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“I’m sorry,” Faith said softly. Winifred’s horrors made hers seem irrelevant. It was also apparent that the very young Winifred was very intelligent and articulate.

“Are you sure you wish to talk about this?” Sarah said to Winifred.

There was anger and strength in the young girl’s voice and a cold fire in her eyes. “Oh yes. I want to keep reminding myself so that I can feel good about killing the British when the time comes. And yes, I know it wasn’t British soldiers who hurt me, but it was men whom the British hired and paid. Now, Faith, do you have any idea what a young boy like Owen might have endured in the Royal Navy?”

Faith shifted nervously. “He’s hinted at some terrible things before he grew strong enough to defend himself.”

“My father was a sailor and what others did to him at night in the bowels of the ship are part of the reason he too deserted and we settled so far away from the sea. The captains and admirals say it doesn’t happen, but it does. They punish sailors when they are caught, but first they have to be caught, don’t they? Such sodomy as occurs in Royal Navy ships is a crime against God and man, yet it happens and little is done to stop it.”

“Your father told you?” Sarah said in astonishment that such a young girl could know so much.

“No, he told my mother and she told me so I could better understand his moods and his raging angers. We came out here to reject the world and find peace through God. Instead, I find that we cannot reject the world, and that there is no peace.” She laughed harshly. “I often wonder if there even is a God.”

“You said you would kill British, Winifred, just how do you intend to do this?” Sarah asked. “You will not be given a rifle, not even one of Mr. Franklin’s new ones.” She didn’t need to add that someone as small as Winifred would not be able fire a musket, much less withstand its recoil.

Winifred glared at her. “I have no idea, but I will do it.”

The other door opened and Benjamin Franklin walked in. “Well, how wonderful to see all my lovely and favorite young ladies happily conversing together. I trust you are all having a pleasant afternoon?”

“We are indeed,” Sarah said, and the other two nodded, forced smiles on their faces.

* * *

Burgoyne now lived in a tent with sod walls and planking for a floor and with as much of his personal baggage as had been rescued. As an old campaigner, he’d lived in far worse, as had most of the other senior officers. Only Tarleton complained about his new living quarters. Arnold said nothing. This was trivial in comparison to what he’d endured commanding American rebels en route to Canada with an army in what some called an epic march. He often wondered where he’d be if his march had resulted in a rebel victory instead of disaster.

To Fitzroy’s relief, there had been no attempt to evict either him or Hannah from their quarters which the fire had spared. As Fitzroy had suspected and hoped, the wind had spared virtually everything to the west of Detroit while destroying much of what lay to the east. Nor had Burgoyne made any attempt to move himself and his staff into the tiny fort, much to the relief of Colonel De Peyster and the garrison.

“I assume you have disturbed me here in my palace because you have something of substance to report?” Burgoyne said with an attempt at humor. He could have commandeered one of the several surviving buildings for his use, but hadn’t. The hundreds who were still trying to find someplace warm and dry appreciated the gesture.

“You may begin, Major.”

Fitzroy coughed and began. “First, sir, the confirmed death toll stands at only eleven, although several of the more seriously burned and injured may yet succumb. The fact that the fire had raged during daylight hours meant that few were asleep in their beds.”

“A small blessing,” said Burgoyne.

“One person drowned after jumping in the river, another had apparent heart failure, while the remainder were burned to death in the fire or died shortly afterwards. At least a hundred were injured, although most of the injuries were minor and many of the men have already returned to duty.”

“And the missing?”

“Fourteen, and I think at least some of them have taken the opportunity to desert. I’m sure they hope we will think their bodies were destroyed in the fire, and, God only knows, they may be right. However, several of the so-called missing were considered malcontents and troublemakers by their commanding officers, which makes me doubt the likelihood of their heroic deaths.”

Burgoyne chuckled wryly. “I’m surprised the number of missing is so low, but then, the disaster did strike before much planning could be done by any potential deserters. Now, you’ve had three days, have you isolated the cause?”

“Perhaps, although I’m not certain we’ll ever know definitely.”

Burgoyne gestured impatiently for him to continue. “Then tell me what you think you know.”

“Sir, we’ve isolated the cause of the fire, or, more precisely, where it started. It began in a barn near the western gate and spread like wildfire throughout the buildings of the town, missing, however, Fort Lernault. It was fanned by a west-blowing wind that, while it destroyed everything to the east of that barn, did not destroy anything to the west of it, nor did it destroy the barn in total.

“Inside the remains of the barn, we found three dead bodies.” Fitzroy paused. The memory of the horribly charred corpses sickened him and he felt slightly nauseous.

“Get it over with, Major,” Burgoyne said sympathetically.

Fitzroy took a deep breath. “Yes sir. The barn was owned by a man named Brownell who wasn’t there at the time of the fire. He’d gone for a meal and left the barn in the care of a friend named Leduc who was accompanied by two laborers. This was not unusual as Leduc and Brownell had known each other for years. Leduc owns a farm across the river.”

“So Leduc and his companions were the corpses. But that doesn’t tell us how it started.”

“Sir, they were not the three bodies, at least not all of them. Brownell identified Leduc’s remains based on a missing finger on his left hand. The other two bodies were those of British soldiers.”

Burgoyne sat erect. “What!”

“Through slightly melted brass buttons and belt buckles, I identified them as grenadiers, and two grenadiers, a sergeant and a corporal, are among the missing. They had been sent into town to buy forage for an officer’s horse, and Brownell’s was one place they were to try. Oh yes, there was a bayonet in the stomach of Leduc’s body, which implies some kind of struggle.”

Again Fitzroy fought the horrible memory of having to move the remains to try to ascertain their identity and cause of death. When I die, he thought, let it be quickly and not in a fire. He had no idea whether the men had been alive or dead when the fire consumed them and shuddered at the thought of burning alive. He recalled the horror of Braxton’s face and shuddered again.

“I then took a boat across the river to Leduc’s farm. I know I crossed into Haldimand’s Canadian territory, but I decided that a casual and unauthorized visit wouldn’t upset Haldimand, even if he were to find out about it.”

“Which he won’t, damn him,” Burgoyne rose and began to pace in the confines of the tent. “You were prudent in not asking my permission, which I might have had to deny, and you did well to handle it informally. What did you find?”

“No sign of Leduc, which confirmed that his was the body we thought, and nothing of the two laborers seen with him in Detroit. However, a neighbor said he saw them coming back from Detroit just about the time the fire started. The neighbor said he’d heard horses sometime after midnight. No, he didn’t go to inspect.”

“Conclusions, Major.”

“It’s possible the fire was an accident, or even the result of some kind of brawl between the two grenadiers and Leduc and his companions, which would account for the bayonet. However, I believe that sabotage is the most likely cause. In my opinion, Leduc was either a rebel sympathizer or a spy and that the two men came from Fort Washington. Leduc’s neighbors said he frequently mentioned how he detested us British. Whether they came to destroy Detroit, or whether it was an opportunity that arose, we’ll never know. I regret that I cannot give you anything more definite, but that will have to wait until and if we have those two men in custody. However, I consider that prospect most unlikely as they are doubtless many miles away from here.”