Chapter ONE - Weebly

those around it, and it was modest when compared with
the Hancock estate farther down the road. But still it
was impressive. Constructed of white marble, it was
solid and square and stood three stories high. A wide
flagstone drive led from the street to the door. Before it,
broad marble steps led to an ornate portico supported
by proud Corinthian columns. A carriage waited by the
house, a large chestnut cart horse standing before it with
its head lowered, a grizzled driver seated behind the
beast. He eyed Ethan with unconcealed curiosity as the
thieftaker approached.
“Wha’ happ’n’d t’ you, mate?” the man asked. “I
once hit a felleh with my cart—looked a bit like you do
now.”
Ethan chuckled. “It wasn’t a cart,” he said, and
climbed the steps to the front entrance.
The servant who answered his knock was a whitehaired
African man, smartly dressed in black linen. He
regarded Ethan dubiously, even after the thieftaker told
the man his name.
“Mister Berson is expecting me,” Ethan said. “If you
don’t believe me, you can find the man with the silver