Free Valley Forge by David Garland Page A

kind of slender waist that needed no corset. Though they had a maid who helped with the cooking, Miranda insisted on preparing some breakfast for their visitor. It was only when he was eating it that Proudfoot realized how hungry he had been. They were in a room at the rear of the shop that served both as dining room and as a storage place for books.
    "This is so kind of you, Mrs. Hughes," said Proudfoot.
    "It's my pleasure," she replied. "It's such a treat for us to have the famous Ezekiel Proudfoot in our house."
    "Famous or infamous?"
    "A good question."
    "Famous to all true Americans," said Hughes. "Infamous to the British army and the Tories. They would dearly love to catch you."
    "Have my prints aroused so much enmity?" asked Proudfoot.
    "Yes. That shows how effective they are."
    "Good."
    When Proudfoot had finished his meal, Miranda cleared the plate away, then returned almost immediately. She snapped her fingers.
    "We must find a new name for you," she decided.
    "Why?"
    "Because your own could get you hanged."
    "Am I really in such danger?" said Proudfoot.
    "If your identity becomes known."
    "Miranda is quite right," said Hughes peremptorily. "You must be baptized afresh, my friend. What shall we call you?"
    "Choose a simple name. It's easier to remember."
    "Then I have just the one," said Proudfoot. "I've a cousin in Boston named Reece, and another whose Christian name is Allen. Put the two of them together and we have Reece Allen."
    "Reece Allen," she repeated. "Yes, I like that."
    "From now on, that's what we shall call you," said Hughes.
    "This is an extraordinary bookshop," remarked Proudfoot with amusement. "I come in hungry and walk out fed. I arrive with one name and leave with another. What other transformations will there be?"
    "Only time will tell, Reece."
    Proudfoot liked them. The more he heard about Pearsall and Miranda Hughes, the more unconventional they seemed as a couple. The wife was by no means confined to domestic duties. Miranda was an astute woman, who had once edited a newspaper in Baltimore and who now lent her journalistic talents to the cause of independence. It emerged that they had five children, a surprise to Proudfoot, who found it hard to imagine how two people of such dramatically contrasting sizes could produce any progeny between them. Miranda seemed too small and fragile to contemplate motherhood, and Hughes looked as if he would prefer to read a book in bed rather than sire a child.
    They were enjoying a leisurely conversation when, without any warning, Hughes fired a direct question at their guest.
    "What did you say your name was?" he demanded.
    "Ezekiel Proudfoot." He bit his lip. "Oh, no," he said, annoyed that he had been caught out so easily. "It should be Reece Allen."
    "Remember that."
    "I will, Mr. Hughes."
    "It could be the difference between life and death."
    "Then I won't make that mistake again."
    "Where will Reece stay?" asked Miranda.
    "We'll find him somewhere, my dear. Meanwhile, I daresay that there are a few questions that he'd like to ask us. Is that not so, Reece?"
    "It is," said Proudfoot. "I've been sent here to work on a newspaper, but I don't even know what it's called."
    "
The Pennsylvania Patriot
."
    "How often is it published?"
    "Once a week at least."
    "At least?"
    "If events justify it, we sometimes produce a special issue."
    "On what day of the week does it normally come out?"
    "No specific day," Miranda explained. "We change the day of publicationregularly in order to confuse our enemies. If they knew that it was issued on the same day every week, they would be waiting to see how it was distributed."
    "And how is that done?"
    "We have a system."
    "But there's no need for you to know what it is," said Hughes blandly. "The less you know about that side of it, the better. Secrecy is our watchword, Mr. Allen. Complete secrecy."
    "I understand, Mr. Hughes."
    "All that need concern you is the
Patriot
. It's the sole reason you're here. You supply the