Three of them clutched carpet bags. The navy yard was burning and one of the ships was alight. Evening was approaching and most of Washington's remaining inhabitants were desperately trying to flee south. Two of the young women raised their tear-stained faces to the window above the doorway where they hoped to see the owner of the establishment, and their recently abandoned employer, Mistress Katherine Du Barrie.Lucy held her breath as she heard the rattle of a chain and the noise of the door bolts being withdrawn. She was relieved as the door opened, and delighted to see the familiar face of Jessie, one of the two mulatto slaves who served the ladies (and on busy nights, some of the ladies' beaus), of the Du Barrie establishment, commonly known as, "Kitty's Cathouse". Behind Jessie, calm and stately as ever, stood Madam Du Barrie. The forty-year-old matriarch was tastefully dressed in pale blue silk, gathered below her imposing bosom with a thin gold cord. Her second best string of. She didn't know how far she had come, and fought the temptation to ascend one of the ridges along the creek she followed to see if she could make out the light glistening off the distant river.She'd taken less than a dozen steps when far behind her she heard the triumphant cry of a man followed by the pain filled scream of a woman. Someone had claimed a wife, or a slave, she thought for that cry had been filled with true agony.Almost she ran again, but stilled the nervous twitter of her heart, run, walk, run, walk, that was the way to cover great distances. The cry had been far behind her too, not a near thing at all. It had the muted quality distance gave such sound, she told herself.She walked for a hundred count, and then began to trot, a ground eating pace that would allow her muscles a little rest. She followed the creek, keeping it on her left shoulder as she ran, trusting it to lead her to the Great River, and freedom.The creek joined a larger one, and at the joining she met.
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