"No more traveling, Nanette. We will conquer the world, you and I, and rule it together."
Nanette was frightened, but she would not let him see it. Alone now. Alan and I, she thought, were gone from her forever.
It was a brief trip. They stopped, just for a moment, in the year 1779. It was a fairly large settlement here now on Staten Island, and the aero, selecting a safe landing place, came down in a field near it.
A Colonial settlement, they called it; but it was in the hands of the enemy. Sir William Howe had landed in the Narrows two years before, and now held all the island.
It was night again when the aero stopped.
Nanette sat in the control room and attentively listened to the new voices. All English now.
"Wolf Turber, we failed—"
"Yes?" His quiet voice was unruffled. "Did the sloop get in?"
"Last week. I have been here every night since—you come late, tonight of all nights! They're fighting over in the marshes—this traitorous Mercer and his men."