After that, it had been easy to find Sophie's trail. Caleb was making good time, given that she had almost a full day's head start on him. The village of Stevenage had been the most productive so far. The tavern at which he devoured an unremarkable luncheon was immediately adjacent to the coach station. That station, he had guessed, supplied a steady stream of travelers in and out of the Hawk and Dove on a daily basis. This notion was confirmed by the woman who served the common room patrons, and fortunately for Caleb, she had an excellent memory. "Oh me, aye, we seen 'em, we did," she said when asked about Madame Fortier and his father, bobbing her head so eagerly that thin wisps of her hair seemed to float about her face. "Thought it rather odd that the lady was driving. She gave the hostler five crowns to care for the horse, and the gent didn't seem to mind a'tall." "Did anyone happen to notice their direction?" "Oh, north, sir. They all go north from here." She nodded, started to walk away, but Caleb put his hand on her arm.
