Ambrose Nast

Do you understand what it must be like to have suffered like him?

It was too much for me, standing there above her, and I nearly broke down.

Her conviction was total unquestioning.

Behind me, Rankins bowed his head, embarrassed, out of place.

No one is coming, Florence, I told her finally, and summoned the strength to place my hand atop her own for comfort.

I said as gently as I could that the man from the ship tonight was just a sailor like any other, and would soon have to be on his way.

It does no good to lie, she said, pulling her hand away slowly.

He whispered it to me from the ship, hours ago, all the way across the water.

Keep me from being set free, Ambrose, and I'll put out your eyes.

Further discussion was pointless.

Rankins and I left the room.

I instructed that he stay in the house and watch over Florence until I returned from Colonel Morrow's house, and to let no one in unless I was with them, not even the colonel himself.

The light of true understanding seemed to be dawning in his eyes.

He followed me to the front door and out onto the step while Beverly shrank back in the gloom of the bottom floor.

She said, the Dutchman, Rankins whispered, casting a glance over my shoulder to make sure Beverly could not hear.

Yes, I confirmed.

My mind for math is not nearly what yours is, Tommy, but I think I'm correct that 9 September 1814 was 56 years ago to the night.

He shook his head, trying in vain to deny my logic.

You can't really think.

I cut him off.