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the jail, the Sunderland girl seemed always to be walking away from it. We were both of us drawn to that place of despair. I had no doubt that she, like me, wanted nothing more than to get inside. She would have been scandalized to know what I might have done had I been granted access.
    When I walked into the tavern Saturday evening, supper was already being served. Among the soldiers gathered to eat was John Lindley. “Jonesy!” he cried as he spied me. Holding up his bowl, he lurched toward me. “One more drink.”
    “You’ve already had about three more drinks by the look of you.” Which wasn’t a bad thing at all for my accounts.
    “Congratulate me. I’ve been promoted.” He placed an elbow on the bar as I took the bowl from him. “At least that’s what they say. But I say I’ve been gulled. It’s a staff job.”
    Staff job. I saluted him. “It’s the War Office for you now, for certain.”
    “But it’s not in Howe’s office. I’m to sit one floor below.”
    I tried to hide a smile. He’d always been so keen on glory. It gave me the bitterest of pleasure to see him win a promotion to a staff job. No battlefield awards for bravery could be earned by sitting in an office administering the general’s papers. “You’ll use it to your benefit. You’ve always been good at that.”
    He leaned back with an angelic smile. “I am good at that, aren’t I? Know what I did while I was back in England?”
    Probably caught the clap. “I’ve no idea.”
    “I found myself an heiress.”
    I raised a brow as I filled his bowl with brandy. Passed it back.
    “Daughter of Mr. Arthur Spotsworth, merchant prince. She’s plain as a board and pink as a pig, but she’s got ever so much lovely money to make up for it.”
    “Words said at leisure have a way of coming back to bite those who so misuse them.”
    He dismissed my warning with a florid wave, swaying as he tried to keep his feet. “Doesn’t matter.” He took a swig from the bowl. Swallowed. “We’re to marry just as soon as I return.”
    I took the bowl from him and added some more. “Felicitations.”
    “Can you envision me, a married man?”
    “You’ll be as grand as the bride is rich.”
    “Aye. And that’s the point of it all, isn’t it?”
    The point of it all. Perhaps it was—for people like him. I thanked God that I didn’t have to worry about things like marriage and dowries. What girl with any sense would settle upon a crippled man? It seemed God had saved me from worse fates than I had known.

5
Hannah
     
    I was sitting in the Meeting House on the women’s side, facing the presiding and recording clerks. I used to think that I might one day join their number. I used to strain to listen with my inner ear to hear the voice of God. But I did not know anything anymore, at least not with any sort of certainty.
    I could not— must not —speak of the thoughts that daily passed through my mind. That was why I was sitting, lips pressed together, in the middle of the assembly. Even if the Spirit of God himself should move me, I dared not speak. To speak of my thoughts and to advocate for visiting the prisoners might bring disownment.
    No Friend would shun me; my family would not abandon me. It was not those things that I feared. It was not the way of Friends to refuse to acknowledge each other, but it was their way to stand apart from one they considered too worldly. And they would point out to any who wondered that though I came from a Quaker family, though I might be beloved by many Friends, they did not consider me one of their own. And what would I be without my faith? Where could I turn in these perilous days if not to those who believed as I did?
    In the hush of the silence I uncurled the fists on my lap, stretched out my fingers, and then curled them up once more. To my right, Betsy Evans’ eyes were closed, her lips moving in soundless prayer. To my left, old Anne Clifton had fallen asleep again. And from the men’s side came the