "If you wish to return to this room in the morning I'm certain we will have more accurate and detailed information about the situation."

"We will return then," Nathaniel assured him.

They easily found the hut a short time later. It was in a large garden filled with new spring growth, outside the kitchen door. The small building was made of logs and had a packed dirt floor. By the light of the lantern Henri held, Nathaniel could see the small hearth at the farthest end of the hut, beside which sat a small table and a single chair. A narrow bed was the only other furnishing in the room. Someone had recently placed a wash basin on the table, along with a folded cloth. On the bed were two folded blankets and two pillows. A stack of fresh firewood sat beside the hearth.

Nathaniel closed the door and was surprised to discover it had a bolt with which to lock it. The freedom to lock one's door was not something he had expected anyone to allow a slave, but he took advantage of its presence. He set his musket in a corner, then his bag down beside it. While Henri hung the lantern on a hook beside the hearth, Nathaniel crossed to the wash basin to splash water on his face, but had no strength left for anything more. He finally sat down on the bed with a tired groan.

He stared at the strange light and shadow cast by the flickering lantern for a long moment, until Henri sat beside him.

"Come, let's rest," Henri murmured.

Nathaniel nodded and removed his shoes. Then he settled on the bed with a yawn. Henri pulled one of the blankets over them, pulling Nathaniel snugly against his chest.

"It's a fortunate thing we're already so content with each other as bedmates," Henri observed. After a moment, though Nathaniel had given no reply, he asked, "What do you suppose is truly happening out there in the countryside?"

"Henri," Nathaniel mumbled. "I wish to sleep. Tomorrow, after I've rested, providing we can sleep without some other alarm causing us to leave this bed, I will certainly be contemplating whatever this mess is we are in."

Henri chuckled. "Very well. I am at least grateful we seem to be safe for the night."

Nathaniel was too tired for words. Instead, he simply nestled closer against Henri.