"I think that with yer brother's direction, a man like Judge Middleton is mair dangerous than Moses Southern. Southern may fool with yer traps and burn yer crops, but yer fait her weapon is the kind that Nathaniel canna stan up tae.

"The law," said Elizabeth.

"Aye," agreed Robbie. "The law."

* * *

Hawkeye and Nathaniel both insisted on coming along, and so they set out immediately, in spite of a light rain. Elizabeth realized that her dislike of bad weather had been worn away as cleanly as her regard for many of aunt Merriweather's social niceties. But still, she did not want to appear before the judge with straggling hair and so she wore her summer cape with the hood pulled down low, and gave up her moccasins for her old nankeen walking boots, solid and thick and suddenly much heavier than she remembered.

"The man won't thank you for getting' him out of his bed," Hawkeye observed, squinting up at the storm clouds.

"No, but at least we can be sure to find him in."

Nathaniel grimaced slightly. "I'm not of a mind to go running after the man, Boots. When he wants to talk to us, he knows where we are."

With Robbie's concerns so vividly in her memory, Elizabeth said nothing. She hoped that Robbie was wrong about her father and his intentions. But more than that, she hoped that he had been wrong about Nathaniel's unwillingness to see the dangers her father represented.

When they reached the river and passed over the small bridge, Hawkeye paused to look out over the water. "Ducks coming along," he said with a small frown. "Another week or so, the fledglings will be 'bout ready to fly."

"And should they not?" Elizabeth asked, made curious by his dire tone.

"Billy Kirby will be out here, egging on half the village," replied Nathaniel.

At any other time, Elizabeth would have been intrigued enough by this strange answer to ask more questions, but as they approached her schoolhouse she found herself jumpy and at odds. On her first visit here in the last week the sight of the cornfield in rubble and ashes had made very clear the animosity they faced.

As they approached the building she relaxed. The new wood, hardly weathered in the few months, shone butter—yellow in the misting rain. Curiosity's muslin curtains hung at all the windows, and there was no sign of mischief since she had been here two days ago with Hannah to bring more books and sweep. Automatically she felt for the reassuring shape of the key, which she kept always in her pocket. On Monday she would hold school again, although she knew she could count with assurance on only five students: Hannah, Anna Hauptmann's two, and the McGarritys' boys.

Jed and Nancy McGarrity had come up to Lake in the Clouds to tell her so, carrying a bushel of plums between them which they put down on the porch. Jed took off his battered cap and squinted sideways at her, his long, homely face set in a frown. There were flecks of red on his cheeks above his beard. "My Nancy's pa didn't take to me, either, when we got married," he said. "And we done well enough, never caused nobody harm." He nudged his wife, who had not looked up from her own dusty bare feet.

"We'd be pleased if you'd take the plums in payment for the summer's schooling for our boys," she said so softly that Elizabeth had trouble hearing.

"Ian and Rudy are welcome in my classroom," Elizabeth had answered with all the dignity she could muster. She knew that these two, in their best dress and scrubbed to a shiny pink to pay this visit, would not understand her urge to hug them both in gratitude. "And thank you kindly for the plums. I am sure we will be glad of them in the winter."

Now Elizabeth anticipated the first day of school with less trepidation, knowing she would have students, even if they were few.

They came around the corner and she felt Nathaniel jerk in surprise, pulling her out of her daydreaming. Over his shoulder she saw that some papers had been nailed to the door. Protected as they were under the eaves they had remained almost dry, but they flapped weakly in the wind.

Nathaniel put a hand on her arm, but she shook him off with a frown, and went up the three steps to the door. She tore the newsprint down with a jerk, leaving the nail behind. Turning slowly to Hawkeye and Nathaniel, she finally raised her head.

"Well?" said Hawkeye finally.

She cleared her throat twice. "From an Albany paper, dated yesterday. And she read out loud:

REWARD

Today Secretary of the State Treasury Morris opens an inquiry into the matter of funds stolen more than Thirty years ago. In the aftermath of the siege of Fort William Henry and the subsequent Savage Massacre of the retreating British and Militia troops by French forces and their Godless Indian allies, a cask of gold coins was stolen from the Fort for transport to Montreal, but never reached its destination.

The Government of this State has claimed the fortune of some Five Thousand Guineas as payment and restitution for expenses and losses suffered by the Citizens of New—York in fighting France for George II.

Long believed Irretrievably Lost in the heart of the Wilderness, a reliable Source has reported a sighting of the unusual five—guinea gold pieces in recent circulation. Any report of these coins should be brought immediately to Secretary Morris at his offices in Albany. A Reward will be made to Persons contributing to the safe return of the monies to the State Treasury.

"Well, goddamn the judge for an old fox." There was something of admiration in Hawkeye's voice.

"What's the other one?" Nathaniel asked.