"Calm yourself, my boy. He does his billeting only along the coast. The king fears a British revolt so he sends his war, his regimentals and all his expenses to us."

Asked Caleb, "Have the Colonies no recourse?"

"The Whigs present our grievance to Parliament, but the King will ignore Parliament."

"He'd not dare billet regimentals in British homes," Uriah muttered.

"Indeed not, but the rest of us are nothing more than the King's ugly step children."

"Matthew, are they encamped at your home?" Caleb asked.

"I should say not. I happily take advantage of my acquaintance with the Governor."

"And the smuggling?" Caleb asked. "Do the King's men . . ."

"Confounded King," Matthew interrupted. He rubbed his hands together for a moment, and then clasped them behind his back. "He's evoked an old decree not seen in a hundred years. All ships loading wares in any part of the world, must first sail to England, pay the taxes and then sail to the Colonies. He's set his privateers to attacking any ship that disobeys. He has us, you see. He's thought of nearly every angle."

"Nearly?"

"A smuggler has no choice but to turn privateer." Matthew roared with laughter and kept up his laughter until even Uriah smiled. "Tell me, my boys, what are you to do with all this land?