“No doubt,” Vanessa murmured.

“He means well,” James said. And for no particular reason, except no doubt it had been pent up for so long, this triggered Vanessa’s outburst.

“Franklin is a damned colonial. A dirty little traitor, masquerading as a gentleman.”

“I think that’s a little unfair.”

“He came to London. He promised to make himself useful. We treated him like an Englishman. We even sent his bastard son out to govern New Jersey. There’s only one thing for the upstart to do, if he is a gentleman. Keep his mouth shut unless he’s told to open it. As far as I’m concerned, he and all the other colonial traitors should be taken out into a field and shot. That would reduce the colonies to order.”

“Well, now we know what you think.”

“I know nobody who thinks otherwise, you accursed colonial,” she cried. “Be grateful that you have a son who is born in a civilized country. I pray to God he may never set foot in your damned colony.”

James called to the coachman, who must surely have heard most of this, to stop the carriage. He stepped out. Vanessa said not a word.

As he walked home, James felt neither sorrow, nor even anger, but disgust. When he reached the house, he went quietly to his bureau, and took out the last letter from his father. As he read over its urgent plea that he should come to see his mother, he was overcome with shame. If not with his family, he resolved to take ship as soon as possible. Then he retired to his dressing room, where he slept alone.

He rose late, and breakfasted by himself. He was about to leave for Albion’s office when the butler gave him a letter. It was written in Vanessa’s bold hand. It announced that she had left, early that morning, that she was going to the Continent, and that she could not say when she would return.

It was just before Christmas that James went to see Ben Franklin. To his surprise, when he told the old man his decision, Franklin did not try to dissuade him.

“The fact is,” Franklin confessed, “I have come to the same conclusion. I have been knocking upon every door I know in London. Some still open to me, and those that do, all tell me the same story. The British government will not budge. I always believed that compromise was possible. Now, I no longer believe it.” He smiled. “Your young lawyer friend was right, it seems. I expect to be following you shortly.”

“I had not realized how much we colonials are despised.”

“The British are angry. When people are angry, any insult will do; and prejudice is magnified into a cause.”

“I had not understood British arrogance, either.”

“All empires become arrogant. It is their nature.”

James parted from the old man with warm expressions of goodwill. It only remained to prepare for his journey, and, since his mother was gone, to take little Weston with him. This at least was a blessing: Weston would see his grandparents after all.