Master of Disguise

By Dr. Anne R. Murray Ed.D.

Master of Disguise is a historical novel, centered on the American Revolutionary War. It is a story of courage, strength and bravery. The story depicted aspects of what happened due to the results of war.

The main characters tell of a time when life was difficult, a time that lost its innocence and a time for all to thrive on living. The historical era determined our fate and our future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728342085

Dr. Anne R. Murray Ed.D.

Dr. Anne R. Murray has written for several years. She has explored different avenues of writing: freelance, poetry and creative. Her dedication to writing has produced ten books so far. Dr. Murray earned a doctorate in education and taught public high school until she earned a well-deserved retirement.

Book preview

Prologue

The beautiful sunset fell before the turning of dusk. Multiple colors of purple, red, orange and blue shone brilliantly against the sky, as strands of golden rays began to fade behind the hill. It was early evening; lightness began to cast a shadow on the vast land of country pasture. Spring wouldn’t be here for a couple of months. The grasslands and plains would make their appearance known then. Visible signs of winter made their presence, as a frozen layer of earth lay dormant, cresting in different directions. A fresh blanket of snow lay among a large field of frozen daffodils and ragweed. The snow covered the distance of the land and glowed as darkness approached.

There was chilliness in the air, as frost crept across the countryside. Another snowstorm was coming soon in the near distance. This would be more treacherous and threatening than the snow earlier that week. Townspeople were anticipating a heavy snowstorm within the next couple of days. During the winter season, the temperature often dropped to the low teens or single numbers. It was a reminder of the bitter cold abyss of wind and air, with heavy precipitation preceding the storm.

The setting was in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in the year 1778. The New Year brought many surprises. The war had been happening for nearly three years. No one knew when it would end or which side would win. There was a wave of controversy among conservatives. Some were sympathetic with the British, whereas revolutionaries fought for independence and freedom. There was a new coalition of Loyalists that existed. Philadelphia held the secrets of Congress within its walls and their fight for unity among the colonies.

All was silent, as quietness spread throughout the countryside, softly whispering to welcome the beauty of silence at that moment. There was not a stir, not a sound, as if the land had fallen still and barren. Only the echoes of wind shifting throughout the land could be heard. And yet, the silence would soon be broken.

Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by the sound of horses galloping down the long country road. The briskness of the horses was fast and furious, as they were gaining speed. Upfront, a young man in his mid- to late teens was riding with a high-paced speed. In his right hand, was a handgun, which he carried to protect himself. Following close behind him, were three men. All the men were armed. The young man drew his gun, as shots rang out. The men were firing at the young man, as he looked over his right shoulder to aim his gun. After several shots, his gun jammed. Frustrated, he threw it to the ground. This was the opportunity for one of the men to take fire at close range. He aimed at the young man’s head. Instead, the bullet hit the young man’s left arm. He continued to ride fast and furious, trying to set distance between him and the men. Another shot rang out. The young man’s body slumped, as his horse continued to gallop. Yet, the young man continued riding his horse until he reached an area not too far from town. His horse continued to gallop toward town. The young man fell from the saddle. His lifeless body lay in the middle of the road, motionless and still.

The men behind him suddenly slowed their horses down and came to a complete stop. Looking at the young man in the road, they looked with astonishment, as one man remarked, He’s dead. Let’s get going. The men rode off toward the other direction. They wanted to get out of sight as fast as they could.

By dusk, the town was settling in for the night. The blacksmith, Butch Smith, was shoeing a horse before darkness fell. He was finishing with his last customer of the day, a four-year-old mare. The horse was active and wore her shoes down rapidly. Bessie, as her owner called her, was less than happy about her newly iron-clad horseshoes. She gave Butch a hard time and swung her tail swiftly side to side as each shoe was nailed on. Butch was about finished with all four feet, when a stallion rode into town. It looked familiar and the amazing part, the horse was alone. No rider was in the saddle.

A townsman walking by noticed the horse running into town. It stopped abruptly before Butch’s shop. Isn’t that Jeffrey’s horse? he asked.

Butch looked up and noticed the flamingo-looking horse. Well, I believe so. I shoed one of the horse’s front legs last month, he commented. Butch went over to the horse and lifted his right front leg. Sure enough, it was a brand-new shoe.

I wonder where Jeffrey is? the townsman asked.

If I knew that, I wouldn’t be standing here, Butch answered. Maybe he will be along. Funny, how his horse made it to town before him.

The two men looked in the direction of the main road coming into town. A horse was approaching at a quick pace. The men thought it strange that it was a rider they didn’t recognize. In the saddle was a stranger. Wrapped around with rope to secure him, lay the young man straddled across his saddle.

Is there a doctor in town? This boy needs a doctor quick! the man exclaimed.

There is one across the street, the townsman replied. I will go send for him. The townsman walked quickly over to the doctor’s office. Dr. Hemming had been the town’s doctor for over twenty-five years. He had delivered more babies in town than the previous doctor.

Within a few minutes, a middle-aged man hurriedly walked with the townsman to where the stranger and Jeffrey were. The doctor looked at Jeffrey, not moving and pale.

Is he alive, doc? Butch asked.

Barely, but he still has a slight pulse. How long has he been unconscious? the doctor asked, looking at the stranger.

I don’t know, sir, the stranger explained. I just found him lying in the middle of the road leading to town.

Very well, please help bring him to my office across the street, the doctor requested.

The stranger untied Jeffrey from the saddle and helped the other men carry him across the street. There, the doctor examined Jeffrey in his back office. You need to send word to the lawman to fetch his father, the doctor said.

Is it that serious? Butch asked.

It’s pretty serious. He has lost a great deal of blood and in need of surgery to remove the bullets, the doctor replied.

I can get my son. Leonard would be quicker, Butch said.

I don’t care who gets him. He needs to be told right away, Dr. Hemming said.

Butch went home to fetch his eldest son, Leonard. The fourteen-year-old was the oldest of five children. Leonard was opposite his father: tall, lean and slinky. Butch was muscularly built and medium tall. Leonard was a growing boy and would likely be taller than his father when fully grown. Leonard hesitated, but respected his father. He rode out to Jeffrey’s home, where he lived with his father. Harry Hopson was a farmer and owned hundreds of acres. He owned a farmhouse with livestock and crops for harvesting. The farmhouse wasn’t but a few miles from town.

Mr. Hopson was also a widower. He lost his wife when Jeffrey was only two years old. He reared Jeffrey by himself for fifteen years. Jeffrey had an older brother, Joseph, who died nearly five years before Jeffrey’s birth. He had died in infancy. The five-month-old was sleeping in his crib. One morning, Mrs. Hopson went to wake him in the morning. Joseph did not wake up; he had died in his sleep. No one really knows why or how he died. A modern-day condition called Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) seemed to be the culprit.

Leonard rode his horse to the farmhouse. He saw Mr. Hopson outside the barn, feeding the hens and rooster. Mr. Hopson, you are wanted in town, Leonard stated.

Mr. Hopson looked up as Leonard spoke. Hello, Leonard, Harry answered. I told your father I would be in town this week, but didn’t give a day. It’s too late to go to town tonight.

No, sir, that is not why I’m here, Leonard advised. The doctor needs to see you right away.

The doctor! exclaimed Harry. I have no business with him tonight.

Leonard looked at Mr. Hopson. He hated to break the bad news about his son, but he needed to do so. After all, his father relied on him. Pa sent me to fetch you into town. Jeffrey has been shot. He needs surgery right away, Leonard advised.

Jeffrey! Jeffrey has been shot! Harry exclaimed, finding it hard to believe. "Where was he shot?

I don’t know, sir, Leonard said. I just am delivering a message for the doctor.

Mr. Hopson looked down and shook his head. He was in denial and shock. I will get ready and go to town right away. Leonard rode back into town.

Harry saddled his horse and rode into town in less than ten minutes. Once he reached the doctor’s office, he entered inside the small building. Dr. Hemming was waiting on him to arrive. Sorry, doc, I got here as fast as I could, he stated, looking perplexed. What is this about my boy has been shot?

I won’t sugarcoat it, Harry, the doctor advised. It’s pretty serious. Your son has lost a lot of blood and in need of emergency surgery. Do I have your permission?

Why, yes, of course. Anything he needs to save his life. What happened? Harry asked.

I’m uncertain. A man brought him into town about a half-hour ago. Jeffrey was unconscious and barely alive, the doctor advised.

You’re just contacting me now? Harry asked.

Jeffrey was losing blood rapidly. I was trying to stop the blood. Apparently, a main artery was hit when he was shot, the doctor explained.

Sorry, doc, Harry said, feeling tense and anxious. Jeffrey is my only living son, my only boy. I don’t want to lose him too.

I understand, but I need to get in there and stop the bleeding, the doctor stated. Dr. Hemming didn’t have time for conversation; he needed to do surgery that night. The sooner, the better, as Jeffrey was fighting for his life.

Okay, doc, Harry said, as he sat down in the waiting room. The surgery took well over an hour. There were two bullets to remove. One was behind the left arm just below the shoulder and the other one in the upper back. The bullet to the arm was easy to remove, while the bullet to the back took more time to remove. It was close to the spinal column, controlling the nerves and muscles. One false move and Jeffrey could be paralyzed for life. Dr. Hemming tried to stop the bleeding as best he could. For now, Jeffrey would be monitored and hopefully make it through the night.

The doctor came out to the waiting room, where a nervous Harry sat. Harry, your boy made it through surgery. I removed two bullets: one from his arm and the other one from his back. He was fortunate. The bullet to the back was close. A half-inch more and he might have had permanent paralysis for life, the doctor advised.

What kind of paralysis? Harry asked.

Paralyzed, the doctor stated.

Harry looked at the doctor in a daze. His face had turned a pale shade of white. His son would have been crippled for life. He was too young to live the rest of his life like that. What now, doc? he asked.

I will continue to monitor him overnight, the doctor stated. He will probably sleep until morning. I will see how he feels if he wakes up tomorrow.

What do you mean if he wakes up? Harry asked, looking stunned.

Your son has been through a tremendous shock to his body, the doctor advised. He might not wake up immediately.

Are you trying to tell me he might not wake up at all? Harry asked.

I didn’t say that. He might wake up tomorrow or he might be out for awhile, the doctor advised.

How long is awhile, doc? Harry asked.

I won’t lie to you. Your son is critical. He is in a coma right now, Dr. Hemming answered. I just want to monitor him overnight until he wakes up.

Harry was silent for a few seconds. He was trying to hold back tears. Can I see him? he asked.

Yes, but please do not disturb his bandages. I have him wrapped to stop the bleeding, the doctor explained.

Has he not stopped bleeding yet? Harry asked, afraid to know the answer.

He has for now. I managed to control his bleeding in surgery, the doctor stated. But any movement and the bleeding might start again.

I won’t disturb him, doc. I only want to see my boy, Harry insisted.

Dr. Hemming left the waiting room, as a nervous Harry followed the nurse to the back office. The nurse opened the door. Harry stepped into a tiny room. Jeffrey was lying on his back, but heavily bandaged around his arm and back. There was complete silence. Harry looked down at his son. Jeffrey began to swell a little, especially around the surgical areas. His face was pale and gaunt. Harry sat down beside the bed. He took his son’s hands into his and began to cry. He was not a church-going man, but if ever a time to pray, it was now. He sat there with his head bowed.

In another hour, Dr. Hemming came to check on Jeffrey. Harry, you might as well go home. Your boy is out of it. Please go home and I will send for you when he wakes up, the doctor stated.

I want to stay with my boy, Harry insisted.

Harry, you are tired and there is nothing we can do tonight for Jeffrey, the doctor said.

Doc, can Jeffrey hear me, even though he’s in a coma? Harry asked.

Yes, some doctors believe that the patient can hear voices, even in a coma. Why? Dr. Hemming asked.

Because I want to be here to comfort my son, Harry answered. If he can hear my voice and feel me touch his hands, then I want to stay with him.

Harry, I have no place for you to sleep, the doctor answered. This tiny office barely has room for one patient. Plus, I don’t want two patients on my hands. I promise I will send for you, as soon as he begins to wake up.

Well, I have known you for years. I trust you, Harry replied. Please send for me right away if any changes.

I will, the doctor responded. Harry reluctantly left his son’s bedside. He would return first thing in the morning to see if Jeffrey was awake.

Meanwhile, the stranger sat at the lawman’s office. The lawman was appointed to obstruct the law. William Holcomb was a lawful man, loyal and dedicated to serve the people. He interviewed the stranger that night.

What is your name? You are not from around here, the lawman said. I know just about everybody in town and surrounding area.

My name is Peter Garrett and I’m from Germantown, the stranger responded.

You brought the boy into town? William asked.

Yes, he was lying in the middle of the road near town. There was no one else around. I picked him up and brought him into town, Peter answered.

How near town? the lawman asked.

Within a mile, the stranger replied.

What time did you find the boy? William asked.

It was shortly before dusk. I would say around six. I saw the outline of something on the road. It was dark by then and I couldn’t tell at first what it was. As I approached closer, I realized it was a body, Peter responded.

How did you happen to be on the road that late? William asked.

I was headed for town to spend the night, Peter responded.

Germantown is not that far away from here, roughly seventeen miles, the lawman reported.

True, but I have a business appointment first thing in the morning, the stranger said. I didn’t want to oversleep and miss it.

What kind of appointment? the lawman asked.

I have business with the local bank, Peter explained. He did not sound convincing.

William changed the subject. You didn’t see anyone around that area? he asked.

No, I told you it had already begun to get dark. I couldn’t see anybody, even if they were standing there, Peter stated. He seemed a little agitated. Can I please go? I didn’t harm the boy; I brought him into town.

Mr. Garrett, I appreciate that. He is the son of a long-standing citizen of Philadelphia, the lawman stated. He is young, around seventeen and the only child.

How is the boy doing? the stranger asked.

I don’t know, William answered, surprised that the stranger asked. Last time I heard, he was in surgery.

That’s too bad, the stranger said. I have a son about his age, around fifteen.

I guess you can go for now, William said. Please stay in town tomorrow.

Why is that? the stranger asked. He looked annoyed. He didn’t want to stay longer in town than he had to. He thought he had done a good deed. Now, he was being treated as a suspect.

I might have more questions, William answered. Where are you staying overnight?

At the local hotel down the street, the stranger answered. He then left with a frown on his face.

The lawman went over to the doctor’s office to check on Jeffrey’s progress.

The night seemed endless to Harry. He lay restless for several hours until he finally drifted off to sleep in the early morning hours. He had to trust Dr. Hemming at his word. He had been friends with him for a very long time. Dr. Hemming had delivered Jeffrey at birth, as well as his older brother, Joseph. He knew his wife, Carolyn, and treated her illness shortly before her death. Carolyn had died from complications of a major lung condition. She had developed a lung infection and pneumonia set in. Within a week, she had passed away.

Unfortunately, Jeffrey succumbed to his injuries. The bullet to the back was the fatal blow. He would never recover. He had lost a massive amount of blood and was pronounced dead by Dr. Hemming at three in the morning. He never regained consciousness and died peacefully. His father would come to know his son’s fate in the morning.

The lawman had let the stranger go the next morning, without more questioning. William went out to investigate the site where Jeffrey was shot. There were several tracks in the road, due to the snow. The snow made it harder to trace actual horse prints from the killer(s). There was blood where the boy fell off his horse. There was a trail of blood a hundred feet leading to the shooting site. He found Jeffrey’s handgun about 50 yards away. It was frozen in the snow, but appeared to be jammed. From what William found, it looked like Jeffrey tried to get away. William continues the other direction toward a fork in the road. Something struck William that looked strange to him. He found at least three sets of horse prints coming from the left, whereas he saw only one set coming from the right. They seemed to have been fresh prints too, like within a day old.

William reported his findings to the mayor later that morning. Major Theodore (Theo) Dickerson had been in the public eye for years. Where was the boy actually shot? the major asked.

Roughly a mile outside town. There is a rock formula in that area. The locals call it Plymouth Rock, as it is a cluster of rocks. The stranger was right. He said it was not too far from town. I think the boy was trying to make it into town for help, when his killer(s) caught him, William advised.

Any leads you found? the major asked.

Just what I told you, William answered.

Why didn’t you keep the stranger longer? the major asked.

I had no more questions for him. I let him go about his business early this morning. He said he had bank business to attend to, William advised.

Did you check with the bank to confirm his statement? He might even be using a false name, Mayor Dickerson explained. Any idea where he was coming from?

He said he was from Germantown, William responded.

Germantown! the mayor exclaimed. That seems strange to come all this way just for bank business. They have a bank there too.

William looked away. He had a feeling deep inside his gut. I don’t think he was telling the complete truth – something in his story, William said.

I would check with the bank this morning. Also, check to see if he actually lives in Germantown. Hopefully, his name isn’t fraudulent either, the mayor said. I would have kept him longer until I verified his story. If you know him, you have better luck, but he is a stranger in town.

William looked away from the mayor. The mayor was right. William was more trusting of people, but in this world, you can’t be too trusting. William shook his head and left the major’s office. He proceeded to the bank to collaborate the stranger’s story.

Three days later, Jeffrey was buried, alongside his mother and brother Joseph. Everyone in town attended his funeral and were shocked that Jeffrey lost his life in the matter he did. He was too young to die. Harry was expecting Jeffrey to inherit the farm and property. He was looking forward to grandchildren and Jeffrey taking over the farm. Now, he was burying his young son. Harry would not get to see his son married and have a family of his own. He would not see him prosper and thrive.

Shock turned to sorrow and loss, which soon turned into anger. Harry was mad. Besides his wife and other child, he had lost the most important person in his life – his youngest son. Someone would pay for his son’s death. It was murder! Finding his son’s killer(s) would be eminent in the near future. Yet, there was an air of uncertainty at that time.

Chapter One

The Confrontation

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Two weeks later…

February rolled around quickly. Alexandria, Virginia was very cool, but not too bitterly cold, like its northern neighbors, this time of year. The setting was at the local jailhouse, where thefts, murderers, even those convicted of conspiracy against the American government, were imprisoned. In a dark and dingy room, sat a small table centered in the middle of the room. The room was tiny with no windows. The surroundings were one of deterioration, cracks in the ceiling and ripped wallpaper on the walls. Decay showed the age of the building, built decades ago. A guard stood nearby, anticipating any wrong movement made by the prisoner.

Sitting across from each other, two people sat at a small table. One was a gentleman in his late thirties. He was reviewing a thick file set before him. His name was Richard Anderson. Richard had been a defense attorney for fifteen years. He represented many criminals in court, yet, never represented someone convicted of treason. Richard was the product of two immigrants from Ireland, who struggled to speak the native language when they had arrived to America. Realizing the struggles his parents had, Richard was convinced that immigrants needed to be represented to protect their rights. Immigrants were not treated as well as natives. They were assumed outsiders and not loyal to the American cause.

The other person was a young woman, in her mid-twenties. She was listening in the chair, with no expression on her face. She was silent and sat with her hands in her lap. Lisa Marie was trialed a year ago and found guilty of treason and espionage. She had been imprisoned ever since the end of 1776. It took a year to appeal her case.

You have no case, Ms. Chevalier, Richard stated. The file shows your involvement with British forces.

But I tell you that I was coerced, Lisa Marie insisted. They were threatening to harm my family.

This file says otherwise, Richard answered. Besides you were found guilty last year in trial.

That is why I hired you to represent me this time. My lawyer last year didn’t know what he was doing, Lisa Marie responded.

Mr. Jefferson is one our best defense attorneys in town, Richard answered. Besides, you were trialed the year before in 1775 also.

They acquitted me then, Lisa Marie said. Can they bring up the murder trial again?

Not the murder charges, but on treason, that’s a different story, Richard advised. Some people believe that treason is worse than murder.

Please listen to me, Lisa Marie demanded. She was getting a little upset now. I was forced at gunpoint to go with the British forces. They kidnapped me and took me to a secluded area. I never actually spied for the British this time. I only went along with Cornwallis’ plans to protect my mother and children, also to save my own life.

It doesn’t matter. You went along with the enemy and have to pay for the crime, Richard advised.

Please, I came back on my own free will, Lisa Marie insisted. I could have kept running.

Why did you come back, Ms. Chevalier? You knew you would be wanted by the law, Richard said.

Because a friend told me it was the best thing to do, Lisa Marie said. As she said this, a tear rolled down her cheek.

Is this friend a Mr. Charles Dunn? Richard asked.

Why yes, but what does that have to do with it? Lisa Marie asked.

Are you in a personal relationship with Mr. Dunn? Richard asked.

No, not intimately. We are only friends, Lisa Marie answered.

I see, but he cares for you, Richard stated. The officer said he came by the other day to checkup on you.

Charles came to see me, Lisa Marie mumbled to herself. She pondered as to why she wasn’t told this by the guard.

Anyway, Richard cleared his throat. Getting back on the subject, I see no appeal in this case. You have evidence.

What kind of evidence? Lisa Marie asked.

You were seen by Mr. Dunn in Boston before he rescued you, Richard advised. Also, there was your known involvement with British forces in the past. That’s pretty strong evidence.

Just because I was in Boston doesn’t prove a damn thing. I did come back and give myself up, Lisa Marie stated.

Yes, I realize that you turned yourself into authorities. That is what saved you from hanging. You were fortunate to get life instead of the death sentence, Richard advised.

Isn’t there anything you can do? Lisa Marie asked. She was pleading now. Tears ran down both cheeks. Poor Lisa Marie. She was getting exactly what she deserved – to pay for her crimes.

You could take a plea bargain, Richard commented. I will have to talk to the judge beforehand. He is a friend of mine. In the meantime, I will talk to my law partner. He has more experience in this than I do.

I will not take a plea bargain, Lisa Marie stated. I want to be exonerated and my name cleared of treason this time.

This time? Richard asked.

I mean for this trial, if that occurs, Lisa Marie explained. She didn’t want to get too far into detail.

Okay, I will get back with you, Richard said, standing up.

Do you know when? Lisa Marie asked.

It won’t be today or this week. Probably next week at the earliest, Richard advised. I need time to talk to the judge and discuss this with my law partner. Richard took the file with him in his hand, as he exited the room. He would walk back to his law office, a few blocks away. Lisa Marie then stood up and was escorted back to her cell.

Meanwhile, early that afternoon, Beth had gone into her local town of Baltimore. She had her three youngest children with her. Beth helped the children off the coach, while carrying Bonnie.

Stephen turned six early this year (1778). He started public school the first of the year also. Charlie would be turning three this coming summer and Bonnie would be turning one this spring. Timothy, the oldest son, turned twelve in the fall and was attending the military academy at West Point. Timothy was among the youngest admitted to the academy. In four years, he would graduate from the academy as an officer of the U.S. Army. Beth and Charles were very proud of him.

Lawrence, on the other hand, turned ten the end of the year. He kept mostly in his room, just coming out long enough to eat his meals. He had advanced to the sixth grade last fall. Beth was afraid he was going to be antisocial and a nerd. Unlike her, he was not a socialite. He did not like being around people. Lawrence wanted to go back to Boston to attend the private school for advanced students, that he attended last year. But it was Timothy’s time this year.

As they walked into the general store, Sallie stepped out, holding her baby. Danny was born last fall. He was three months old. He would be four months old in mid-February.

Sallie had one older brother, David, who was two years older. He was in the military. He was engaged to get married next fall to a sweet seventeen-year-old girl. Nancy was a local girl of Baltimore, who lived with her parents. They were waiting to marry on Nancy’s eighteenth birthday in early fall.

Hello, Sallie, good to run into you, said Beth.

Oh, hello, Sallie returned the greeting.

How are you doing? Beth asked. Noticing the baby in Sallie’s hands, she said, He is as handsome as your husband.

Sallie looked at Beth, as if she took offense to the remark. Danny is getting to be somewhat of a handful too, Sallie responded. He wants to eat quite a bit, especially at night. He keeps me up at all hours.

They all do that at first, Beth answered. As he gets a little bit older, he will get more on a schedule.

Sounds like you know what you are talking about, Sallie answered.

Honey, I’ve had first-hand experience. I’ve birthed five children, Beth stated.

Both women giggled.

Sallie seeing Bonnie in Beth’s arms, remarked, She is getting so cute!

Thank you, she is crawling really well. I think she will walk by her first birthday in April, Beth responded.

How old is she now? Sallie asked.

What an odd question, she thought. She knew that Sallie knew when Bonnie was born last year. She is going on ten months. She will be one in April, Beth said.

Sallie noticed Charlie hiding behind her mother, with her thumb in her mouth. Stephen stood beside them. What makes her suck her thumb like that? Sallie asked.

She does that when she feels insecure or anxious, Beth answered.

You should stop her from doing that, Sallie insisted. It’s only a bad habit.

I took her to see the doctor, Beth responded. He said she will eventually grow out of it.

Oh, well, I need to be going. I promised Raoul I would have supper early today. Raoul and his father are going to Capitol Hill (modern-day Capitol at Washington D.C.) to listen to a conference tonight. Have you heard the news? Sallie asked.

"What news? Beth asked, curious to know.

There seems to be a coalition going on in Philadelphia and surrounding areas. Loyalists to the British crown are leading a group up north, Sallie remarked.

Really! Beth said, astonished.

News is spreading that they are headed our way soon, Sallie advised.

I haven’t heard that, Beth stated. I better let you get going.

Thanks, Sallie responded, as she walked away. It was strange to Beth how much she was in a hurry to get away. Beth proceeded inside the store with the children.

Richard Anderson set out to talk with the judge later that afternoon. After all, he told Lisa Marie he would try to help her by speaking to the judge. He only had to walk a few blocks from his law office to the courthouse. The judge’s chambers were beside the courtroom. Judge Henry Fleming had been a court judge for over thirty-five years. He was more like a father-figure to Richard. He was married to Nora with two grown children: a daughter and a son. He had four grandchildren. Richard entered the front office, where the secretary greeted him.

Good afternoon, Alice. Is the judge in? Richard asked.

He’s in court right now. You’re welcome to wait, Alice advised.

How long a wait? Richard asked.

Until he is done, probably fairly soon, Alice commented. It is late in the afternoon.

Richard sat patiently in the front office, waiting for the judge to appear. What seemed like forever was only ten minutes. Judge Fleming entered the office. He said hello to his secretary. She pointed to Richard sitting across from her desk.

Hello, Richard, what does the honor? he asked.

Judge, I need to speak with you this afternoon, if you please, Richard said.

Well, if you make it short. You caught me just getting out of court today, the judge commented.

I’m sorry, Judge. I just need a minute of your time, please, Richard insisted.

Richard followed the judge inside his chamber. The judge then took his robe and wig off and hung them up on the coat rack. Well, what is it? the judge asked. He made a motion for Richard to sit down, as he sat in his chair.

I need to ask you something, Richard answered. I have a young lady I am thinking about representing. She wants to appeal her case.

You said thinking about representing, the judge said. Are you not sure?

It would be a difficult case, just looking at her file, Richard responded. What are my odds for appeal?

Before I answer that, who is the client? the judge asked.

Lisa Marie Chevalier, Richard answered. She changed back to her maiden name after she divorced Sir Francis Jarden last year.

You mean the girl accused of treason? the judge asked.

Yes, sir, Richard responded.

I advise not taking the case. She has a track record a mile long. How did you get involved with her anyway? Judge Fleming asked.

I didn’t, Richard said. She contacted my office somehow to come visit her in jail.

Probably because you didn’t know of her very well, the judge stated. Even if you took her case, there is no reassurance she would be re-trialed.

I’ve been following her trials. I knew of her imprisonment, Richard commented. "What are the chances you would re-trial this case?

Nil to Zero, the judge remarked. I’m not re-trialing for someone who I know is guilty of her crimes.

How do you know that? Richard asked.

Because I was the judge sitting in her trial last year and the previous trial, the judge answered. I read her case and reviewed her past history. She is no stranger to the law. You would be a fool to get involved in this.

How do you really know she is guilty? Richard asked.

Is there any other verdict that fits her? the judge asked.

A person is presumed innocent until proven guilty in the court of law, Richard stated. Ms. Chevalier says she was coerced into going along with Cornwallis’ plans.

I don’t care what she says. She was found guilty of treason and espionage, the judge said. Surely, if the jury thought her not guilty, they wouldn’t have given the verdict of guilty, which I think she is.

That’s just it, you think she is, Richard comment. Couldn’t we give her the benefit of a doubt that she may be telling the truth?

Why do you say she is telling the truth? the judge asked.

Something in her voice. There was some truth to it, Richard answered.

Ms. Chevalier is probably manipulating you. She is good at that, the judge advised.

Richard got up from the chair and went over to the window. He pondered a minute. I went into this career because I saw what my parents went through in a strange land. I feel like everyone is entitled to be represented for their rights, Richard said.

For their rights, yes, but Ms. Chevalier is a different story, the judge stated.

She is still entitled to have her voice heard. Ms. Chevalier feels she didn’t get a fair trial last time, Richard said.

She got as fair a trial as anybody else, Judge Fleming answered. I think you should think about this some more.

What is your suggestion? Richard asked.

I wouldn’t take the case, but if you insist, I would have Ms. Chevalier plea bargain. If she pleads guilty, I could reduce her sentence and change her sentence to include eligible for parole, the judge stated.

Reduced how much? Richard asked.

Half her sentence, the judge responded. That is better than anything she would get otherwise. Even if you go to court again, it may turn out worse for her. She may hang next time.

Ms. Chevalier was clear that she didn’t want a plea bargain, Richard answered. Still, I will ask her again for her own sake. Would you please reconsider re-trialing the case?

Just let me think about it and get back with you, the judge stated.

Richard turned around to face the judge. How soon will you let me know? he asked.

By Monday, I will send word. Now, get out of here. I have lots of work to do before I go home. Nora will kill me if I’m late for supper, the judge responded.

I will go and let you do your work, Richard responded. Thanks so much, Judge. Richard shook the judge’s hand and exited his chamber. As he exited the courthouse, he walked toward his law office to discuss the case with his law partner. The two men had started their law office together five years ago. Niles Anders McCoy had been a defense attorney for twenty years. He was from an Irish background as well, but he had a little more law experience than Richard.

Anders, as he liked to be called, was sitting in his office, looking at one of his files when Richard returned from the courthouse. Richard entered his office. Anders, take a look at this file, please, and tell me what you think, he said.

What you got there? Anders said, as he looked up toward Richard.

I have a file that I need for you to briefly look over and tell me if this is an appeal case, Richard commented. I just visited Judge Fleming. He feels I would be crazy to take her case to appeal.

There is nothing brief about law. Do you need it back today? Anders asked.

Yes, please, I will be waiting in my office, Richard answered.

Okay, let me take a look at it and get back with you later this afternoon, Anders responded.

Within an hour, Anders came back to Richard’s office. Well, I read the file over. This young woman has a lot of history with the law. But I tend to agree with the judge. You would be nuts to take this case, Anders commented. Why are you even interested in her case?

I feel she may be telling the truth about being coerced into spying for the British, Richard answered. She is adamant that she was protecting her mother and children’s lives. Her mother has passed since then.

Well, she can say anything. Naturally, she is defending herself, Anders replied. I know you, Richard. It is more than that. She must be a very pretty woman.

She is very beautiful, but what does that have to do with it? Richard asked. Besides, I am a married man.

I am a married man, but still like to look once in a while at a pretty woman, Anders commented.

But this young woman is extremely beautiful in body and face, Richard replied.

Richard, you are smitten with her, Anders said.

Oh, uttered Richard, as he blushed with embarrassment. This comment caught him off guard.

All right, enough said. How did you end up with her file in the first place? Anders asked.

I got a courier message from the jailhouse last week, saying Ms. Chevalier needed to speak to a defense attorney right away. The very next day, I picked up her file at the courthouse’s filing room, Richard said.

I feel her best course of action is a plea bargain. Even if you go to trial, it doesn’t mean you will win this case, Anders advised.

I realize that. The judge seemed to think her sentencing might even be worse, Richard answered.

You mean death by hanging, Anders said. Look, Richard, you are my law partner. We look out for each other. If I had better advice, I would offer it. Want me to talk to Ms. Chevalier?

No, I don’t need for you to hold my hand, Richard stated. I just need another opinion. You have dealt with treason before.

Maybe in a few cases, not many, Anders returned.

This will be my first treason trial, Richard stated. I just feel everyone deserves a fair trial, no matter who they are or what they’re accused of.

Sounds like you have already made up your mind, Anders commented.

Not entirely. I’m waiting on Judge Fleming to get back in contact with me next week. That will be the deciding factor, Richard stated.

As promised, Richard got a courier message from the judge’s office that Monday morning. He walked anxiously over to the courthouse and entered the judge’s chamber. The secretary was waiting for him to enter the front