Chains Read Online Free Page B

careful with that,” she said to two deckhands carrying a fine walnut chest. “That goes on the back of the carriage, not to the warehouse.”
    The men nodded and carried the chest toward the beautiful carriage with the golden horses at the end of the dock.
    â€œPretty horses,” Ruth said.
    A soldier at the end of the dock picked up his musket and stopped the two men carrying the walnut chest. There was a brief argument, then the sailors returned, still carrying their burden.
    â€œWhat is this?” Madam asked as they set the chest at her feet. “I told you to put that on the carriage.”
    â€œBeggin’ your pardon, ma’am,” the sailor said, “but them fellas say all cargo has to be inspected at the wharf before it enters the city. Order of some committee what’s in charge here.”
    â€œInspected?” She lifted her chin. “Those are my personal belongings. They will not be inspected by anyone. I do not permit it.”
    Master Lockton had been half following the turn of events while supervising the unloading. As his wife’s voice rose, he hurried to join her.
    â€œNow dear,” he said. “I told you there would be some inconveniences. We must be accommodating. Look, there’s Charles. He’ll straighten this out.”
    A second wagon had pulled up next to the first. A round, short man rolled off it and bustled up to the Locktons.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” demanded the round man. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
    â€œLower your voice, Charles,” Lockton said. “Where are the men I instructed you to bring?”
    The round man pulled a handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and wiped his face. “Washington’s men took them all to work on the blasted fortifications. Oh, double-blast. Look there: Bellingham.”
    An official-looking man in a somber black coat had stepped out of a building across the street and was striding toward our little group, walking stick in hand. He was followed by a thin fellow carrying a book near as big as Ruth. Behind him walked a slave boy about my height, whose arms were weighted down with a wooden contraption and a small case with a rope handle. The boy wore a floppy red hat, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the blue breeches of a sailor, and a pair of dusty boots.
    â€œBellingham is eager to arrest you,” Charles quietly told Master Lockton. “I told you it was still unsafe. You should have waited.”
    â€œAnne.” Lockton fixed his eyes intently on his wife. “Do not fail me.”
    She gave a little nod.
    â€œYou have a plan?” Charles asked.
    â€œEverything is in order,” Lockton said.
    â€œElihu Lockton!” Bellingham called, waving his walking stick. “Come join us, friend.” Three more soldiers appeared and lined up a few paces behind him.
    â€œSmile, everyone,” Lockton commanded through clenched teeth. “Pretend to be happy rebels.”
    The Locktons and Charles walked to the land end of the dock. Ruth and me followed a few steps behind, little mice trailing behind dogs that were fixing to fight.
    The boy in the red hat set down the case and fiddledwith the strange wooden thing. It was actually two strange wooden things: a folding desk and a small stool. After he set up both of them, the thin fellow laid the book on the desk, opened it to a blank page, and perched on the rickety stool. The boy opened the case and took out a bottle of ink and a quill, which he set next to the book. He closed and latched the case, then stepped back and put his hands behind his back, eyes ahead like he was a soldier too.
    â€œGood day, Charles.” Bellingham inclined his head toward Madam. “Missus Lockton.”
    Ruth started to raise her hand to wave at the man, but I grabbed it and held it down.
    â€œMister Bellingham,” Madam replied. “How fares your good wife?”
    â€œHappy that summer is