For hours the harness bells jingled, the old coach squeaked and the hooves of the horses beat rhythmically against the hardened earth. Inside the coach, the men wore ordinary black breeches and jackets, the Ladies had on their most colorful frocks and John busied himself climbing from lap to lap.

"Is it not delightful, Elizabeth?" asked Mary, admiring the scenery through the windows. "It has been so very long since we traveled, I quite forgot how grand our England is."

"Yes it is. We are away; we have the beauty of the land and we are not wearing brown."

"I loath brown," Mary muttered to no one in particular.

"I prefer the blue in my wife's eyes," said Caleb Elizabeth studied her husband's glowing face. "You are uncommonly flattering"

Mary braced herself when the coach slowed and began to turn. "Why do we turn? Are we to leave the road to London?"

"Perhaps we avoid an unstable bridge or a herd of sheep," Caleb answered.

The coach passed between two clumps of trees, pulled around to the back of a cottage and came to a halt. The place looked deserted and Mary had only just leaned forward to look out the window, when the face of a stranger ap­peared. He was a middle aged man dressed in light blue silk and when he opened the door, he nodded to Uriah and then bowed deeply to the ladies. He said nothing as he stretched out his hand to Elizabeth.