Read Online The Triumph of Grace by Kay Marshall Strom - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kay Marshall Strom
Tags: Trust on God
Ads: Link
said. "I do not accept bribes."
Sir Thomas smiled as he re-pocketed the gold crowns.
"Very good, sir," he replied. "It seems that you are in a class by yourself."
"No, sir," said Captain Cartwright. "That I most assuredly am not."
"As you are obviously a man of high principles, I am certain you will understand my concern for a prisoner I know to be innocent of all charges leveled against her."
"She may well be innocent," the captain replied. "In that, she would not be alone. And I shall be most pleased to transfer her to the hulks on the Thames, or to another ship, or even to hand her over to you. You need only provide me with the appropriate documents from the Crown."
"And if such documents are not forthcoming?"
"In such a case, sir, in a fortnight the prisoner shall sail to New South Wales on my ship. I shan't waste any more of your time. Good day, sir."
Lord Judge Aaron North, still in his chambers although it was well past the dinner hour, imagined himself riding in great comfort over the roughest of London's cobblestone streets in the fine new carriage he would now be able to afford. He dipped his quill into the ink pot in order to write a note in his own fine hand. In it, he gave explicit instructions to Captain Jonathon Cartwright to release prisoner Grace Winslow forthwith into the custody of Sir Thomas McClellan, who would then be responsible to see that the prisoner paid her debt to the Crown. Carefully Lord Judge North folded the letter and slipped it into a creamy linen envelope. Making use of the candle flame before him, he softened his sealing wax just enough to allow a single large dollop to fall across the flap of the envelope. He pressed his official ring firmly into the melted wax.
When the letter arrived, sealed with the authority of His Lordship the Judge, Captain Cartwright opened it and carefully read the message. Without comment, he instructed his second in command to fetch the prisoner Grace Winslow and to deliver her into Sir Thomas McClellan's care.
"Sir . . . Sir Thomas—" Grace stammered when she saw McClellan standing before her.
"Not now," Sir Thomas cautioned as he rushed her toward his carriage. "We have not a moment to waste on dallying."
When the carriage arrived at the Pattersons' barn, Grace's heart leapt with joy. Although she had only minutes to enjoy her reunion with her abolitionist friends, she gasped in amazement to find that Charlotte and Sir Phillips were among them.
"Quickly now," Ethan Preston insisted. "This is an imperfect plan at best. Our success depends upon swift and precise timing."
"And on th' grace o' God," said Joseph Winslow as he stepped forward from the shadows.
"Father!" Grace gasped.
But already the women were rushing her out to the back where a bucket of water and a piece of soap awaited her. After a good wash down by Rebekah Patterson, Lady Susanna and Lady Charlotte dressed Grace in an oddly cut pair of men's pantaloons. Then they tightly bound her chest with strips of cotton.
"What are you doing?" Grace demanded. "I can hardly breathe!"
"Hush, Grace. We are preparing you for your voyage," said Lady Susanna.
"According to your own plan, since we have no better one," added Lady Charlotte. She slipped a loose-fitting tunic over Grace's head.
Grace had never before seen such a garment. She held out her arms and inspected the strange costume.
"My voyage to where?" Grace asked. "The prison at New South Wales?"
"No!" Lady Charlotte whispered with a smile. "To South Carolina. So you can search for Cabeto!"
Cabeto! No, it could not be! How could such a miracle be possible? And yet, why would Charlotte tell her this if it were not true?
"Come, Heath!" Rebekah Patterson called to her husband.
Using a long red scarf, Heath Patterson secured Grace's hair in a neatly wound red turban.
"It's called a rumal," Heath told Grace. "I brought it back with me from India when I sailed for the East India Company."
When the women brought Grace back into the
Sir Thomas smiled as he re-pocketed the gold crowns.
"Very good, sir," he replied. "It seems that you are in a class by yourself."
"No, sir," said Captain Cartwright. "That I most assuredly am not."
"As you are obviously a man of high principles, I am certain you will understand my concern for a prisoner I know to be innocent of all charges leveled against her."
"She may well be innocent," the captain replied. "In that, she would not be alone. And I shall be most pleased to transfer her to the hulks on the Thames, or to another ship, or even to hand her over to you. You need only provide me with the appropriate documents from the Crown."
"And if such documents are not forthcoming?"
"In such a case, sir, in a fortnight the prisoner shall sail to New South Wales on my ship. I shan't waste any more of your time. Good day, sir."
Lord Judge Aaron North, still in his chambers although it was well past the dinner hour, imagined himself riding in great comfort over the roughest of London's cobblestone streets in the fine new carriage he would now be able to afford. He dipped his quill into the ink pot in order to write a note in his own fine hand. In it, he gave explicit instructions to Captain Jonathon Cartwright to release prisoner Grace Winslow forthwith into the custody of Sir Thomas McClellan, who would then be responsible to see that the prisoner paid her debt to the Crown. Carefully Lord Judge North folded the letter and slipped it into a creamy linen envelope. Making use of the candle flame before him, he softened his sealing wax just enough to allow a single large dollop to fall across the flap of the envelope. He pressed his official ring firmly into the melted wax.
When the letter arrived, sealed with the authority of His Lordship the Judge, Captain Cartwright opened it and carefully read the message. Without comment, he instructed his second in command to fetch the prisoner Grace Winslow and to deliver her into Sir Thomas McClellan's care.
"Sir . . . Sir Thomas—" Grace stammered when she saw McClellan standing before her.
"Not now," Sir Thomas cautioned as he rushed her toward his carriage. "We have not a moment to waste on dallying."
When the carriage arrived at the Pattersons' barn, Grace's heart leapt with joy. Although she had only minutes to enjoy her reunion with her abolitionist friends, she gasped in amazement to find that Charlotte and Sir Phillips were among them.
"Quickly now," Ethan Preston insisted. "This is an imperfect plan at best. Our success depends upon swift and precise timing."
"And on th' grace o' God," said Joseph Winslow as he stepped forward from the shadows.
"Father!" Grace gasped.
But already the women were rushing her out to the back where a bucket of water and a piece of soap awaited her. After a good wash down by Rebekah Patterson, Lady Susanna and Lady Charlotte dressed Grace in an oddly cut pair of men's pantaloons. Then they tightly bound her chest with strips of cotton.
"What are you doing?" Grace demanded. "I can hardly breathe!"
"Hush, Grace. We are preparing you for your voyage," said Lady Susanna.
"According to your own plan, since we have no better one," added Lady Charlotte. She slipped a loose-fitting tunic over Grace's head.
Grace had never before seen such a garment. She held out her arms and inspected the strange costume.
"My voyage to where?" Grace asked. "The prison at New South Wales?"
"No!" Lady Charlotte whispered with a smile. "To South Carolina. So you can search for Cabeto!"
Cabeto! No, it could not be! How could such a miracle be possible? And yet, why would Charlotte tell her this if it were not true?
"Come, Heath!" Rebekah Patterson called to her husband.
Using a long red scarf, Heath Patterson secured Grace's hair in a neatly wound red turban.
"It's called a rumal," Heath told Grace. "I brought it back with me from India when I sailed for the East India Company."
When the women brought Grace back into the
Similar Books
