The Blacksmith's Daughter: a Mystery of the American Revolution
“"Very well, then. I shall turn in for the night." Her jaw also defiant, she scooted to the far side of the bed. "Blow out the candle when you've undressed." He rose, unbuttoned his waistcoat, then patted the inner pocket with a frown. "Almost forgot about this letter." She lay on her side watching him. "The one Ephraim gave you this afternoon? Who's it from?" "Isaac Sheridan, King Street, in Camden, South Carolina." "Sheridan?" Her eyebrows rose. "A relation?" Without answering, he brok...e the seal and brought the paper close to the light. Expression faded from his face when he skimmed the letter. Then he warmed the paper over the flame.
Betsy, seeing his face empty of emotion, realized the letter contained a ciphered message, and she sat up again, her chest tight with omen. He turned the paper to her, where pale blue numbers faded, sandwiched between a spidery scrawl of dark ink: 9 July 1780, Town of Camden My dear nephew John Clark: It has been half a Year since last I heard from you. I hope All is well with you and your new Wife.MoreLess
Betsy, seeing his face empty of emotion, realized the letter contained a ciphered message, and she sat up again, her chest tight with omen. He turned the paper to her, where pale blue numbers faded, sandwiched between a spidery scrawl of dark ink: 9 July 1780, Town of Camden My dear nephew John Clark: It has been half a Year since last I heard from you. I hope All is well with you and your new Wife.MoreLess
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