The weather today has been miserable and wet, autumn has begun in full force here. The leaves cling to my boots in great wet clumps as we walk. Good English weather.
We head toward the Southwest along the rough roads of this country. We have taken great pains to avoid people and towns as we go. We thus far have traveled mostly during the night, hoping that the darkness would protect us from being spotted by the locals. Our eventual destination is some ways off, and we must make good time in order to intercept the American courier who is in possession of the stolen packet.
My mind has been on Mr. M------, my surgeon's mate back aboard the Acasta. He is a capable fellow when it comes to surgery of course, but I am concerned for the men aboard the Acasta should there be a grave injury whilst I am away. It seems quite a foreign thing to absent myself from my post and be on land, even if it is on the King's business.