“It was an old ancestor of mine, sir, who went down to the docks in Plymouth and thought to sail with the folk who came here to found your own Plymouth Colony. He thought he would come with them and be an American, but he changed his mind and went back to Barnstaple, and the family’s been there ever since. That was the mistake he made. If it hadn’t been for him--I might ha’ been fighting on your side in this war.” Colonel Stark gazed sharply at the young man and saw what Kitty hoped he would see: that for all the pretentious manner, the words were true. Then he turned away for a moment and stared through the window where the moonlight was turning white flowered stalks to silver in the garden. “My folks didn’t make that mistake,” he said abruptly. “They come here on a ship, like all the rest of us, except those who be Injun bred. Come out o’ Scotland, my folks. Had five young ones die on the voyage, and raised another five to replace ’em. Yes, your ancestor made a mistake, lad. But how do you think to right it? Peace time, you could come here like other Englishmen always did, and settle down and be one of us. But not now, now that we be at war.” “Couldn’t I, Colonel? That was what I was hoping for. It’s not that I’m afraid of fighting. But I don’t want to fight against you. And I can’t fight against my own.” “And what would you do, Private Malory, if I said, ‘Go to! Clear out of my camp and make your way as best you can?’” Gerry’s face lit up, and there was no play-acting about him this time. “Why, I’d thought about that, Colonel. Do you know what I’d do? I sailed from Plymouth myself, for my regiment took ship there, so for old times’ sake, I’d take the highroad and go down to your Plymouth in Massachusetts, and see if I could make my way there and settle in, and become a Plymouth man.” “We got a Plymouth in New Hampshire,” said Stark thoughtfully. “I don’t know whether all the land be taken there or no.” Then the lines in his face hardened. “I got the power tonight to send you on your way,” he said. “Tomorrow, I may be plain Johnny Stark, headed back to the sawmill again. We got a new commander coming up from the South to take over the whole army. Name o’ Washington. A Virginia man. Can’t tell what he’ll do.” On that July night the name of Washington meant nothing to Kitty Greenleaf and Gerald Malory. “Then let me go, Colonel Stark. Let me go tonight,” Gerry pleaded. The colonel looked down at the rich woven rug on the floor. His eyes seemed to be tracing the scrollwork pattern. Then he turned to Gerry again. “There’s only one thing still bothers me, Private Malory,” he said. “I believe you when you say you’d like to be an American, and settle down in America and make your way there, and do no harm to anyone. I commend you for it. But how do you feel toward your own people? Don’t you believe in Parliament and the King?”