"How may I be of service at this late hour, sir?"

A restless shifting behind him. A little man with a face like an underdone pudding cleared his throat.

"You will give Lord Dorchester his rank," he piped.

Elizabeth inclined her head. "Of course. I am too long away. How may I be of service to you, my lord?"

"We will have your menfolk," said Sir Guy. "Tell me where they are."

Elizabeth raised a hand, palm up. "I would ask you the same question, sir. I came to Canada to plead their case, and found instead that they were already fled."

"They are not on board this ship?"

"They are not, sir. I hope that they are well on their way home."

"Then you will consent to a search of these cabins."

Elizabeth inclined her head. "As you wish. My lord."

His gaze the color of claret, sweeping over the stateroom now. Hannah seemed to be invisible to him, but Runs-from-Bears was not.

"You." He waved a hand. "You are Mohawk?"

Bears nodded.

"A white man was found murdered this evening in the Indian camps. A peddler but a subject of the Crown, after all. His throat was cut. Major Johnson will look at your weapons."

Elizabeth felt a flush of cold all along her spine. With every bit of her willpower she controlled her expression. Runs-from-Bears seemed neither worried nor intimidated, but simply slipped his knife from the beaded sheath on his belt and held it out. The governor flicked a finger in that direction and Johnson hurried forward to examine the knife.

"No blood, my lord."

"Ah." Carleton tapped one prominent tooth thoughtfully. "Well, then. I would speak to you privately in my offices. Tomorrow morning, at ten. See that you are not late."

Runs-from-Bears said, "I won't be late. I won't be there at all."

The governor's mouth narrowed to a blade.

Elizabeth said, "He cannot oblige you, my lord, because he is bound to accompany us. We sail tomorrow for home." She willed her tone cool and her anger in check.

His gaze came back to her with a jerk. "Do you, indeed? For England?"

She met him without flinching. "My home is in New-York State." And then, weary of the whole game, she asked him a direct question. "Sir, is it your intention to arrest me?"

Hannah tensed, and Elizabeth squeezed her shoulder gently.

"I had not thought of it," said the governor. "But on the other hand you have not proved especially helpful. I have it on good authority, madam, that the escaped prisoners are indeed in Québec."

"Sir," said Elizabeth. "As you can see, they are not here. But if my word does not satisfy you, perhaps we should send for my cousin, Viscount Durbeyfield. Runs-from-Bears could fetch him in just a few moments' time."

"I think not," said Sir Guy. "The Mohawk will stay on board the Isis. We have no need of your cousin the Viscount, Mrs. Bonner."

The flush of anger was on her; she could feel it and she knew he could see it. "Are your inquiries concluded then, sir?"

The governor shook his head. "We are not even begun, Mrs. Bonner. But I always conduct these ... discussions at the Château St. Louis. You needn't worry for your reputation. It is not the gaol, but my residence. My lady wife is present."

Behind the governor, Captain Pickering blanched visibly, but that was a luxury that Elizabeth could not afford. To show this man panic or even the simplest shred of fear would be to surrender.

Pickering said, "My lord, surely you do not wish to take two infants and a young girl out into such weather, and in the dead of night."

"Of course I do not," said the governor, never looking at the captain. "You know me better, Pickering. I have no need for wailing babies. They will stay here in the care of the Mohawk. I will not keep her long."

Elizabeth let her expression go as soft and blank as she could make it, but her mind scrambled frantically. The man thought to shock her into a confession, hoping that she would fumble and send her men to the gallows in the first flush of fear for her children. He could not keep her long away; Will would see to it.

She squared her shoulders and spoke to Bears in Kahnyen'kehâka.

"I will be back by sunrise. See if you can get word to Will."

Hannah made no sound but a single tear, scalding hot, fell on Elizabeth's hand.

Elizabeth met the governor's hooded eyes. "You will permit me to dress, my lord?"

He inclined his head, all generosity now; he thought she would give in.

In the corner cabin where the babies slept peacefully, Elizabeth took Hannah by the shoulders. "I will deal with them and then I will return. Nothing could keep me away."

Hannah nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I will take good care of the babies until you get back."

Elizabeth ran a hand over the smooth dark head. "I know that you will."

There was a shuffling in the main cabin, men's voices raised and then a run of notes on the spinet. It made her flush with a fine, hot anger. After a moment's hesitation, she went to the twins' carry basket and rummaged under the covers at one end until she came up with the sack of gold coin that Will had returned to them this morning. She would have preferred a musket or a knife, but money was the only weapon available to her.

Québec had disappeared into a fog. Elizabeth could tell nothing of the city except that it was at the top of some cliffs; the coach wound its way up in a corkscrewlike fashion, jolting and shuddering in the winds and the mudholes. Alone in the coach, she kept the heavy leather curtains closed, for she did not like the mounted escort so close by. By the time they had reached the Château St. Louis she had reduced her handkerchief to a shredded mass, but her face was composed.