Behind Dr. River’s desk, Agent Chaplen sat tapping his fingers impatiently. The door opened, and his fingered paused in mid-air. Captain Long entered tailed by a nervous-looking man. Smiling pleasantly, the agent interlocked his finders and leaned forward.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Bent, sir. John Bent.”
“You stood sentry at the gate facing the Neck two nights previous, yes?”
John Bent bobbed his head, a worried expression on his face.
Chaplen smiled patronizingly. “There is no cause to be anxious, Mr. Bent. I merely want to ask you a few questions.” The man relaxed and the agent continued. “That night you let two lads dressed in British uniforms pass. Why did you do this?”
“One of them, the older-looking blonde lad, handed me a letter of passage with your seal on it, sir.”
Agent Chaplen lifted his eyebrows and glanced at Long, who was equally surprised. “I see,” Chaplen said.
After a few minutes of contemplation, the agent returned to questioning the shifting Bent. “What did the lads look like?”
“Well, one looked like a man more than a lad. He had blonde hair and blue eyes.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Bent jumped in surprise and Long glanced at Chaplen for guidance.
“Enter,” the agent called.
Ben stepped into the room. Chaplen kept his eyes on Bent to gauge his reaction. The man stared open mouthed at Ben, but the lad didn’t seem to notice him.
“Captain Long, I polished you saddle as you requested.”
“Oh,” Long said. “Very well, uh, thank you.”
Bent was now pointing a shaking finger at the lad. “T-that, that’s him!”
Ben looked a Bent for the first time. Recognition crossed his face for an instant, then vanished. Frowning at the man pointing an accusing finger at him, he made for the door. Long, at the direction of Agent Chaplen, had stepped in front of it, barring his way.
“You realize, Mr. Rivers,” Chaplen said, “I could have you hung for what you did.”
Ben shrugged as if that fact was the least of his worries.
“So confident in your friend, are you? Trusting a little boy to save you? That’s a bit weak, wouldn’t you say?”
Ben lifted his chin and ignored Chaplen’s insults. Smiling, the agent turned back to Bent, who had not lowered his quivering finger.
“What did the other lad look like?”
Ben’s eyes widened in terror, and Agent Chaplen smiled smugly.
“Well, he had-”
He was interrupted by something colliding with his stomach. Ben had launched himself at Bent. The man gasped for air as Chaplen and Long wrestled the lad off of him. The captain pinned Ben against the door, and the agent returned to his seat behind the desk. The lad struggled, but Long was stronger.
After regaining his breath, the sentry stood. “His confidence returned with Ben pinned to the door, he started again. He was on a black horse. A mare, I think. Oddly, she had no saddle and a rope halter for a bridle. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I had other things to worry about. The lad was small, slight of build.” He nodded to himself. “Yes, that was it. Dark brown hair. Really dark, nearly black.”
The man seemed finished, so Chaplen prompted, His eyes?”
“Black.”
“Can you describe him further?”
Bent screwed his face in concentration. “He was staring off into the distance, thinking, I believe, so I didn’t get a really good look at him.”
Agent Chaplen smiled. “That is very valuable information. Thank you, Mr. Bent. You have done a great service to your country.”
Long forced Ben to the side to allow the sentry to leave via the door. After it closed, Long released Ben and leaned against the door.
Ben smirked. “’A great service?’ He’s described half the lads in Boston!”
Agent Chaplen smiled pleasantly. “Perhaps. But I now know the color of our little dog-fox’s hair. I wasn’t sure of it before.”
Ben smirked as if that new bit of information was irrelevant.
A second person knocked on the door. Ben peered over Long’s shoulder as if he could see through the wood.
“Robyn? Is that you?”
“No.” said a female voice on the other side of the door. “It’s the queen of England. What are you doing in there, Ben?”
“I’m trapped,” he explained simply.
There was a pause. When she next spoke, Robyn’s voice had changed slightly to the more familiar girlish one. “How on earth did you manage that?”
“Long story.”
“Are Mr. Chaplen and Captain Long in there with you?”
“Aye.”
“Well, it’s nearly lunch time.”
They listened to her retreating steps in silence, each with his own thoughts--Ben thinking of the Shadow Fox, Long thinking of lunch, and Chaplen contemplating the events of the morning.
“You can let the boy go, Captain.”
Long stepped away from the door, and Ben bounded down the hall. The captain glanced back at the agent. A thoughtful frown furrowed Chaplen’s eyebrows.
“Sir?”
The agent looked up. “Oh, I was just thinking about Miss Rivers.”
Long stared at him in confusion. “For what purpose?”
“She’s been acting strange lately.”
The captain shrugged. “I haven’t noticed anything.”
“Ah, but I have.”
~~~~~~~
Robyn was downstairs setting the table for the noon meal when Ben found her. He glanced around to make sure no one was in ear shot. “He questioned the sentry as to what the Shadow Fox looks like.”
Robyn didn’t seem too concerned. “The Shadow Fox could have been wearing a wig; he doesn’t know anything for sure. Also, you can’t simply describe a person and know exactly when he or she looks like. All he has in stone is my, er, the Shadow Fox’s eye color.”
“Chaplen’s right.”
Robyn looked up to see her brother frowning. “Right about what?”
“He said that one day you would become careless, and he would catch you.” With that, he stomped out of the house and slammed the door.
Robyn sighed. She knew he was worried about her. The girl had only acted nonchalant to dispel his fears. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked. In truth, she was really getting edgy. What if Chaplen got the crazy idea that she was the Shadow Fox?
-----
Yay!! I always liked this chapter! Oh, no! Is Chaplen figuring it out? Is Ben right? Is he going to get Robyn? Is the next chapter the end of the Shadow Fox?! Will Long ever get lunch?!
Let's find out next week.
So, I noticed we had two Russian visitors. I find this very exciting! I have a soft spot for Russians (a red-headed one in particular, hurhur). Welcome! I would use the one word in Russian I know (hello) but I don't know how to spell it in with our alphabet (or the Russian, for that matter!), so, greetings, friends!
Anyway, tune in next week for the next chapter (unless I get all dramaticy and not post to see if anyone notices).
~C.P.
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