Free For Love of Country by William C. Hammond Page B

our employ. I don’t mean to sound callous, but I suggest we set aside your concern until after we have Caleb here at home to worry about it with us.”
    Stephen nodded his agreement. “Until we have Caleb home,” he said somberly.

Four
    Portland, Maine, Autumn 1787
    T HE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS, his father often said, and it seemed to Richard during those waning weeks of summer that the legions of hell had ascended from the depths to conspire against the Cutler family. Having agreed on their course of action, the Cutlers now sought to motivate others to work on their behalf. In his mission to Algiers, John Lamb had been careless with the details, and had failed as a result. Richard vowed that he would not make the same mistakes. Nevertheless, with much of the process outside his control, and with the details bedeviling him at every turn like a biblical swarm of locusts, by the end of August Richard’s mood was dark. Even Jamie’s silly antics did not have their usual effect, and Will gave him a wide berth when he saw his father in the parlor prowling back and forth like a lion in its cage.
    â€œAt least we know that Caleb is all right,” Katherine tried to comfort him early one Tuesday morning. They were sitting with Lizzy in the kitchen, its four windows open to allow in the warm, humid breeze. Katherine was watching her husband carefully. She felt his pain and ached for him to do something, anything that would give him purpose. Falcon ’s upcoming shakedown cruise would fit the bill. On Friday, Richard planned to take the new schooner down east to Falmouth. Being back under sail again was the ultimate remedy for whatever ailed him.
    â€œThere is that,” Richard had to admit.
    A year after Eagle ’s capture, the Cutler family had finally received direct word from Algiers. The letter had been written by Captain Dickerson
and had been forwarded by Charles Logie, the British consul in Algiers, to William Carmichael, the American chargé in Madrid. From there it had taken two months to reach Hingham. What Dickerson had to say was encouraging. Eagle ’s crew was being treated well, under the circumstances. And no one, at the time of the writing, had been sold off to slavery in Tripoli or Tunis, the fate of many other Christian prisoners. The crew, Dickerson reported, was kept together in barracks located near the harbor and had been put to work rebuilding the breakwater, a backbreaking task. Because he was the ship’s captain, he was excused from most work details and given leeway to walk about the city during daylight hours. Certain of his crew had been singled out for other duties, he wrote, including Caleb, who had been selected to serve as a domestic servant in the royal palace. Caleb had declined what had been meant as an honor, but he had not been punished for his refusal. And so far, not one American had converted to Islam to secure his freedom, an act encouraged by Arabs who coveted Western seafaring skills for their pirate fleets. The letter ended with Dickerson sending his respects to the Cutler family along with his prayer that Eagle ’s crew would not be forgotten.
    â€œIt was good of the dey to let Captain Dickerson write you,” Lizzy encouraged. “He didn’t have to do that.”
    Richard gave his cousin a wry smile. His foul mood was in no way relieved by the knowledge that soon after he returned home from Falmouth, she and her father would be returning to England.
    â€œPerhaps, Liz,” he said. “Though I doubt the dey was making any sort of humanitarian gesture. He wants his ransom money, and he expects this letter to expedite the payments.”
    â€œHow could he possibly know that the Cutler family is going to pay the ransoms, and not your government?”
    â€œI don’t think he does. Perhaps he misunderstands the situation. Algiers is small—it’s a fortified city much like ancient Sparta. Perhaps the dey thinks