It was Miles's fifth return to Boston since leaving the cargo of the Abigail Cobb for Finley to sort out. As he had on each return previously, he noticed an improvement in the city. It still had an air of disrepair from its time in the hands of the besieged British army, but it was recovering. Miles liked to believe he had assisted in that with his prize cargoes. Though mostly of household goods, some valued more highly than others, he and Finley believed it was precisely what the city needed to reestablish daily life, at least in part, even if there were already complaints from officers in the army and the navy that privateers were causing all the men to join them by promising opportunities for wealth that the other vocations simply could not match. Miles had needed no effort to find members of his crew, so he thought little of the complaints about tempting away potential soldiers. 

Miles left his lieutenants to oversee the large merchantman they had brought into port, as well as its small crew that would be released shortly, though he took Turner as prize master with him to meet with Finley and Goodman. They were met by Davis at the docks. The lieutenant had been the prize master for the previous return to Boston, and was clearly happy to see them once more.

"What's in the hold?" he asked when they'd exchanged their greetings. His gaze was on the merchantman.

"Mostly household goods," Turner answered. "Some excellent silver and tableware included. Though the most excellent part is the wine. The crew will be unhappy to leave it behind."

Davis nodded. "I'm certain that will sell well. Mr. Finley says we did right well with the last prize haul. He sent me to bring you to his favorite coffeehouse to meet him."

Miles motioned for him to lead the way and they began walking from the docks. He had been meeting with Finley and Goodman at their own private office and put the change down to few coffeehouses having been open so soon after the British occupation. He rather enjoyed coffeehouses and was quite happy to follow Davis to the establishment. "Has your stay in Boston been satisfactory?" he asked, as he always did when meeting again with his prize masters. If they needed anything that Mr. Finley could not provide, Miles was determined to assist in whatever way he could.

"'Course," Davis replied. "Mr. Finley put me up at an inn and assured me it was at no expense to me or you, as usual. The costs come out of his share of the prizes."

Their prizes must be continuing to sell well if Finley was content with continuing to pay to put the prize masters in an inn. He had assumed the costs were removed from the prize money before it was divided. This was the first he had heard the costs coming only from the portion of the prize going to Finley and Goodman. Though Miles took the prize crew back onto the Scot to sail again after escorting each  prize to Boston, he left the prize masters behind to attend to any questions the court might have and act as his representative alongside Mr. Finley, which meant Finley was paying fees at his chosen inn without pause. He would need to speak to Finley and offer to change the arrangement to be more equitable between them.

"I am happy to hear that," he told Davis instead.

The coffeehouse Davis led them to appeared no different from any of the other buildings on the street, though a rectangular sign hung over the door displaying a mug of beer and a cup of coffee. It read Nat. Hill's Coffee & Drink. Miles had been in far more taverns than coffeehouses, but the establishment was much the same as any he'd been in. Tables were neatly arranged around a large room, with an unlit hearth at the rear and a bar beside a doorway to a kitchen and stairs at the other end of the structure. The windows and front door were open to allow in what breeze there was on such a hot summer day. The Englishman near the bar greeted them as they walked in, a greeting Miles and his lieutenants returned.

There were a dozen patrons in the house, and Miles was able to find Levi Finley and Jasper Goodman immediately. They were seated in a corner at the back of the room, near the dead hearth, talking quietly over some papers. They both looked up when Miles approached them, and stood to greet him.

"Davis says we had good prices on the last prize," Miles said when they had all exchanged pleasantries and settled at the table.

Finley nodded. "Every price could always be higher, but it wasn't a disappointment at all." He passed a paper of figures to Miles. "Total sale prices, less the fees and our percentage."

Miles couldn't hide a hint of his surprise. It, indeed, was not a bad price. The crew would certainly be happy. He set the paper aside with the log book he had brought with him. Once his conversation with Finley was concluded he would make his calculations so he could return to the Scot and inform the crew of their payments due.

"Davis informed me you've been paying the costs of the prize masters staying in Boston," he began. "I had presumed this was taken from the prize payments prior to it being divided. I have no issue with it if you wish to arrange it in that way instead of paying it all from your percentage."

Mr. Finley waved his concern away at the same moment Mr. Goodman shook his head.

"You have saved us a great deal of expense already in your management of the ship," Finley replied. "At this time, paying the cost to keep a room at an inn for our prize masters is not a terribly great expense. If that changes for any reason, we will certainly discuss it with you."

Miles reluctantly relented. "The offer remains, if needed."

"Thank you," Finley said with a smile, and Goodman nodded. "Now, I will extend my time at my office this evening so your men can receive their pay when it's convenient. Though I am always happy to hold portions for them if they wish some kept safe or sent home to their families, as always."

Miles nodded. "I will remind the crew of the arrangement. I'm certain those who need either service will request it, though I hope to make a visit to Nantucket Island and Dunnstown when we depart from Boston."

A young woman approached the table then. She wore a simple dress that was modest, unlike the women at many of the taverns Miles had visited in his years at sea. Her dark blond hair was tied back under a plain cap and her blue eyes gleamed. "Finest coffee in all of Boston for you," she declared in a heavy French accent and set mugs before Miles and his lieutenants. "If it isn't to your liking I will make it so, simply inform me of it."

Miles sipped the warm, rich drink, and smiled. "It is quite good. Thank you."

She smiled at him. "I don't recall seeing you here before. You must be a friend of Mr. Finley's, and you seem to have the bearing of a man of the sea."

"Captain Dunn is a business partner," Finley explained. "He is captain of the Scot privateer."

Her smile became a grin. "The British ship stolen from New York? That must have been a daring feat."

Miles chuckled. "I suppose it would seem that way."

"I am always honored to meet any man who would endanger so much for the cause of independence. Have you returned with a rich prize?"

Miles glanced at Finley at the mention of independence. That was something quite new to him. He turned back to the woman and nodded. "A merchantman with a nearly full hold of rather fine goods." 

"Then, please," she said, "have your drink there as thanks for bringing more goods into Boston. And are these men also your associates?"

"My lieutenants," Miles answered. "Good officers, both of them."

She nodded. "Their drinks are without cost as well. Please, enjoy and continue with your business."

"Thank you," Miles said, and both Turner and Davis echoed him.

As she walked away, Miles looked back to Finley. "Independence?" he asked. He noticed that Turner also appeared surprised at the word, but Davis did not. Whatever change had occurred, it had taken place while he had been in Boston to hear of it.

Levi Finley nodded. "It's quite a new development. Only last month Congress finally decided that reconciliation with Great Britain would be impractical and likely impossible. And so the colonies have become the United States of America by declaring ourselves independent from her rule."

"What does that mean for the war?" Turner questioned.

Finley shrugged. "That it's well and truly on, I presume. The King will not simply set us free, of that we are all quite certain. It will continue to be a struggle to fight for the independence we have declared. All across the states the declaration was read, and it's lifting the mood of many, at least for a time. Some are concerned, of course, that we will lose this war and what that will mean for all of us if we do, but the desire to be our own nation is stronger than what I had expected. Perhaps it will be over soon, or perhaps it will endure for another few years. General Washington seems prepared to endure whatever may happen next. I hear the army is currently preparing to defend the city of New York. We can only hope they are successful."

"The war will last until one side becomes tired of the endless killing," Mr. Goodman declared. "These colonies are too lucrative for the King to allow us to be free. Even as a trading partner, they would lose much."

Miles wasn't certain what he believed at that moment, but he knew one thing for certain. "The longer the war persists, the more profitable for those of us sitting here now, as long as America is the victor in the end of it all."

If the outcome was the reverse, they would all lose a great deal more than profit.

When they neared Nantucket and Dunnstown, Miles was surprised to receive a far colder welcome than they ever received at Boston or in Sherburne previously. A small boat approached them as they neared the island and Miles slowed the Scot to speak with the master of the boat.

"We don't want you and your ship near our shores," declared a thin man with wild gray hair. "We ain't throwing our lot in with this independence business, you see. Can't have you drawing British attention to us and making them think we're helping you."

"Nantucket has chosen to aid the British?" Miles asked.

The man shook his head and spat. "Ain't helping any side. Best way to make it so we can still fish, they say. Might not stop our boats and take the boys from 'em this way."

Miles wasn't entirely certain he was surprised by the development. There had been some grumbling about the Scot, his crew, and himself in their previous stops at the island. Miles had begun to purchase most supplies in Boston to avoid the growing number of sellers on the island who were no longer willing to offer Miles deals on supplies and had instead drastically raised their prices. He was thankful for that this time.

"We won't stop in Nantucket," Miles assured the man. As he spoke he noticed another man on the small boat begin toying with a pistol. "We will be going on to Dunnstown. Most of us live there and will be going to see our families. Good day to you."

Without waiting for any response from the man or his crew, Miles ordered the course adjusted to pass Nantucket and carry on to Dunntown. He would need to find some way to allow his crew who had family on the island to safely visit. He could already see a few of his crew standing at the rail and gazing at the island. They had no doubt overheard the conversation and were wondering how they would see their families. Perhaps some of them would like to move to Dunnstown, at least for a time.