The panic-stricken Furlong turned to Adams.
“Never fear.” said Adams. “You have friends.”
With a snort, the officer beckoned to his men and they dragged Furlong outside. Adams made no move to get up from his chair. Curious, Drakov followed the press gang as they frog-marched their captive to the Boston Packet, moored at John Hancock’s wharf. An angry crowd was waiting for them there. The men of the press gang hesitated, looking to their leader.
“Go on.” the officer snapped at them. “They dare not interfere.”
He was dead wrong. A stone sailed out from the crowd. striking one of the sailors in the forehead. He cried out and brought his hands up to his face. Another followed and another and moments later. the press gang was rapidly retreating in a hail of rocks and bricks as the angry crowd pursued them to their longboat. Outnumbered as they were, the press gang knew better than to try to use their arms against the crowd. They piled into their longboat and quickly pulled away, their officer, blood streaming from his face, shaking his fist at them in fury. A cheer went up and the rescued Mr. Furlong was hoisted up onto their shoulders and carried to the tavern, where he happily celebrated his narrow escape. Drakov looked around, but there was no one at the table in the corner. Sam Adams had quietly disappeared.
The carriage let Drakov off in front of the Moffat residence on Newbury Street. A pretty young woman dressed in servant’s clothes answered the door. Her eyes grew wide as she saw Drakov and she curtsied deeply.
“Welcome, Master.” she said, looking down at the ground She stood aside to let him in and shut the door.
“Do not address me as ‘master.’ Sally.” Drakov said. In private, you may call me Nicholas. In the presence of others, you will call me ‘sir.’ Is that clear?”
“Yes, Nicholas.”
“Good. Go tell Moffat I am here.”
“No need.” said Moffat. from the stairway. He came up to Drakov and held out both hands. “Welcome. Father.”
Drakov winced. “How many times must I tell you’? You are not to call me that. Nor ‘master.’ either.”
Moffat dropped his arms and looked stricken. “Forgive me. In my delight at seeing you again, I had forgotten.”
“See that you do not forget again,” said Drakov. “Remember that we are both gentlemen here, of equal standing. When the time comes, you will introduce me to your friends as Nicholas Dark, a gentleman of independent means whom you knew well in London.”
“Yes, I remember,” said Moffat.”I will not slip up again. I swear. Sally, brew some tea.”
As Sally hurried to do Moffat’s bidding. Drakov glanced around at the elegant appointments of the home. “You have done well,” he said.
“I’ve followed all of your instructions to the letter,” Moffat said.
“Excellent. Then the meeting place has already been secured?”
“A small country chapel in Cambridge. not far from Harvard College.” Moffat said. “Well set back from the road and isolated.”
“Good. We shall look at it tomorrow. In the meantime, you can bring me up-to-date. I’d like to get started as soon as possible. What about the horseman’?”
Moffat smiled. “He has already made his 1st appearance. I’m pleased to report that it was quite effective.”
“You had no difficulty with the fugue clocking sequence?”
“I did it exactly as you’ve taught me,” Moffat said. “It worked perfectly.” He smiled, “Even better than I expected. One of the Sons of Liberty actually threw a knife at me. I activated the preprogrammed sequence, clocked out for an instant, and it appeared as if the knife passed through me. You should have seen their faces!”
“Perfect.” Drakov said. “Since they are so fond of terrorizing people. let’s see how they respond to some of their own medicine.” They sat down at the table as Sally brought in the tea and served them. “What is your assessment of their leaders?” Drakov asked.
“Well, their real leaders remain behind the scenes, for the most part.” Moffat said. “John Hancock quietly pursues his shipping interests and thanks to all the money his adoptive father made in smuggling. he lives in regal splendor in his mansion up on Beacon Hill. ‘King’ Hancock. they call him. But while he remains essentially above it all, he funds most of the radicals’ activities. James Otis is already beginning to show the symptoms of the insanity he will succumb to before long. He’s a highly eloquent speaker in the Assembly, but his manic depressive tendencies are already very much in evidence. He succumbs to frequent mood swings and often has a tendency to rant for hours on end. He’s alienated many of the others and though he recently won reelection, many of the citizens are starting to regard him as a fool. John Avery is less a leader than a follower. He’s Harvard-educated, a merchant who’s quite active in society. but not really a force to be reckoned with. Benjamin Edes and John Gill are chiefly propagandists. They publish the Boston Gazette and write whatever Adams wishes them to write, whether it has any bearing on the truth or not. Edes is rather temperamental, but like Gill and Avery. he. too. is more of an Indian than a chief. Joseph Warren’s a good man and Josiah Quincy is one of their best speakers. He can really fire up a crowd. But the real power behind the Sons of Liberty is Samuel Adams.”
“Yes, of course.” said Drakov. saw him earlier today.”
“Really?”
We did not exactly meet.” said Drakov, “but I saw him neatly foil the intentions of a Royal Navy press gang. Tell me more about him.”
“There’s quite a lot to tell,” said Moffat. “His father. Deacon Adams. was a prosperous merchant who owned his own wharf and a brewery on Purchase Street. As a young man. Sam went to Harvard and lived rather elegantly. His classmates called him ‘the last of the Puritans’ because he was never known to smoke or drink, take snuff or consort with women. He still likes to play up to that pious image, but the fact is that he can drink most men right under the table. Harvard ranks their students by their social standing and young Sam was ranked fifth in his class. He took his social standing very seriously. He didn’t even eat with the other students in the dining room, but instead dined privately, like an aloof young gentleman. All of this changed for him practically overnight.
“Deacon Adams was the director of the Land Bank. which he and some of his associates founded in an attempt to give some stability to colonial paper currency. Thomas Hutchinson was against it from the start, He fought the idea of the colonies printing up their own paper money and he petitioned Parliament to outlaw the Land Bank. which they readily agreed to. A lot of people were ruined as a result and Adams himself lost everything. Sam was reduced to waiting tables in the student commons, serving the very boys he’d been too good to eat with. He never got over it. His hate for the Hutchinsons is pathological.
“Even in his student days. he was already a fervent follower of John Locke. Recently he wrote in the Gazette. ‘It is the right of the people to withdraw their support from that government which fails to fulfill its trust. If this does not persuade government to live up to its obligation, it is the right of the people to overthrow it.’ That’s a direct quote from Locke. Sam was always more interested in politics than anything else. He has failed at absolutely everything he has ever tried.’ After he took his masters from Harvard. he accepted a position in a counting house under Thomas Cushing. He didn’t last long. He then tried his hand at business and wound up in debt within six months. The Deacon bailed him out, though he could hardly afford it. Sam then went into the family brewery business and proceeded to run that into the ground. as well. It’s still struggling along after a fashion. but I suspect it’s only because Hancock keeps him afloat. His political career seems to have started purely out of spite. The governor had apparently promised the Deacon a place on the Council, but when a vacancy occurred, he gave it to Andrew Oliver, instead. Sam remembers things like that. First chance he got, he ran for the Assembly, just so he could work against the governor.
“He then started up a small newspaper he called the Public Advertiser. Wrote most of it himself. That’s where he learned the fine art of propaganda. He would write inflammatory editorials and then, under different names. he would write ‘letters to the editor in support of the editorials he’d written. He still does that sort of thing, only now he’s doing it in the Gazette. After he started publishing the Advertiser, all of his old classmates started to avoid him. He is considered something of a lunatic. dangerous and disrespectable. Sam doesn’t care. He prefers the company of his lower-class friends down on the waterfront.
“He’s been married twice,” Moffat continued. “both wives named Elizabeth. The first one died of fever,
