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carry letters and best wishes from Serafina, three of those, and her parents, one from each. And her husband, Nathan Baring, has written several introductions to people he assures us will be of considerable help along the way. He agrees with your decision not to visit Washington, by the way. He says it was most sensible, and sends you his sincerest regrets over your loss. As do the others.” Reginald pondered the deck by his polished boots. “There. I believe that is everything. Yes.”
    “We shall have ample time to discuss such matters.”
    “Indeed so.” Reginald opened his coat and withdrew his pocket watch. He flipped open the cover, then smiled at Matt’s round-eyed surprise. “Have you never seen such a timepiece before, lad?”
    “No, sir. How does the cover spring so?”
    “I shall show you. And more besides, because the back opens to reveal the most remarkable instrument you shall ever lay eyes upon. But all that must wait a bit.” Reginald nodded approval as the steward directed two seamen to carry Falconer’s chests into the aft cabins. He then called to the quarterdeck, “We are ready to depart, Captain.”
    The captain, clean-shaven save for long sideburns that ended in dagger points, bellowed, “Officer of the watch, prepare to make way!”
    “Aye, sir.” The lieutenant stood by the portal leading belowdecks. He raised his own voice and called, “Cast off there! Bosun, pipe the mainsail!”
    Reginald watched the sailors leap to do the skipper’s bidding. He lowered his voice so that Matt would not hear. “I fear this mission shall prove mortally dangerous.”
    Falconer tasted several replies before settling upon, “Your visit to Salem has already proved a healing balm. I can only hope that I shall be able to return the favor.”

Chapter 5
    Two days after clearing the barrier islands and entering deep ocean waters, they met with a blow straight from the southwest, the driest of Atlantic winds except when escorting a hurricane. Captain Harkness spent the better part of a day searching the far reaches with glass to his eye and conferring with his chief lieutenant, a studious young man by the name of Rupert Bivens. The captain eventually decided they were in no immediate danger, and Falconer agreed. They held steady to their course and did not turn north.
    The ship was a clipper, as were half of the Langston fleet. A newfangled design, these clippers were distrusted by many sailors. They were narrow at the beam and handled like a racing horse, quick off the mark and very sensitive to any alteration of course or wind. But they flew. Falconer had traveled twice before upon them and remained fascinated at the way they sliced through even the roughest of seas.
    The waves crested as high as the ship’s foredeck, and beneath the blue-black sky the waves marched into the horizon like silver mountains. Their course held them to an angle, so they met the waves just ahead of the starboard beam. The ship did not bob nor sway, as Falconer would have expected. Instead, the vessel gripped the wind in teeth of canvas and cleaved straight through the incoming crests. He spent hours by the wheel, observing how the steersman turned it ever so slightly, such that the ship met the wave’s crest almost head on, and then allowed the departing swell to guide it back on course. Even in these great seas, a light hand was required for such maneuvers.
    Many of the passengers were rendered helpless by the heavy seas. The ship rolled and at times took water over both gunnels. The rigging creaked and the wind sang in the rigging. From his place beside the steersman, Falconer could hear any number of belowdecks passengers moaning in agony. Thankfully, Matt remained untouched by seasickness. He spent hours at Falconer’s side, adopting the wide-leg stance to absorb the motion and viewing the majesty of this new world in wide-eyed silence. From time to time he would ask a question, and Falconer would respond at length,