“I’m on duty.”

  “Forever? Or do they let you go home to the little woman—”

  “There’s no woman. What woman of quality would marry a man as poor as me?”

  “A woman who values honor above money.”

  “As if there were any such woman on God’s green Earth.”

  “Many such,” said Elisha. “And I pray you find one, and soon, too.” Though he knew that the only woman this constable would find would let him do her standing up against an alley wall for two shillings.

  “Here’s an earnest. When your shift ends, these two shillings will buy you a couple of pints till I show up, unless I’m already there when you come off your shift.”

  The constable took the shillings. “Just a couple of drinks, not any kind of real money, not a bribe.”

  “Of course not,” said Elisha.

  He sauntered away, back toward the main commercial docks. He had all he needed—which of the hulks held the real criminals, though for all he knew they were all imprisoned because they had stolen food for their families in this time of spreading famine.

  Back in their room above a tavern in Belfast, well back from the docks, Elisha found Alvin asleep with his boots on. Since there was only the one bed, Elisha didn’t like to have boots dirtying things up where he would sleep.

  “If I don’t want my boots to leave dirt on the bed,” said Alvin softly, “there’ll be no dirt on the bed. Just as there are no fleas, no bedbugs, no mosquitos, no roaches, no potato bugs, no silverfish, no moths or flies or baby dragons. Have you ever stayed in a cleaner hotel than this room?”

  Elisha chuckled. “You’re a fine traveling companion.” Then he described to Alvin which was the hulk with all the actual criminals. “Including my sister’s friend’s husband, who’s in for stealing bread.”

  Alvin cocked an eyebrow. “Are you such a practiced liar that nobody doubted your story?”

  “I believe he assumed that I was lying, and because I was, I wasn’t, don’t you see?”

  “He thinks you’re a liar, you pretend that you’re not, but in fact you are, so his belief is justified, but he doesn’t know that.”

  “I don’t think you made it any clearer,” said Elisha. “You just tangled it up more.”

  “Explanations aren’t among my knacks,” said Alvin.

  “When do you start?”

  “We already started. You found out which hulk we don’t want to take, and you alerted a constable that somebody is interested in what happens to that ship.”

  “So we can’t go near it now.”

  “We don’t have to be close. Just for the pleasure of it, we should be close enough to watch. From that hill.” He pointed out the window in the right direction.

  “Tonight?” said Elisha.

  “Hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Bread and cheese in that bag,” said Alvin. “I only licked your cheese a little.”

  “Thereby improving the flavor considerable, I’d wager.”

  “Maker spit isn’t a seasoning, Elisha, it’s a toxin. But I’m weary, so you’re safe enough.”

  Elisha clutching the bag with food inside, they left the hotel and wandered off into the hinterland, finally reaching the knoll at sundown. Since the shore here faced east, the waning sun was at their back, and if anyone saw them, they’d just be two silhouettes against the setting sun.

  “What do we do?” asked Elisha.

  “You sit, enjoy the scenery, sleep if you want.”

  “While you?”

  “Put that hulk out of business for a while.” Alvin sent out his doodlebug and ran it through the ship’s timbers, its well-tarred hull. As Alvin worked, a layer of tar and then another slid down into the lowest bilge, leaving the timbers of a few yards of the hull unpitched.

  Then Alvin made a gap between the boards right in that area, and water started spraying in. He widened the gaps and the water became a flood.

  Before long, the ship lurched downward where the water had pooled in the bilge. And even at this distance, Alvin could hear the ship’s bell ringing, not to tell time, but to rouse the crew. Lanterns were rushed down below deck, out of sight—but Alvin still knew where they were. Looking down into the bilge and seeing the gushing water.

  Then the lanterns all came back on deck, and a couple of them hurried down the gangplank onto shore, and then more lanterns appeared in the mini-fortress and hurried to the ship. It lurched again, and one of the lanterns fell overboard—and judging from the shouting, there had been a man attached. They’d pull him out of the water. Alvin took a minute to make sure the fallen man’s body had not been infected with anything nasty from the filthy water around the hulks, since all the sewage from all the guards and prisoners was sluiced down into the bay to feed the krill and a lot of nasty little germs.

  It took a while, but soon the prisoners, chained together, were being paraded across the deck and down the gangplank. If these prisoners had been under sentence of death, they’d already be dead. Therefore they had to be kept alive, saved from the sinking hulk, whose boards had finally given way.

  Elisha chuckled. “I find myself trying to guess which prisoner is my sister’s friend’s husband.”

  “The best liars are the ones who believe their own lies,” said Alvin.

  “Not a skill I knew I had,” said Elisha. “Maybe I should go on the stage.”

  “Making things up and saying them is very different from memorizing speeches written by someone else and saying them so an audience will believe them.”

  “You’re a pessimist,” said Elisha. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be a good actor.”

  “You’re a superb actor,” said Alvin. “But there’s still no sister’s friend’s husband down there.”

  The prisoners were herded into a holding area surrounded by lanterns. More and more came down the gangplank. Where were they going to put all these prisoners?

  “Well,” said Alvin, standing up. “Time for us to get busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Wading through the water behind those hulks. To get to where the hawsers are moored.”

  “Wading? Like—my pants and shirt in the water?”

  “I’ll get you dry. I’ll even keep you warm.”

  “With all the things that you can do,” said Elisha, “why do you need me?”

  “I needed you to find the criminals’ ship. I needed you to make the constable suspicious.”

  “I was trying not to do that.”

  “And I need you now, as we commandeer the other hulks.”

  “But they still have all their prisoners aboard,” said Elisha.

  “Don’t think of them as prisoners, my friend. Think of them as crew.”

  They made their way down the slope, not directly toward the hulks, but around the walled-off fortress area and into the water, well back from the emptying (and sinking) hulk. Elisha was surprised that the water barely topped his belly.

  “Stay right behind me. I know where the deep spots are.”

  Elisha needed no more explanation than that.

  They walked out between two of the other mooring posts, in a spot where no light fell. Alvin just stood there, and Elisha waited patiently. Alvin’s doodlebug went into one ship, then another, then the last, sealing the hulls together as he had done with the ships of his pathetic fleet back at the Quay.

  When the ships were all sealed up tight, Alvin loosened the hawsers connecting them to shore, and shortened the chains that held the anchors, so that they were aweigh and the ships could move. There wasn’t much current in the water, and no sails open to catch the breeze, but the ships were drifting.

  “How are you at climbing up a thick rope?” asked Alvin.

  “In the dark? As thick as a hawser? A rope designed for rats to get on and off the ship?”

  “That’s the rope I meant.”

  “Let’s see if I can do it,” said Elisha.

  Soon enough they knew that he could. And by the time he was on the deck, his clothes were bone dry and he was not chilled at all.

  Neither of them held a weapon. But then, neither of them could possibly have gotten aboard, so no one was watching for them. The guards were running around, debating about whether to do the obvious thing, firing muskets or firing off the tiny cannons at bow and stern. Because clearly no one on shore could see that all three of these fully-occupied hulks were drifting farther and farther into the harbor. Very slowly, but without a pause.

  Alvin strode onto the main deck among them. “Gentlemen,” he said, “perhaps you’ve noticed that your ship is adrift. It will be going to America very soon, full of people the priests have taught you to call witches, though they are nothing of the kind. If you want to make that voyage, stay aboard and help us crew this vessel. Or you can jump into the harbor—the water is soon shallow and you can wade to shore with only the occasional ducking. You have about three seconds to decide.”

  “You can’t make us do anything,” said one of the men. “We have all the guns.”

  “Time’s up,” said Alvin. Instantly all the guards lost their footing and fell heavily on the deck. Not one of them could get up—their hands and shoes kept slipping as if the deck were made of soap.

  “Have you made up your minds?” asked Alvin.

  The guard who had mentioned guns before tried to pick his up. It went soft as a wet noodle and was completely unusable.

  “You’re one of them,” said a guard.

  “He is,” said Alvin, pointing at Elisha, who had the presence of mind to keep silent with a stern face.

  “They’ll come after us and set us free.”

  “Oh, you’re free now,” said Alvin.

  The ship tilted on the starboard side, the side closer to shore. The guards, prone and supine and waving their arms and legs, slipped very quickly toward the side of the ship and then fell through wide new gaps in the gunwale. There was much splashing in the water below.

  Three of them were still clinging to the ship—one to the mainmast and two to stanchions on the deck.

  “Are you trying to communicate to me that you want to stay with the ship and sail to America?” asked Alvin.

  One of them—the one at the mast—said yes. The other two said nothing, but the terror on their faces said that they were afraid of the water. “Just splash your way toward the land. As soon as you reach shallow water, stand up and walk,” said Alvin, and the two stanchions became slippery and the men slid off the deck.

  The man at the mast still clung to it as the ship righted itself. “Do you give me your solemn oath before God that you will obey my orders and the orders of any man I place over you?”

  “I will,” said the man. “These are good men on this ship, not criminals. Are you going to set them free?”

  “They don’t know it, but I already have,” said Alvin. “Elisha, will you stay in command of this vessel while I go liberate the prisoners on the other two hulks?”

  “This ship isn’t seaworthy,” said the former guard.

  “It wasn’t,” said Elisha, “but now it is.”

  Alvin walked to the gunnel, swung over, and splashed into the water. The ship had drifted a few yards on, so the sputtering guards were wading to shore. “You’ll pay for this!” yelled one of the guards.

  “Be sure to testify at my trial,” Alvin called back. “Tell how you slid off the deck and waded to shore without firing a shot.”

  The waders said or shouted nothing more, and Alvin swam rather quickly to the next hawser. Alvin climbed up onto the deck. Within a few moments another coterie of guards was splashing to shore, this time through somewhat deeper water. Alvin made sure they were in no danger of drowning. Two men this time had volunteered to stay for the voyage to America. Alvin left them in command of the ship, suggesting that the prisoners ought to be brought up on deck and informed of their destination. They were also to resign as guards, ask the men to forgive them for any wrongs that were done to them, and ask their cooperation to get the ship fitted out for voyaging.

  The third ship was crewed by guards who had seen the men from the other ships getting to shore. Alvin knew that any who volunteered to stay now could not be trusted until they proved themselves, but Alvin would be on this ship—his flagship, as Elisha would say—and he knew how to deal with any mutineers.

  Meanwhile, someone on shore had finally realized what was afoot—or asea—and the arriving waders raised the alarm and Alvin figured it would not be long till a few military ships were in pursuit. He helped the men on all three hulks, who were going aloft to unfurl the rotting sails. The canvas needed mending—a stiff gale would tear them into tatters—but they would do for now. The breeze was out of the southwest, perfect for their purposes, and soon all three ships had men at the helm who were steering the ships northward, to rendezvous with the ship Elisha and Alvin had come in.

  As they passed the first hulk, Alvin carefully knitted back together all the boards he had parted in the hull, and slipped the tar back up the inner surface until it was indistinguishable from the rest of the tarring. Then Alvin drained the water from the bilge. No sign remained of why the ship had been abandoned. Alvin felt a spirit of mean delight, imagining the trouble those men would face, having such an unbelievable story to tell.

  After a while, Alvin could see a couple of military ships, probably with no more than a dozen cannon between them, set sail in pursuit. Alvin was no longer interested in subtlety. Their hulls dissolved into sawdust in the water, their upper decks crashed down, the cannon toppled into the harbor, and the men scrambled to launch a small boat to carry away the crew and rescue the men in the water. The danger of pursuit was over. And if the Bishop of Dublin had any kind of memory, he would know exactly who could make wooden floors give way without touching them. By the time Alvin’s new flotilla got to the Quay, there would be little time to get everyone loaded aboard one ship or another and set out into the Atlantic, where he was quite sure whatever ships the English overlords sent after them, they would not see a sign of them.

  I hope you have all the carrots and cabbages we’re going to need, Measure, since we just doubled our number with these prisoners, who might none of them have a single useful knack, but who still need to be fed.

  As they rounded Ireland and headed south on the west side of the island, Alvin watched Elisha’s ship struggle to demonstrate tacking into the wind. It took a long ragged time, but the other ships began to pick up the procedure. Tacking wasn’t something you should have to learn with a completely untrained crew under emergency conditions. But then, for all Alvin knew there were experienced seamen on the other ships. He even found a few on his.

  They came into port, tied up at the Quay, and dropped anchor. The former prisoners rushed down the gangplank, but Alvin bade them gather around him, and they did. He explained the voyage they were going to take, that there were hundreds of people with knacks contributing to make it a safe, successful voyage, and the liberated prisoners could come to America with them, or remain in Ireland, trying to elude the English on their own. “We’d like you to come with us to Crystal City on the banks of the Mizzippy River, but no one will be brought across the Atlantic unwillingly.”

  “We’ll be dropped in the icy waters to die!” shouted one of the former guards from Alvin’s ship.

  Measure and a couple of rather large men escorted the man quickly from the crowd. “Don’t worry,” said Alvin. “He’ll only be kept in gaol till the English come and liberate him. And he was a guard, not a prisoner. He will bother you no more.”

  A cheer—not a loud one, but clearly a shout or murmur of approval.

  The men staying in Ireland were given provisions to help them on the road back home. They were also given clean clothes by the women, so they wouldn’t be easy to identify as escapees on the road. And Alvin gave the men who were heading home a couple of shillings each. “Go to your families, they need you with this potato blight. Work hard to keep them alive,” said Alvin. “And I’ll work hard to keep my fellow voyagers alive.”

  The next morning, they loaded passengers and their meager belongings onto the well-stocked ships—the former hulks first, since they held the most, were best provisioned, and had a crew with some small experience during the voyage from Belfast and Ballycastle. The tide, said Elisha, would favor a departure about noon, and so it went, the hulks leading the way, the little craft bobbing after them, with the smallest vessels swayed up onto the decks of the hulks, to be used as ship’s boats if they were wanted, for passing between vessels during the voyage, or taking small parties of men ashore on some errand. No reason to put the least seaworthy boats into passenger service until and unless they were sorely needed.

  Many gathered on the decks to watch their former town on the Quay fall behind them, their tents and hovels and houses intact, as they left their homeland behind. The cold Atlantic awaited them, and the perils of a voyage that had killed many over the centuries, yet had brought far more safely to the American shore.

  18

  PHILADELPHIA THROWER DID not think of himself anymore as a Christian minister. Other men were doing that work—a good work, indeed. But it was too small for Philadelphia Thrower. He had been chosen to do a greater work. Surrounding the good Christians in the British Isles and in America was an infestation of witches, people using magical powers to change the world to their liking, without even asking the Lord’s permission.

  Naturally, the scientific part of Thrower’s mind did not believe there was any such thing as witchcraft. For one thing, it affected men as much as women. For another, there was not a whit of evidence, even under torture, that there was any communing with Lucifer. It seems that the afflicted ones first discovered their arcane powers in their youth, some as early as four or five years old. The powers corrupted them immediately, of course, teaching them to rely on their own hands rather than turning to and depending on Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit.

  Most of them, Thrower had learned, after long years of chasing down the miscreants, were harmless by intention. They had no desire to use their powers to hurt or control others. Not like the worst of them—Alvin Miller and his brother Measure, Verily Cooper, John Binder—he had a catalogue of powerful men who hovered in Alvin’s shadow.