At last, Matthew eased himself into a chair and sipped his wine. He allowed it to linger in his mouth for a long moment before he swallowed. "It is never ending. To avenge high taxes, Colonists smuggle. To avenge the smuggling, the King pays informers. The informers who are caught are unmercifully beaten, or worse tarred and feathered. And now we've the bloody posters. Names of those suspected of informing or buying British goods are posted all over Boston."

Elizabeth pulled a clean night dress out of a drawer and handed it to Caroline, "But surely Matthew's name is not on the posters?"

"It must be," said Caroline. "Why else would they come for us? New posters are put up every day and no one is given the opportunity of denying the charges. The Stevedores fear unloading the ships, the merchants fear selling and the people fear both the British and the Sons of Liberty. It is complete madness. All manner of people have fled Boston. The Inns along the way were filled to the brim, so we thought we might as well come here. "

Alfred took another sip of his drink, "The King's landed six garrisons in only two weeks, and all looking to be billeted in our homes, no doubt. Hear this if you dare. Word spread that a particular gentleman was an informer. Young boys spotted the man, began throwing rubbish at him and followed him to his residence. At first, the man only retaliated by hurling the rubbish back. But fearing for his family, he . . ."