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divulge your confidences to anyone. And now I’ll take my leave; it’s late.”
    â€œWill you visit Miss Peggy tomorrow?” Xenobia asked, turning anxiously to look at him. “She’ll be waiting for you.”
    â€œOf course.” Rees inclined his head in farewell and followed Twig back through the empty house to the dark lane beyond. Matthew, Rees thought, merited further attention.

 
    Chapter Seven
    The loud thud of a closing door woke Rees and he sat up quite suddenly in bed. That must be Simon going out to meet David to help milk the cows—but no. For a few seconds Rees didn’t remember where he was. He’d been dreaming of Lydia and, when he turned to the space next to him, he almost expected to see her lying beside him. But that side was empty, and disappointment swept over him. For all he’d wanted quiet, he missed the noisy arising of the children, the laughter and the thumping of their feet hitting the stairs as they went down to breakfast. Rubbing his hands across his face, he rolled out of bed and went to the window.
    The sky was beginning to lighten. Someone whistled sweetly in the yard outside and Rees saw Billy. He was just exiting through the garden gate to the stable yard beyond. “Billy,” Rees called. Billy looked up at him. “Can you show me the way to the docks?”
    â€œSure. It’s easy. You just take this street…” He seemed prepared to shout complicated directions from the yard through the window.
    â€œWait,” Rees said. “I’ll be right down.” He hastily put on his breeches and shoes. When he ran his hand over his face his whiskers scratched roughly against his palm; tomorrow he would have to shave. He knew he must look shaggy and unkempt.
    Although he heard Mrs. Baldwin in the kitchen, Rees crept quietly down the stairs and through the back door. He joined Billy in the yard and together they went through the door into the street outside.
    Salem was already waking up. Although some of the houses displayed no light, the lanes were filled with men on their way to jobs on the docks. Some were sailors and carried bags. But others seemed ordinary workingmen: the sail and rope makers, the shopkeepers who furnished the ships’ stores and a host of laborers who loaded and unloaded the ships. Others were exotics. Rees turned to stare at a pair of men walking away from the docks. One was short and dark, but not black. He was garbed in a white cap and a long white tunic over white trousers. His companion was even more striking: tall, almost as tall as Rees, this man wore a bright blue costume with flaring breeches and a wide-sleeved blouse. A large wrapped hat with a jewel in the center covered his head and he sported a curved sword at his waist. Although the man’s hair was not visible, his mustache and the beard that tumbled down his chest were gray. Rees watched them until they turned down a street and disappeared behind the buildings.
    When he turned back, Billy was laughing at him. “Those men,” Billy said, “are from India. Where the merchant ships go to pick up cotton and gems and spices.”
    â€œMy God!” Rees said in an astonished voice.
    â€œI would see other even more amazing sights if I worked on a merchant vessel,” Billy said, throwing a wistful glance at Rees. “The world is a wonderful place, Mr. Rees.”
    Bereft of speech, Rees could only nod.
    They turned a couple of corners but always headed east. As the lane wound past one of the houses, a sprawling edifice with weather-beaten gray shingles, a young girl peered out the window. She could not have been more than twelve or thirteen, just a few years older than Jerusha, Rees’s adopted daughter, but fatigue painted shadows under her blue eyes. Her fine light brown hair had come loose from its plait and hung wispily around the pale oval of her face. She rested her chin upon one hand and stared dreamily at the