Withringhold Farm, ~1pm Sunday May 5th, 1771


Sunday was always quiet at the farm, and Sam walked up into the yard with the lull of the village behind him building to an ear-aching silence until some pigeon fluttered onto the barn roof and began to call. The family would be doing quiet and contemplative things as the mistress and house staff finished the making of a heavy meal, and though they supposed Hugh at home and his wife supposed him at work, doubtless the supervisor was in the back shed awaiting Sam's presence even now.

Just then Sam caught sight of his brother Nate poking about the end of the workers' accommodation, likely trying to get a good look in the panes to see if Sam was there. He looked a touch irritated, if amusingly fancy in his church clothes. Whatever he wanted might be important or it might be nothing, but would certainly prove a delay - should Sam not slip quietly away around the house upon the moment, of course.