But Elizabeth was reluctant.

"He is a friend," Uriah said.

"I see." Elizabeth put her hand in the stranger's, found the small stair with her foot and stepped down. Then she walked away from the coach and looked around. Suddenly, she caught her breath and hurried back to her sister. But Mary had already seen the King's coach and was standing perfectly still with her arms tightly wrapped around her waist. Her eyes were glued to the ground. Quickly, Elizabeth put an arm around her sister.

Uriah handed John to Caleb, climbed out of the coach and returned the stranger's bow, "It is good to see you, my friend."

"And you. How has your . . ." the stranger began.

Elizabeth barged in, "Is the King within?" she asked, staring beyond Uriah at the sleek black carriage of King George III. The lavish gold trim glistened in the sunlight and the black harnesses of the eight, perfectly matched white horses were dotted with small golden bells. A majestic golden torch holder was mounted on each corner of the carriage and the open door revealed scarlet upholstered seats with folds of matching silk on the walls. Two coachmen, clad in white, held the horses reins tight and looked straight ahead.

Uriah chuckled, "Of course not. The King would never be without a guard for his protection."

Elizabeth half smiled, turned Mary away and guided her toward a nearby hill. When they were out of hearing, she leaned closer. "The king's carriage frightens you, but why, Mary?"