the last sound of her husband's footsteps, turned at Mehitable's cry.
"Poor Hitty!" She came over to smooth the girl's hair with tender, motherly fingers. "Why, my dear, did ye not know 'twas but a swoon?"
"Nay!"
"The rough voices frightened her, weak as she was. Come, she must be gotten to bed!" Stooping, Mistress Condit gathered the emaciated little form into her arms. She sighed heavily. "Duties must go on!"
"Cannot Hitty and I care for Cherry?" asked Miranda, coming forward.
"Nay, Miranda, though I thank ye," answered Mistress Condit gratefully. She disappeared up the stairs.
"But where is Mistress Nancy?" asked Mehitable.
"Nay, I know not!" answered the other in surprise, looking around.
"Randy, think you she could be a Tory spy? Could she have been the one to have given warning to the Tories, think you? After all, we know naught o' her save she be Lieutenant Freeman's cousin!"
"Nay, Hitty!" Miranda shook her head. "As well think me spy!"
Mehitable looked at her friend gravely. "Miranda, ye have forever proven your loyalty to America, methinks!"
There was a little silence in the kitchen, then Mehitable moved toward the door, pulling her hood once more over her curls.
"Where art going, Hitty?" asked Miranda, quickly.
