“I’m not.” She put her arm back into Starbuck’s elbow and walked on. “Maybe you should ride up to find Truslow, Mister Starbuck?”

“Me?” Starbuck asked in horror.

A sudden animation came into Anna’s voice. “Think of it as a quest. All my father’s young knights must ride into the mountains and dare to challenge the monster, and whoever brings him back will prove himself the best, the noblest and the most gallant knight of all. What do you think of that idea, Mister Starbuck? Would you like to ride on a quest?”

“I think it sounds terrifying.”

“Father would appreciate it if you went, I’m sure,” Anna said, but when Starbuck made no reply she just sighed and pulled him toward the side of the house. “I want to show you my three dogs. You’re to say that they’re the prettiest pets in all the world, and after that we shall fetch the painting basket and we’ll go to the river and you can hang that shabby hat on the willows. Except we don’t have willows, at least I don’t think we have. I’m not good at trees.”

But there was to be no meeting with the three dogs, nor any painting expedition, for the front door of Seven Springs suddenly opened and Colonel Faulconer stepped into the sunlight.

Anna gasped with admiration. Her father was dressed in one of his new uniforms and looked simply grand. He looked, indeed, as though he had been born to wear this uniform and to lead free men across green fields to victory. His gray frock coat was thickly brocaded with gilt and yellow lace that had been folded and woven to make a broad hem to the coat’s edges, while the sleeves were richly embroidered with intricately looped braid that climbed from the broad cuffs to above the elbows. A pair of yellow kidskin gloves was tucked into his shiny black belt, beneath which a tasseled red silk sash shimmered. His top boots gleamed, his saber’s scabbard was polished to mirror brightness and the yellow plume on his cocked hat stirred in the small warm wind. Washington Faulconer was quite plainly delighted with himself as he moved to watch his reflection in one of the tall windows. “Well, Anna?” he asked.

“It’s wonderful, Father!” Anna said with as much animation as Starbuck suspected her capable. Two black servants had come from the house and nodded their agreement.

“I expected the uniforms yesterday, Nate.” Faulconer half-asked and half-accused Starbuck with the statement.

“Shaffer’s was a day late, sir”—the lie came smoothly—“but they were most apologetic.”