1862

Lincoln nodded thoughtfully. “And he does fight. Halleck doesn't like him,” he said to Scott. “He's said so in his reports.” Scott chuckled. “Grant has proven himself better in the field than Halleck. Old Brains is jealous of other people's success.”

Lincoln paused, deep in thought. Finally he made his decision. “General, there is much merit in what you have said regarding England's role and her vulnerability. However, I must deal with a nation and a Congress that sees the real enemy as the Confederacy, and the heart of that enemy is its capital of Richmond. Sadly, we live in a political world and I must confront political realities. I've had to make many compromises and I will make more. For instance, I have appointed political mediocrities to military command in order to keep the remaining states satisfied and in line with my program of conquest of the South. To make what appears to be a digression in the war effort would be met with resounding and unmovable resistance. No, until and if the British give us a reason to change our focus and shift our priorities, we will not do anything significant regarding Canada.

“As regards the rest of it, General, I shall do what you suggest. Halleck will be transferred here to function as my administrator, and you shall be my adviser as regards the war. We shall send a column westward under McDowell, and I agree that Meade shall command here in Washington. But Canada? Not yet.”

“And what about General Grant?” Nathan asked with a boldness that surprised him.

Lincoln smiled and it appeared to Nathan that it was the same smile that a cat would give a cornered canary. “General Scott trusts you, and it is likely that General Grant will as well. Therefore, I would like you to go to Grant with a private message. Simply put, he is to hold himself ready to invade Canada and to prepare for it. However, he is not to move until I give him the specific go-ahead. Any thoughts of Canada must be secret. He should tell his staff that he is pla

Nathan felt his heart racing. “I am honored, sir.”

Ha

What they didn't have was the knowledge to use them. Two things were forbidden to slaves more than any other. One was literacy, since knowledge is power, and the second was how to kill using a rifle.

Ha

By trial and error, and with no serious accidents, they figured out how to fire their guns with killing effect. But now their numbers had grown to a dozen, and they needed more weapons to defend their newfound freedom. It was then that Ha

They had no idea whether the armed men in and around the woods in which they hid were after them in particular or runaway slaves in general. Ha

For the slave catcher, times were good.

Three white men squatted by the campfire in the woodland clearing. Although dressed in rags, they were armed with rifles and pistols and had large knives in their belts. Slung by their saddles were chains to shackle captured runaways, and whips to beat them into submission. The three had been drinking heavily when Ha

Nervously, almost shyly, Bessie shed herself of her clothing. Then she rolled in the dirt and mussed her hair to make herself disheveled and filthy. She smiled tentatively at Ha

The three men heard the sounds and lurched to their feet just as Bessie emerged naked into the firelight. Even though she had lost weight during their flight, she was still a large woman and her pendulous breasts swayed as she lurched forward. She looked in sudden alarm at the three men, screamed, and ran back into the dark and the surrounding woods. Ha

“Goddamn!” yelled one of the slave catchers. “A free one.” They grabbed their rifles and stumbled after her. Within a few yards, they had stretched out and were no longer a group of three. Bessie could still be seen, stumbling and crying out, a few yards ahead. They made no move to shoot her. As Ha

Finally, she disappeared into a stand of bushes. The first two slave catchers paused, wondering where she'd emerge. When they stopped, both concealed muskets fired and bullets struck them, knocking them to the ground. With a howl, others in Ha

Ha

Or they would kill and die trying.

Rebecca offered tea, which Nathan accepted politely. Tea was not his favorite hot drink. Given a choice, he would have preferred coffee or even hot chocolate.

They were in Rebecca's cousin's overly ornate sitting room. It was the first time he'd been to her Washington home and he was curious as to how she lived, even though it wasn't her house. There was a sense of prosperity in the dwelling, but not great wealth. It was obvious that Rebecca was very comfortable in it.

They were alone in the sitting room but, to maintain propriety, they sat on chairs facing each other. The door to the hallway was also open. The others in the house respected their privacy while giving them no room for mischief.

Nathan thought it amusing that there was so much concern on her cousins' part for other people's virtue. When he hinted of the incongruity to Rebecca, she'd laughed heartily. After all, they were both formerly married and, presumably, far from being i

Rebecca wore a blue floral print dress that was very summery. The neckline exposed a hint of shoulder, and the sleeves were short and showed her slender arms. The overall effect was to make her look more vibrant than he'd seen before. She had virtually ceased wearing mourning clothes: and this dress was an a

The mildly daring cut of the gown also showed the scar on her neck. He took this as a further sign of her growing independence and freedom from the past. “So: Nathan: once again you are leaving me,” she said reprovingly.