Ethan and Epsey walked toward home, and when they approached their first field, Ethan said he was going to check the livestock. He walked almost all the way around the periphery of his land, moving slowly past some of his favorite places as he thought about recent events. He tried to strip away some of the self-deluding premises of his life and found this to be very difficult.

Ethan had always been a methodical man, proud of his logical approach to challenging and complex issues, reticent about revealing his inner feelings or the process by which he made decisions. Not even Epsey ever felt that she understood what he was thinking when they faced changing circumstances and had to formulate new ideas. Over their years together she had learned that he would listen to her preferences, but her first indication of what he was thinking was usually when he revealed his final conclusions. There was no way that she could know how careful he was to conceal his uncertainties from others, and how he valued his reputation for self-confidence and calmness during times of crisis. He was innately inclined to limit his ambitions, so that a possible failure would not indicate weakness or inability. He approached challenging tasks in incremental steps, and only after careful assessment of all the eventualities. Ethan was uncomfortable when he felt that his own independence was restricted, and he had a natural aversion to close associations with any other person or group. Although he had little interest in their religious beliefs, he had felt compatible with the neutrality of the Wrightsborough Quakers concerning the increasing conflict between Whigs and Tories. He realized now that he had used his proximity to the Quakers to justify his reluctance to become completely committed to either side, and to be left alone with his farm and his own affairs.

As his thoughts were permitted to roam, they focused increasingly on the words of the British sergeant: “a coward like him, willing to leave this other fellow to save his own hide.” Ethan tried to recall the reasons for abandoning Kindred, and rejected the excuse that his friend had insisted on being left alone. There was no doubt that he had pushed off into the water with a sense of personal relief, falsely convinced that Kindred would stay hidden under the leaves so that both could escape capture. He could have pulled the injured man with him across the stream, with the broken leg immobile and buoyed by the water. He could easily imagine both of them hiding inside the hollow tree until the patrol had examined the shore and departed. They would not have been impeded by the British on their return home.