Ian watched as the British left, exiting through the alley to Chestnut St. A carriage waited, the driver perched upon the bench seat. Duncan went to it, opened the door, and turned to his men.
“Go back to your stations,” he said. “We’ve nothing more to do here.”
Ian peeked from behind the chimney as Duncan climbed in his carriage and the driver urged the horses forward. The soldiers remained in front of the shop a moment more and then walked away, their figures melting in the darkness. Once Ian was sure they were gone, he crawled down the angled chimney, opened the kitchen window, and eased inside. As he entered the parlor, he saw his father peering outside.
“They’re gone,” Ian said quietly.
Patrick turned, startled. “Where were you?”
“I climbed out the kitchen window and onto the roo
