Free Little Lion by Ann Hood Page B

and the reverend exchanged a confused look.
    â€œThe Loyalists aren’t causing trouble for the Colonists?” Reverend Knox asked.
    â€œWell . . . ,” Felix said, thinking hard.
    Of course! The Revolutionary War hadn’t even begun yet. No Boston Tea Party. No Shot Heard Round the World.
    â€œOf course there are some very unhappy people,” Felix added.
    Maisie looked at him, confused.
    â€œUnhappy with the king,” he added.
    â€œYes, we’ve heard,” Reverend Knox said. He turned to Alexander. “Shall we go to my office?”
    â€œYes,” Alexander said. “My heavens, yes!”
    The two men put their arms around each other’s shoulders and started to walk off.
    â€œCome on,” Maisie said to Felix.
    â€œCome on where?”
    â€œWherever they’re going,” she said.
    Maisie and Felix crouched outside under the open window of Reverend Knox’s office, a room off his peach-colored house. The office was full of men who smoked cigars and drank and talked excitedly to one another in booming voices.
    Finally one of them called for silence.
    â€œWe are here to deliver our good news to young Mr. Hamilton,” someone said.
    â€œHere, here!” the others shouted, clinking their spoons against their glasses.
    Then the crowd grew quiet.
    â€œAlexander,” a man said in a somber tone.
    Maisie recognized Alexander’s voice as he answered, “Mr. Kortwright.”
    â€œYour employer and my associate, the esteemed Nicholas Cruger, and I have come to an agreement this afternoon after reading your letter in the
Gazette
.”
    Mr. Kortwright paused for what seemed to be forever. Maisie found herself holding her breath as she waited for him to speak again.
    Finally he said, “We’ve gathered the men you see here today, men who have witnessed firsthand your good business sense and keen intelligence in the absence of Mr. Cruger during his illness this past year, men who have read your literary writings, men who, as the merchants and leaders of this fine island, believe in you, young Mr. Hamilton. Men who believe that you should have the opportunity to pursue your studies in New York.”
    Maisie gasped. “He’s going to New York,” she whispered. “He is the one we’re supposed to meet and give the coin to.”
    â€œI think you’re right,” Felix whispered back.
    Again, Mr. Kortwright had paused dramatically.
    â€œTherefore,” he continued at last, “Nicholas Cruger has agreed to consign four annual cargoes of Saint Croix produce to be sold toward your support and education.”
    Reverend Knox spoke then. “Alexander,” he said, his voice softer than Mr. Kortwright’s, “we have secured contributions from all of the men you see here in this room. The four hundred pounds of pledges will cover four years of tuition and board as well as your transportation to the mainland. Letters of recommendation have been written to our close friends and associates, who we trust will welcome you into their homes and guide you.”
    â€œMy gratitude—” Alexander began, but he was immediately hushed.
    â€œYour potential, my dear boy,” Reverend Knox said, “is limitless.”
    â€œI suspect you will soon be with my son Neddy,” a new voice said, “taking premedical studies.”
    â€œThen on to Edinburgh,” Reverend Knox added.
    Alexander laughed. “Let me first get into a college, Reverend.”
    â€œThere is only one obstacle,” Nicholas Cruger said seriously. “The American school year has already started, and there is only one more safe sailing there before winter arrives.”
    â€œWhy is this a problem?” Alexander asked.
    â€œThe ship sails tonight,” Cruger said. “It leaves in a matter of hours.”
    Maisie grabbed Felix’s hand and held on tight.
    â€œWell then,” Alexander said. “I need to