The Whiskey Rebel

At once Cynthia’s face clouded over and I heard a creak upon the floorboards of the adjoining room. Pearson crept closer, hoping to hear her response.

“I am sorry you lost your husband,” said Mrs. Pearson. “It sounds as though there were never two more compatible people.”

I had long since sensed that she and her husband were far from companionable, and so I did not press the issue. I had what I wanted-Pearson’s secret attention-and I meant to press the attack.

“I wish I could understand other men as well as I understood my husband,” I said to Mrs. Pearson. “It is on that score I wished your advice. You know I am friends with Mr. Duer?”

“The world knows it,” she said, her words containing more than what was spoken, though I know not what else. I flattered myself it was no more than curiosity.

I put my hand to my mouth. “I hope no one suggests anything improper.”

She shook her head. “One need only look upon the two of you. He regards you more like a daughter, I believe, than anything else.”

“I am glad to hear you say so. He is a clever man, and I have learned a great deal from him, but he is, I am afraid, rather dismissive of some of my ideas. You say he treats me like a daughter, but sometimes he treats me like a child. I wish to present a proposal to him, one I believe could make him a great deal of money, but I must suggest it in just the right way, lest he dismiss it out of hand.”

Mrs. Pearson began to offer up much sage advice on soothing male pride, but I only pretended to listen. My heart beat hard in my chest. I could only hope this scheme would work, because if it did not, I would have to take a much more direct approach, and the more Pearson believed the idea his and not mine, the greater my chance of success.

All this concern was for nothing. As I left the house, Pearson came after me, not precisely racing but walking in his slow, methodical, stiff ma

“You will forgive me, madam,” he said, “but inadvertently I overheard what you said to my wife. It is true that Duer may not take your proposal seriously, but you may be assured he will take it seriously from me. He has learned to trust me.”

“Indeed he has,” I said.

He placed one of his large hands on my elbow, perhaps because he had seen Duer touch me thus. I hated when Duer touched me, and yet I did not fear him the way I feared Pearson. Duer was merely a vile self-centered villain. Pearson, I was begi

“You must tell me what you have in mind,” he said, “and if I like it, I shall present the idea to Duer. If he wishes to implement it, we shall tell him whose idea it was.”

“Why, that is generous of you,” I said, offering him my most gracious smile. “Shall we return to the house and discuss it?”

“By all means.”

I looked up and there, at the window, was Mrs. Pearson peering down at us with concern in her eyes. At first I thought she suspected I had some evil design upon her husband, but then our eyes met, and I realized her concern was for me.

In my madness to destroy Duer and Hamilton, in my hatred for Pearson, I had refused to think of Mrs. Pearson, that lovely, intelligent, and oppressed creature. I had refused to consider her children. They too would be destroyed with Pearson; when Duer and Hamilton and the rest came undone, the i

I had come much too far to turn away on such an account. I could not refuse to fight a war because there might be i

Ethan Saunders

A new morning met me in New York. Leonidas and I breakfasted together, and I informed him we would waste no time in pressing forward. To that end, I said we would spend the day-unless something of greater interest revealed itself-in the Merchants’ Coffeehouse, which I knew from my time living in this city to be the financial center of New York. At the corner of Wall and Water streets, the Merchants’ was a handsome structure in the New York style, bold on the outside, spacious within. The taproom of this establishment was commodious and comfortable, with several fireplaces and a surplus of candles to keep the place well lit. It was filled by a wide variety of gentleman, most of whom appeared to me to be too old and too fat to warrant much respect.

Leonidas garnered a few curious looks from those uncomfortable with the notion of socializing with Negroes, and he suggested he return to our rooms. I would not let him go. “I need to have someone to speak to. I do better thinking when I can speak my ideas aloud.”

“Then you may hire a whore to sit and talk with you, if it is all the same.”

“Don’t be so sensitive. You are like a jilted lover. In any event, you must know by now that you are more than a person with whom I can engage in dialogue. You are proving to be a very capable spy yourself, Leonidas.”

He appeared pleased with my saying it. “But what of the looks? The traders don’t like a Negro here.”

“Even stronger than their dislike is their greed and indifference. If there were one of those instructional books, an Every Man His Own Spy or something of that nature, one of the chapters would certainly instruct you to act, everywhere you go, as if you belong there. That, more than anything else, will keep you safe. Now, let us see what sort of trouble we can cause. You there.” I grabbed a passing trader. “Is it true that the Million Bank launches next week?”

He snorted. “Yes, but what of it? The Million Bank is a sham, a scheme rooted in political mischief and greed. No one but a fool will waste his money upon it.”

I affected a look of surprise “Are you certain? I know for a fact that Duer means to invest heavily. Can the great Duer be mistaken?”

Something changed upon the man’s face. “You are certain of that?”

“From the man’s lips himself,” I said.

“Then for God’s sake, tell no one else,” he said, and hurried off.

“There will always be a storm,” I told Leonidas. “You may be rained upon or cause the rain yourself. I very much prefer the latter.”

“What do you imagine he prefers?” Leonidas asked, pointing to a table across the room.

Drinking coffee, with an expression of utter seriousness, was my old friend Kyler Lavien.

He was alone at his table, so Leonidas and I sat down to join him. “Good afternoon, Leonidas, Captain Saunders. What are you doing here?”

“You know what I’m doing here,” I said. “I’m looking for Pearson.”

He smiled. “I understand that you have good reason to do so, and he has good reason to fear your finding him, but that doesn’t explain why you went out to Greenwich to see Duer.”

“You know about that?”

He leaned forward. “I know about everything, at least in the end. I want you to stay away from Duer.”

“Duer is my best chance of finding Pearson. There is something improper in their dealings, but they do business together somehow, and, at least for Pearson, it is a desperate business. If I stir things up for Duer sufficiently, Pearson will emerge.”

“If I can find out anything about where Pearson is, I shall tell you.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, “but I trust you won’t mind if I continue to look on my own.”

“As it happens, I do mind. There are things in play now-delicate things. I ca