“Perchance some one pursued you?” he ventured.
“No one but myself,” I said.
With that he questioned no more, though he looked curiously at me, but led the way into the house, where his wife was preparing breakfast. I managed to make a hearty meal, and then I saw that Kit had her grain, after which I rubbed her down. When I would have paid for the fodder and my victuals the farmer would have none of my money, but bade me go on in good luck, for which I thanked him.
I was soon on the road again. It was better going now, though the roads were still heavy from the rain. Before another hour had passed I found myself in Boston town.
People turned to stare at me, as I clattered through the streets, wondering, I suppose, why I was abroad in such a rig so early. I headed for a modest tavern I knew of. There, I thought, I would make some plan for my future conduct. For I had set my mind upon leaving New England. I had been through enough there, for one time.
I soon found the place I sought, and went in. The landlord knew me, and gave me a little room by myself, the while he brought some good ale. I drank a bit, feeling much refreshed, and then turned my mind to what I had better do. I had heard of the Virginia colony, and that it was a place where there was much of life and entertainment. There I might follow my soldier trade with honor, fearing no witch trial, nor the warrant held by Sir George.
In Virginia I could forget, and leave behind, many bitter memories--and many sweet ones.
There I could forget Lucille.
Forget her?
No!