“That she did, till she was betrayed. Some weeks ago, a man by the name of Higday was captured by the British on suspicion of spying. Higday’s wife knew too much for her own good. She gave Eliza up to lessen her husband’s sentence. The bloody-backs came pounding on Eliza’s door, but she escaped and went into hiding. We’ve been trying to get her out of New York ever since.”

“Will you be able to?”

Beckett looked toward New York. “Ought to be done by now.”

Malcolm stirred beside me. “She left? She and her children?”

“She alone,” said Austin. “Eliza launched right after we did, about a half mile north of the ropewalk.” He lifted a pistol. “We were to sound the alert if we saw any patrols. Her children are in less danger. We’ll get them out when we can.”

“Who’ll care for them until then?” I asked.

The two men shared an uncertain look. “We’re still working that out.”

“Here.” I dug the Spanish dollars from my purse and pushed them at Beckett. “Take this. To buy food for them or hire a nursemaid—whatever they need, see they have it.”

Beckett stared at the coins in his hand. “This is too much.”

“No—it’s not enough. I want to do more.” This was my chance. I’d helped the cause of liberty how I’d been able, but I wanted to do more than deliver medicines to American prisoners. I needed to. I couldn’t let this pass me by.

Austin’s mouth tugged up. “Eliza thought you might say that. She said if you did, we were to tell you that only you know how you can help, and when you’re ready, you’re to see your friend.”

I shook my head, absorbing his words. Elizabeth Burgin had known what I wanted from the beginning. This entire outing had been a test of my daring and commitment, I realized. I’d proved myself tonight. “She said to see my friend? What friend?” Even now, she was a frustrating puzzle. Then I remembered her harsh words earlier—A friend? I hardly believe you—and it came to me. The eyeglasses. The sweet, full smile that greeted me every Wednesday from behind the store counter.

Robert Townsend.

Of course he was involved. He’d given Mrs. Burgin shelter.

A strange mix of excitement and shock moved through me. I’d known Townsend since I arrived in New York three years ago. Now I realized I hadn’t known the real man at all. He was part of this world. He was much more than the mild, bookish storekeeper he appeared to be.

“Beckett.” Austin suddenly whirled and raised his pistol.

I spun, searching the woods behind us. Through a shroud of branches and leaves, I saw the glint of weapons.

“You there!” shouted a voice. “Announce yourselves!”

“Loyalist militia,” Austin said. “Go!”