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Page 187
play had been right about the soldiers following the settlers. And the rest . . . ?
"Then we will head east toward Pittsborough to enjoy the remainder of our 'holiday.' And when they forget to watch us"'
He was interrupted by Maitland's appearance in the kitchen. He held a linen napkin against the front of his trousers. "Are you people" he said the word as contemptuously as he'd used any other that day, "going somewhere?"
Francis had apparently regained his sense of humor. "Of course we are going somewhere, since we cannot partake of the hospitality of Thorn's inn forever."
"Then where"
Francis interrupted the soldier. "I was just telling Miss Walker that we will conclude our holiday by making our way back to Pittsborough. Perhaps you would enjoy some intelligent company on your way back to Fort Pitt. I had the impression that your men had but a single brain between themis it yours?"
Maitland glared at Francis. "Perhaps we will travel with you back to the fort, to make certain that is your intention."
"We will welcome such illustrious company." Francis almost managed to keep his words from sounding sarcastic. "Farewell, Miss Mariah. And thank you for your hospitalityand warning. We shall heed all you said."

The inn was quiet that afternoon, as Thorn sat at the table in his room. He preferred it that way. On days after a normal crowd's departure, he always wished that he had not turned his home into an inn.
And the day's horde had been far from normal.
But civilization had encroached upon his refuge, making him yield to the practicality of collecting fees from those who would eat his food and sleep in his shelter.
He would have left all hosting to René if he could. After an ordeal like that just past, the idea seemed even more appealing.
Ordeals. Never before had so many arisen in so short a

 
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