Important Announcement: This chapter has been revised. My OC is now not actually an original character at all, because I looked him up in a New Jersey registry and he was a real person. I wanted to put a real revolutionary war character into this chapter but couldn't something your in Newark.

Chapter 8

'Dear Mother,' Sarah composed the letter to her mother in her head as they walked. 'I am sorry to say that a great deal of Hardship has befallen Us since my last letter. James, Henri and Myself were very nearly attacked and jailed because of' here she paused and contemplated before continuing. 'Circumstances under which We had no Control. There is a Gentlewoman in Boston who may take Us in until the Situation dies down, but We have no Horse and are walking instead. Unfortunately, I have become sick from spending a night wet and cold. I am attempting to keep my head, but We are all very tired.'

Everyone was sore from walking the whole day before, and sleeping sitting up on cobblestones had not helped. Henri complained of hunger and Sarah handed him an apple. The air was so bitingly cold it hurt to breathe. The sun had come up and immediately been hidden behind clouds. All the children would have had trouble keeping awake if it weren't for the cold. Sarah tried to concentrate on her letter, but all she could think about was their journey and what might happen to them on the way.

"Do you know where we are?" Sarah asked, nodding to James. He shrugged and unfurled the Lewis Evans map and brought it close to his eyes. After a few minutes he nodded.

"We're passing through Newark right now." he announced. Newark was not a formally settled area yet but had houses and colonists.

Sarah pointed at two small, blue patches on the intricate map. "How are we going to get from Newark to New York without crossing that?"

"Water." muttered James. "We'll have to get across somehow. Maybe we can swim."

"I can't swim." Henri reminded them.

"Neither can I." said Sarah. She coughed.

"We'll think of something later then. When we come to it." James looked around, then ahead. "New York is a Tory colony." he complained a bit more loudly then he should've, earning him glares from the passersby. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Keep your voice down, James. We hardly need to be arrested again."

Henri stumbled and tripped. James quickly helped him up. "We have to keep moving, Henri! Try to keep up." the uncomfortable night's sleep, little food, and general anxiety made all the children testy.

Suddenly a commotion rose ahead of them. The children exchanged curious glances before going forward a few steps to see better.

A two men scuffled in a doorway, one pushing the other out. A woman stood behind the defender, shouting something. "What's happening?" asked Sarah to James, coughing.

"Something interesting." he replied, sprinting towards it.

"James!" Sarah protested primly, before grabbing Henri's hand and following.

Wide-eyed, the children watched as the better-dressed man stumbled away, shouting obscenities and threats that they didn't listen to. Sarah shoved her hands over Henri's ears and wished she had another pair for herself. Henri wriggled away as the men put distance between themselves, and Sarah grabbed him firmly by the shirtsleeve. She was not going to be losing anyone in an unfamiliar town.

When she looked up to scold James, he was already talking to the man who had been in the fight. Henri ran up to him and she followed.

"Who was that?" James was asking, whipping out his notebook and pencil. The man crossed his arms as the children grouped themselves together. The man was tall, with harsh features, but his face relaxed slightly when he saw he was speaking to children.

"A tax collector from England. They think they can get away with whatever they want. It takes force to send them a message."

James nodded enthusiastically as he wrote, obviously in agreement. "And you just threw him out? Will he be coming back? Who am I quoting?"

The man frowned. "Daniel Holden, and I don't know. He might. And maybe this time he'll bring British soldiers. But none of my money is going to King George, s'blood!"

"Then I take it you're a patriot?" he asked.

"Most definitely! And what about you, young man, and your sister and brother?" he motioned to Sarah and Henri.

"I'm a patriot too, sir. And they're not my brother and sister, but Henri's a patriot too."

"No taxation without representation!" recited Henri passionately, still unaware of the words' meaning. Holden laughed and clapped him on the back.

"And your young lady?" he nodded to Sarah.

"Um, she's not my—" he broke off. "Sarah's a loyalist. How many people have turned away tax collectors in your town?"

"Will she say anything?" Holden asked, nodding to Sarah again. He didn't sound suspicious, however, just cautious, and James knew the answer.

"No."

"A few others. There aren't many of us—certainly less than in other colonies—but enough to tell old George we won't stand for this. Other parts of the colony are in full-out civil earl were's lucky."

In Sarah's house, if anyone from her adored cousin Tom to the lowliest scullery maid ever called His Majesty such a derogatory name, her father would have them removed from the premises. She tried not to look shocked.

"What brings you to Newark? Not too many people pass through, especially a crowd such as yourself." Holden asked.

"We come from Philadelphia." supplied James, for once proud of their escape. "The Redcoats tried to arrest us. We're going to ouch. OUCH!"

Sarah had stepped heavily onto her older-companion's foot and sent him a severe look. "What we mean, sir, is—"

Suddenly Henri tugged on Sarah and James' respective coat sleeves. "Look!"

Two British soldiers were coming up the street. Mr. Holden noticed the children's faces and opened the door wider. "You better come inside."

They needed no second invitation. The door shut behind them and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"We haven't got many Redcoats here but we have our share." said Holden. "What's your quarrel with them—other than being patriots?"

"They didn't like our newspaper." said James. "We're walking to Boston." Holden's eyebrows rose.

"Do you know a way to cross the river?"

They shook their heads.

"Not many boats go down river." he warned. "The port is a quarter-of-an-hour away, and then you'll have to go down the Passaic until it opens into the bay. Then walk alongside the Hudson until you reach New York."

"Thank you, Mr. Holden." James said sincerely. Sarah and Henri echoed this as they looked through the window, seeing the British soldiers safely departed, and prepared to leave. Mr. Holden's voice stopped them.

"I have a boat."

"Here we are." Mr. Holden said, gesturing to the harbor. The boats were all river boats and canoes and most sailors were out on the river already, but a few still stood around talking. Most of the boats bobbed in the water, by the dock far down the street.

Suddenly Henri froze. "I can't go out there." he whispered.

"What are you talking about, Henri?" whispered Sarah, exchanging looks with James.
"'im." said Henri, pointing to one for the sailors. "He was ze first mate on ze ship zhat—he hit me." he finished quietly.

"Oh, Henri, are you sure?" asked Sarah. He nodded miserably. Mr. Holden looked confused as the children did their best to comfort the younger boy.

"Perhaps he won't see us." James said quickly.

Sarah responded just as quickly. "Perhaps he will."

"We'll just walk quickly and keep Henri from being seen." said James. "It's been a few years anyway. He probably won't remember you."

Still confused, Mr. Holden pointed out his boat. Sarah grabbed Henri's hand. "Just keep your head down and don't look up for anything." slowly they began to walk towards the boats. The street seemed ten miles long.

The odd looking group attempted to do nothing to draw attention to themselves, but James couldn't help watching the sailor Henri was worried about from the corner of his eye.

Often when someone is being watched, no matter how discreetly, they will eventually look towards the person watching them, and suddenly James saw the man glance at their group.

Then he glanced at Henri again, harder.

"Don't look now." muttered James, staring straight ahead. Sarah closed her eyes as the man walked over, and suddenly an unfamiliar voice was breaking their silence.

"Who's this?" the man said roughly. Henri started to look up and James elbowed him. He snapped his head back down.

"Who?" said James dumbly.

"Him." he gestured to Henri and Sarah's grip tightened on his hand.

"Him?" she said, a bit too quickly. "He's my brother—Henry. Sir."

The sailor looked disbelievingly between the olive-complexioned, titan-haired boy and the pale redheaded girl. "Your brother?"

Sarah nodded uncertainly.

"Look up, boy."

"Sir, is there something you need?" said Mr. Holden, a bit loudly. The sailor glanced at the large man and turned away.

"I thought he looked familiar." he began walking away, muttering something that sounded like "Henry, indeed."

All three children breathed sighs of relief in unison. Mr. Holden looked at them strangely. "Have you children made enemies of half the colonies?"

"It's starting to seem that way." muttered James.

Positioning themselves so that James and Mr. Holden could row, the children couldn't help but argue quietly as the canoe began to move.

"I never knew there were so many patriots this far North. This'll be on the front page for sure." whispered James excitedly. He, Sarah, and Henri were sitting together on one side of the canoe for warmth. There wasn't much paddling to be done since they were following the current.

"Unless we're captured and put in jail, where you'll never write another word." whispered Sarah without jest. "Henri could've just been caught." she coughed.

"Well, he wasn't, was he? And it turned out for the best." argued James softly, looking away.

As much as he hated to admit it, Sarah was right.

Could he not even do this right?

This journey was just getting more and more dangerous. British soldiers were probably everywhere. They would have to cross water. Now Sarah was sick. And Henri had to be careful of every sailor he met. He wasn't the set leader of the children on this outing; rather he wasn't sure there was a leader. At the same time, there was no one to tell him what to do (Sarah didn't count.) For possibly the first time in his life James devoutly wished there was an adult ordering him around.

Unfortunately simply willing Moses or Dr. Franklin to appear would not do anything. He glanced at his companions, wondering if they felt the same.

Okay, I MapQuested where our favorite patriotic trio are going and they have a walking mode. I add hours onto the walking mode because they have to sleep and they're kids so they'll go slower. Straight walking without any sleep at a constant rate it takes about four and a half days to get to Boston, so I gave them six.

But since they didn't have MapQuest in the 1700s, it falls to me to research if that city even existed at the time. And I have no idea of the terrain, so bear with me.