“There’s a small fortune here,” exclaimed James.

“I believe we shall end this war,” said Master, with quiet satisfaction, “with considerably more land than we had when it began.” Then he turned to Abigail. “You have been buying china and glass, Abby. I have been buying debt. It’s all the same game. The risk was high, so the price was low. And of course, I had the money ready to do it.”

If the merchant felt pleased with himself about these transactions, however, there was something else that pleased him also. It was the day after James and his friend had left that he spoke quietly to Abigail.

“I noticed, Abby, that the Count de Chablis was rather agreeable to you.”

“Was it so plain, Papa? I hope I did not embarrass myself.”

“Not at all. But a father notices these things, you know. And I was very glad, Abby.”

“Why, Papa?”

“It will soon be two years since Albion died,” he said gently. “You have mourned for him, as you should. But it is time, now, for you to begin your life again.”

And she knew that it was true.

As the summer of 1783 turned to autumn, it was clear that the British must soon leave the city. But the British commander was firm. “We’ll leave as soon as every Loyalist who wants to leave has safely departed.”

They were leaving by their thousands. A few were New Yorkers, but most were Loyalists who were coming through New York from elsewhere. Some shipped to England, the majority to maritime Canada. The British government paid their passage.

And then there were the former slaves that the British had freed. They too were departing, though for a different reason—to escape their Patriot owners. Hardly a day went by when Abigail didn’t hear of some Patriot arriving in the city and scouring the streets and waterfront for his former slaves.

“Washington’s quite clear about it,” Master remarked. “He says they’ve every right to reclaim their property, but the British say that’s not fair. Anyway, the poor devils would sooner freeze up in Nova Scotia than be slaves again.”

About one slave, however, there was no news. It had taken some time, but Master had finally been able to discover the fate of his missing French prize. “She’s back in French service, down in the Caribbean. But what happened to Solomon, I can’t discover. He isn’t aboard her now, that’s for certain.” To Hudson he promised: “I am still searching for him. He may well have been sold, but we shouldn’t give up hope.” To Abigail he confessed: “If I find him, I’ll buy him back for Hudson and give him his freedom immediately. But I fear that the chances of finding him are not good.”