Free The Flight of Sarah Battle by Alix Nathan

can engrave and etch perfectly and I use stipple and aquatint, both of which are desired by those who buy prints nowadays.’ He looks up at the walls of the room with their archaic, carved panels and wainscoting, so valued by rioters seeking flammable material. There are no prints: they won’t know what he’s talking about. ‘In five years I shall be the most well-known engraver in London.’
    Mr Dale turns away from this distasteful boasting.
    â€˜And, for a while at least, Lucy will learn the art of hand-colouring so that together we can create finished prints.’ Now it is Mrs Dale who turns away at the thought of this man and her daughter together.
    â€˜Of course, were I able to buy my own printing press then we should be dependent upon no one. We could be successful much sooner. At present I must use Mr Digham’s press, you see. Even a small settlement could help me achieve the goal of purchasing my own.’
    â€˜Mr Dale?’ says his wife, feeling a bubble of generosity begin to rise through habitual self-pity. Mr Dale ignores her query.
    â€˜Mrs Dale and I agree to your marrying our daughter Lucy as long as you do so as soon as possible. A pity Marylebone Old Church is no more. There you could have done it immediately. We shall not attend the ceremony of course.’
    â€˜Though I shouldn’t presume to speak for Lucy, yet I am sure she, too, would prefer that you didn’t attend,’ Joseph says with disgust at parental heartlessness. It is a mistake.
    â€˜You will be good enough to inform us when it is done, Mr Young.’ He pulls on a bell-cord. ‘Bessy will show you out. Good day.’
    *

    St George’s Court
    Albion Place
    Britton Street
    14 th November 1795
    My dearest Matthew,
    I wish I could know that you are well. I wish I could know that you will even receive this letter, but since I shall take it myself and try to persuade the porter to give it to you I am hopeful.
    You will see from the address that I am no longer at home. I ran away when they took you back to the school and shall certainly never return so long as you are not there.
    In any case I have found a friend who rescued me when I was fainting in the street – I had collapsed in a doorway. We are to be married! He has asked permission of Papa and Mama, which they have granted, though they want nothing to do with us. His name is Joseph Young and he is an engraver, so skilful and clever that I know he will become famous. And I have begun to learn how to be a limner, to colour his prints with watercolour paint so that we can sell them.
    I know you will like him. He thinks you are terribly brave. He belongs to the Corresponding Society but is not such a revolutionary as you.
    Oh Matthew, I hope and pray that they are not beating you any longer! Please write to me and tell me how you are.
    Your ever loving,
    Lucy
    *
    Joseph accompanies her to the school as she finds it hard to remember his directions, so anxious is she about her letter.
    It takes an hour, avoiding the main roads blocked with carriages and carts, cutting through filthy, unpaved backstreets.
    â€˜Joe!’ In Cross Street two men hail him through smog. ‘’Ow are you? Is it Joe, or is it a phantom?’
    â€˜Where you bin?’ says the other. ‘Wood’s ain’t the same wivout you. Not seen you in fourteen days.’
    â€˜Fourteen nights!’ the first man says and punches him on the arm in mock fight. They look Lucy up and down. She’s standing aside, shy, preoccupied, unused to working men on friendly terms. She feels their gaze all over her.
    â€˜Oo’s the pretty wench, Joe? Friend o’ yours? Sister, mebbe?’
    â€˜This is Lucy, Lucy Dale. Yes, she’s a friend.’
    He says nothing about marriage.
    â€˜Glad to meet you Miss Dale. ’Ow d’you like our clever friend Joseph Young? Good at drawin’, ain’t he?’
    â€˜Yes, he is.’
    â€˜Good