“At least he does not mention my name,” she muttered, and heard at that moment a soft movement behind her. Dr. Simon had come into the room and she had not noticed.
He said, “Mr. Lamm believes that he has extended a courtesy by not naming you.”
Hannah put the paper back down on the desk and managed a smile. “It would have been more courteous not to print this at all. I don’t like being a curiosity.”
Dr. Simon inclined his head. His neck linen was spattered with blood that hadn’t yet dried.
“I can appreciate the difficulty. I must take some responsibility for the fact that he was allowed into the room yesterday. Is there some way that I may make amends?”
“Yes,” Hannah said firmly. “You can put me to work and keep me busy, Dr. Simon.”
“That much I can promise you, Miss Bonner.” Dr. Simon gestured toward the door. “Shall we begin?”
At four o’clock Hannah came down the steps to the sight of Cicero on the driver’s box and Will Spencer holding the landau door for her.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you.” She accepted his hand up into the carriage. “I’m glad you came, but it’s good that you didn’t bring Kitty.” She looked down at herself; her gown could not look in worse repair if she had spent the day fighting her way through the bush. Will did not seem concerned at all, but he did look closely at her as he settled himself.
“She would be taken aback, that’s true.”
“She would be horrified,” corrected Hannah, with some satisfaction. “I’m afraid this is what comes of vaccinating Irish orphans. Tomorrow I will know better what to expect.”
“Tomorrow,” said Will, “your eye will be very charming shades of black and blue.”
With two fingers Hannah touched the swollen flesh very lightly. “Just a three-year-old in a panic. She didn’t mean to do it.”
“I hate to think what she might accomplish if she put her mind to it,” said Will. “You had a good day otherwise?”
Hannah drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t really had time to think. But yes, it was a good day. I learned the basics of the vaccination method and then I assisted the doctors. There are a number of patients who should be in the New-York Hospital, but as they are very close to death Dr. Simon has kept them in his wards. Oh and Will, Dr. Simon is going to lend me his translation of Seats and Causes of Disease. I have some extracts that Hakim Ibrahim sent me, but not the whole—”
She paused, realizing that she had been running on without considering how Will might react to such details, but there was nothing but simple curiosity in his expression.
“I also learned a few words of Irish. ‘No biting’ being the most helpful. And now I’ve talked enough. How did Kitty fare today?”
“Well enough, I think, although she was very pale when she came back from her excursion. Dr. Ehrlich called on her—I think he was disappointed not to find you in.”
“No doubt,” Hannah said dryly. “I suppose he bled her again.”
“I couldn’t say. You will find her napping, I think. And you had another disappointed visitor this morning. Manny Freeman.”
“Manny Freeman,” Hannah echoed. “I had forgot all about his coming by. I wanted to talk to him about—” She stopped, and Will blinked at her in a way that reminded her suddenly and quite unexpectedly of Runs-from-Bears. And what a strange thing that was, because Hannah could not think of two men who resembled each other less in physical appearance.
Will said, “If you can wait another half hour for your dinner, I think we should have a talk. Shall I ask Cicero to take us for a short drive?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I think that would be a good idea.”
Later Hannah had no memory of the first part of the drive, because all of her attention was focused on Will Spencer’s face as she told the story of what had happened in Paradise since the Sunday morning she and Elizabeth had found Selah Voyager under a hobblebush.
When she had finished, recounting as much of her conversation with Liam Kirby as she could recall and felt comfortable sharing, Will said nothing at all for a long time. Instead he stared out the window, turning his hat in his hands.
Hannah didn’t mind waiting, and she didn’t mind the silence; she had grown up in a household where quiet contemplation was highly prized, and she trusted Will Spencer. But now that she had laid out the whole story, piece by piece, she felt the weight of it again.
“This is a very dangerous business,” Will said finally. “I should send you straight home to Paradise.”
Hannah sat up straight. “I’m very tired of this silliness, Will, I must say.”
He raised a brow at her. “Silliness?”
“Mrs. Sloo tells me I belong neither in a birthing room nor in the Almshouse sick wards; Dr. Ehrlich tells me I don’t belong in medicine—something Mr. Lamm found it necessary to print in his newspaper, as I’m sure you’re aware by now—”
Will inclined his head.
“—and you tell me I don’t belong in the city at all. I expected more of you, of all people.”
It was not often that Will Spencer showed strong emotion, but Hannah saw that she had managed to push him that far.
“You do not understand, Hannah.” He was angry and offended both, but so was she.
“I do. I understand that Manny is in danger of his life, and that you’ve been helping with the … the voyagers. Can’t you just say as much and stop being so mysterious? I’m not a child who can’t be trusted to keep silent.”
Will’s jaw worked once or twice as he turned his attention out the window again. He said, “You are more like Elizabeth every time I see you.”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
“I meant it as one.” He pushed out a deep breath. “We call ourselves the Libertas Society, and in the last eight years we have helped one hundred thirteen slaves to freedom. Sometimes we have provided money anonymously or arranged to buy someone’s freedom through a third party, but more have run away with our assistance. Some of those north, through Curiosity and Galileo, some to England. We also are involved in stopping the kidnapping of free blacks and the unlawful transport of blacks to the Southern states, where they can be sold into permanent slavery. There are seven of us, including Almanzo. I cannot tell you who the others are, because we are each of us sworn to keep those names secret. What else do you want to know?”
“Does Amanda know?”
“Yes,” said Will. “In theory she has known from the beginning, although she is never informed of the details. For her own protection. After the trouble in England I promised her I would never keep … my activities … from her again. And of course I’ve made provisions, if something should go wrong—” He stopped himself.
“But Elizabeth doesn’t know.”
“No. I saw no reason to implicate her, and in fact Curiosity and Galileo insisted that your family be kept out of it.”
His expression was very calm now, even relieved. Hannah realized that she and Will Spencer had something in common: neither of them had the freedom to talk openly about the work that was most important to them.
In a gentler tone she said, “And what happened at the Newburgh dock? Who could have betrayed you, and Selah?”
“I don’t know,” said Will. “But I will find out. The answer is somewhere in that building.” And he gestured with his chin out the window.
They had left the city proper and were now on an unpaved street. There was the stink of tanneries and slaughterhouses, livestock and pig slurry. Not far ahead of them came the bawling of cattle and the landau slowed down suddenly, Cicero chirping calm words to the team. The air filled with dust from the milling animals.
“The Bull’s Head,” said Will as they inched their way past a tavern flanked on both sides by cattle pens. “The drovers bring the cattle here from the countryside, and the auctions are held there, in the tavern.”
“What does this have to do with the voyagers?” asked Hannah.
 
; “Micah Cobb and the Swamp Boys meet here, every Friday and Wednesday night. A sort of association of black-birders, you’d have to call them. That’s how they divide the work up among themselves.”
“This Cobb is behind what happened on the Newburgh dock?”
“Yes. The only question is where he’s getting his information.”
Will leaned forward toward Hannah. “I’ve answered your questions, and now I’m going to ask you for something. This is a dangerous business, and it’s coming to a head. You did us a great service by passing on Liam Kirby’s message, but I’m asking you to step back now and let us take care of it. Will you agree?”
Hannah hesitated. “I am worried about Manny.”
Will’s expression hardened, just enough for Hannah to see the conviction there, and the strength of purpose. He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him with a raised hand.
“Did I ever tell you that my grandmother Falling-Day gave you a Mohawk name?”
“Did she.” She had managed to surprise him.
“She called you ‘The Dreamer.’ It’s a great compliment among my mother’s people to be called a dreamer. She said that you live most of your life in unseen worlds and come into this one only when you have some purpose to serve. I think you have a great purpose to serve with your Libertas Society.”
Will’s jaw worked thoughtfully, and when he looked away Hannah thought he was trying to hide a grin. She had amused him, but he did not wish to insult her. Finally he said, “In that case, you will give me your word that you will leave Micah Cobb and the blackbirders to us.”
“If that is the only way I can be of help to you, yes.”
Will sat back and ran a hand over his face. “Thank you. I give you my word that we will do everything in our power to make sure that no harm comes to Manny. He will be leaving here very soon.”
“Curiosity and Galileo will be relieved when he is away, and safe.” She did not say the rest of it, that relief would come at a high price; their only son would never be able to come home again unless he left his wife and child behind.
“So will we all. Now I think it is time to go home and see that you get your dinner.” And he called up to Cicero, who began to turn the team immediately.
Now as they passed the Bull’s Head there was a woman standing in the doorway of the tavern, tall and slender and bow-backed with weariness. Dark hair wound around her head, copper-skinned; a half-breed. She caught Hannah’s eye and her expression changed as did her posture, her back straightening so quickly that Hannah was reminded of her grandfather’s hunting dogs when they got the scent of a wolf. Alike and not alike; cousin and enemy. A rippling shock raced up Hannah’s spine and down her arms to tingle in her fingers, as if the strange woman in the doorway of the tavern had pointed a gun at her.
The carriage came to a sudden halt again, jerking Hannah’s attention to the opposite side of the carriage where a procession had appeared. Two young boys pounding on drums were followed by a long, skeleton-thin man in a butcher’s apron. In one hand he carried a large and well-polished cleaver, and with the other he led a cow on a rope. He stopped at Will’s window and smiled broadly, showing two deep dimples and eyeteeth that had been filed to points.
“Good day, sir, good day. The finest bit of beef you’ll see this spring, sir. Bought her at auction just this morning. Will you have some of her?”
While Will negotiated with the butcher about what cuts of meat he would take and at what price, Hannah turned back to the tavern, but the woman was gone. When the butcher had gone on his way, Hannah touched Will’s sleeve and pointed with her chin.
“There was a person standing there, an Indian woman. Did you see her?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Her name is Virginia Bly. The innkeeper’s wife.”
“She’s the first Indian woman I’ve seen since I came to the city,” Hannah said. “She gave me the strangest look—”
“Have you not heard her name before?”
“I have not. Should she be familiar to me?”
Will studied the door frame thoughtfully. “I thought Liam Kirby might have mentioned her. He is married to Bly’s oldest daughter, Jenny. You didn’t know?”
Hannah forced herself to look at Will, although she knew he would see more in her face than she wanted to show. “That he is married, yes. I knew that. But Mrs. Bly could not know me. Why would she look at me like that?”
Will hesitated. “How much did Liam tell you?”
“Enough,” said Hannah. “As much as I care to know.”
They were silent for a very long time. When Hannah raised her head, Will had turned away politely to study the activity on the streets as if he had never been in the city before. He was as ever the English gentleman who would not pry in private matters.
Hannah swallowed down her irritation and her curiosity. Just yesterday she had decided that she wanted to know something of Liam’s life here in the city, and she should be satisfied to have had that opportunity with so little trouble.
Be careful what you ask for; it was one of Elizabeth’s favorite sayings, and Hannah felt its full force as the landau took them back to the city in silence.
APRIL 24, 1802. EVENING.
My first full day at the Almshouse. As a part of my introduction to the practice of smallpox vaccination Dr. Simon vaccinated me. He made small incisions in both my upper arms with a sharp lancet, hardly deep enough to draw blood. Into these incisions he rubbed virus material taken this morning from an orphan who was vaccinated eight days before. Dr. Savard then showed me how records are kept and materials are stored.
I observed for the rest of the morning and in the afternoon I assisted in the women’s ward. The patients here are all too poor to pay the four-dollar fee to be admitted to the City Hospital. Many are newly arrived by ship and have no money, friends, or language, and of those, I am told, more than a few end up buried in the paupers’ graveyard.
Dr. Savard is to introduce me to most of my duties here. To me his manner is curt but not directly insulting. To the patients he is less abrupt but distant. Mr. Magee, who seems to be both caretaker and orderly, asked me if I had ever taken a scalp. He asked this question in Dr. Savard’s hearing. Dr. Savard looked very pointedly at Mr. Magee’s bald head, arched an eyebrow, and laughed aloud. He has a wit as quick as Will Spencer’s but little of kindness or patience to temper it; he indulges his sense of humor at the expense of others. And still he performed a service, in that Mr. Magee has asked me no more silly questions.
Dr. Simon says that everyone will soon be accustomed to me and will go about their business normally. I hope he is right. I can learn a great deal from the doctors here, if they will let me work.
APRIL 26. EVENING.
The air in the city is heavy with soot; I have heard birds but seen no living creatures beyond men, dogs, pigs, sparrows, rats, and horses this day. I feel a thunderstorm coming.
Examined seven patients vaccinated before I arrived here. None have yet reached day eight. Four new vaccinations, two observed and two performed with Dr. Simon’s guidance. He seems well pleased with the preservation technique suggested by the Hakim in his last letter and will adopt it in the clinic.
My own vaccination day two. Sites on both arms dry, no symptoms.
Examined five orphans and dosed them all for worms; assisted in two normal deliveries, mothers and infants all in good health, and a stillbirth. The mother, a girl of fourteen years, turned away and would not look at her child. Removed dead tissue from Mrs. Hallahan’s suppurating breast. She is in great pain and opium provides little relief.
One thing I had not expected to need here was a knowledge of foreign languages. The little bit of French I learned from lessons with Elizabeth was all but used up by the arrival of a number of Acadians, and I floundered until Dr. Savard came to my rescue. Every day we see patients who are newly arrived from the docks and have no English. Twice I have been called upon to speak Scots and find that I am grown clumsy with it from
long disuse. My grandmother Cora would be disappointed and my cousin Jennet outraged.
When Irish is needed, I must call on Mr. Chamberlain from the porter’s desk. Mr. Holbein from the carpentry shop does for German, Mrs. Gronewold for Dutch, Mr. Luedtke for Danish and Swedish, Dr. O’Connell for Spanish and Italian as he learned these languages when he was a ship’s surgeon. Dr. Savard speaks the French language fluently. According to Mr. Magee, who has stopped asking me questions and instead plies me with gossip whenever I am near, no matter how little interest I show, Dr. Savard lived much of his early life in France and then in French Canada. Mr. Magee also informs me that the doctor wears his hair shorn very short because he detests lice. A very strange preoccupation for a doctor who works with the poor of this city.
There are on occasion African servants and slaves who come to us for care but thus far all of them have had some English. I have seen no Indians at all, which does not surprise me in this overcrowded city.
Of all the white immigrants the German are the most openly disliked and are often treated very badly. It is a revelation to me to see that O’seronni hatred can also be turned toward their own in this way.
I have begun a list of the most crucial terms in all these languages, which I keep in my apron pocket. Thus far I have recorded “please” and “thank you,” “where is the pain?,” “hold still,” and “I can help you.”
APRIL 28. EVENING.
Today I found the room they call the nursery, where the orphaned infants are kept. What misery.
APRIL 29. LATE AFTERNOON.
Overcast for most of the day; some showers. Two buntings on my windowsill this evening, chased away by a robin, the robin then dislodged by a crow who stares at me with a sharp black eye and reminds me of Dr. Savard. Another curiosity about the doctor: he seems to have memorized much of Dr. Morgagni’s writings, which he quotes at great length in Latin or English as his mood dictates. I am glad now of the hours Elizabeth made me spend with Latin grammar, as I am mostly able to follow his mutterings. When Dr. Savard examines a patient he asks the question out loud: Ubi est morbus? Where is the disease? as he begins his questioning.