Frederick felt his face burn. Being among people with whom he could share his precious secret was a new experience.
“Y-es, sir,” he stammered. “I—I posted a letter this morning—On my way here.”
He looked toward Tom Stuart, whose eyes were laughing at him. The seaman put in a word.
“Got up and wrote the letter before dawn!”
“Since she is a freewoman,” Mr. Ruggles smiled, “she can no doubt join you immediately.”
“Yes—Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Then you must remain under cover until she comes.”
“He’s safe at my house,” Tom Stuart said quickly, and the secretary nodded.
“That is good,” he said. “And now for the record.”
At this word a slender boy of nine or ten years, who had been sitting quietly at the table, opened a large ledger and picked up a quill pen. He said nothing but turned his intelligent, bright eyes toward Frederick. Mr. Ruggles laid his hand on the boy’s arm.