Chapter 5-- The Market

Ben hauled a bucket of milk in the kitchen and set it down. “Here’s the milk, Robyn.”
Robyn grinned girlishly. “Thank you, Ben.” A yawn escaped her. “Oh, goodness.”
“Up late last night, Miss Rivers?” Agent Chaplin asked as her strode through the door. He picked up a copy of the Boston Evening Post.
“No, Mr. Chaplin. I think I was just up too early. The sun will sometimes wake me up. My window faces east, you know. Does the sun wake you up, Mr. Chaplin?”
Ben hid a smile behind his hand as Agent Chaplin looked over his newspaper at the chattering girl. He hadn’t really wanted an answer. “Um, no I can’t say that it does. By the way, it’s Agent Chaplin.”
“Oh, well that’s good, Mr. Chaplin because the sun can be a bit of a nuisance. Does your window face east?”
Ben quickly left the kitchen.
Agent Chaplin massaged his temples. “No, Miss Rivers, it does not face east.”
“Good.” Robyn bobbed her head. “Waking up early because of the sun can be such a nuisance.”
The agent groaned quietly as the ridiculous girl continued. She repeats herself, he mused. Now I know why Captain Long called her a silly, dimwitted girl.
Robyn smiled to herself. Agent Chaplin was thoroughly annoyed. His good breeding prohibited him from screaming at her to be silent, but the girl could see that he wanted to. Agent Chaplin would talk freely around her without thinking she was clever enough to understand. Smirking, Robyn glanced over her shoulder. The agent was rubbing his temples as if all her prattle had given him a head ache. Maybe it had.
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After breakfast, Agent Chaplin took a walk with Captain Long. The agent was worried that Benjamin Rivers would eavesdrop on their conversation if they remained in the house. The Shadow Fox could not find out about their conversation. They walked a little ways then sat down on a bench.
Long leaned back and watched the people that passed. The women with their rustling petticoats, the men with their suits and hats, the laughing and yelling children. “So what did you want to talk about, Agent Chaplin?”
Chaplin gave each and every young lad that passed a good look-over. “Capturing our young fox, of course. That is my sole purpose for leaving England, do remember.”
Long nodded absently. He was watching a group of giggling young girls.
Chaplin noticed cleared his throat loudly. “Captain, can we please keep our minds at the task at hand?”
Long reluctantly turned his head. “Yes, Agent Chaplin. Begin.”
“Now, the boy knows about the deserter, yes? Then we will lay a trap for him. When he comes, we will spring our trap.” Chaplin clapped his hands together. “And we will have our dog-fox.”
Long thought over this for a few minutes. “But he heard us talking about a trap.”
“Indeed.” The agent nodded. “But he won’t expect us to lay a trap when that he knows about. See?”
Frowning, Long shook his head. “I don’t follow you, sir.”
“Any one would think that we would not do something because our young friend overheard us planning it, yes?” Long nodded so Agent Chaplin continued. “Then we do the opposite of what he thinks we will do.”
“What if the boy thinks of that as well, Agent Chaplin?”
Grinning, the agent spread his arms. He will try to rescue this deserter, no matter what we do. If soldiers see that some one will make sure they go free, more will desert, understand? More deserters bodes well for the Rebels, yes?”
Captain Long nodded his head. “So he’ll attempt a rescue no matter if he suspects a trap or not.”
Agent Chaplin grinned slyly. “Precisely.”
“Look, Agent Chaplin, there’s Miss Rivers.” Captain Long nodded toward a small figure weaving through the crowd.
Robyn Rivers was having a difficult time. She had to push her way through the throng of people and dodge what the animals had left behind. “All this madness for a few vegetables,” she muttered.
She was so concentrated on not losing her footing, that Robyn ran strait into a British Officer. He fell backwards, barely missing a gift from a horse. In the process on running into the man, Robyn’s mobcap fell off revealing her roughly cut dark hair. While the officer stared at the horse’s leavings, the girl located her mobcap and pounced on it. Glancing around to make sure no one had noticed, she spotted Agent Chaplin. Blast!
The officer, meanwhile, had stood and discovered the cause of his fall. “You there, girl. What on earth were you doing?! Why don’t you watch where you’re going!?”
Robyn stood there, shoulders slumped and head bowed. She feigned listening to his tirade, but was really watching Agent Chaplin.
The agent had suddenly taken an interest in her and was heading in the girl’s direction.
Blast it all, he saw! The jig is up.
Chaplin tapped the officer’s shoulder. “Now, man, do you really need to lecture the poor girl? She wasn’t trying to run into you.”
Robyn and the officer blinked in surprise. “Agent Chaplin!” the man said. “I-I well, I’m sorry sir, I don’t know what came over me.”
Chaplin waved his excuses and apology away. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
The officer turned. “Forgive me lass, I know you didn’t mean to run into me.”
Humble and silly. Robyn curtsied. “The fault is all mine, good sir. Forgive me for darting into you. All this mess for a bunch off vegetables! Goodness, me. Boston these days! A person can not stroll the streets without fear for their very life.”
Agent Chaplin rescued the officer from further chatter. “May I escort you home, Miss Rivers? “
Worry churned in the girl’s stomach, but she excepted the arm he held our to her. “That would be wonderful, Mr. Chaplin.”
Chaplin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s ‘Agent Chaplin,’ Miss Rivers.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Chaplin, I was not listening. What did you say?” Robyn grinned inwardly as he groaned quietly. Annoying the agent was not only enjoyable, but also gave him the impression that she was silly and could not comprehend anything of importance.

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Cough. Ahem.
You see, I'm at college, and all the days are the same, and I just forgot until two minutes ago. Bad me.
I'm too pressed for time to tell you lovely readers anything extremely interesting, and my brain is more frazzled than my hair. Did that make sense? I don't know.

C.P. out!!

P.S. Dear Readers, I regret to announce that if you people do not prove that you care and I'm not posting to no one, you shall comment, or else I might do something like forget to post several weeks in a row--and yes, that was an amazing run-on sentence. (Babs, this means you!!!!)