I finally persuaded Mr. Darwin to put me back on light deck duties as well as work with him in his cabin, and my body grew strong again. Farthing took to climbing the boom of the mainsail, basking in the Pacific sun. Even the sailors working aloft—who thought themselves a class above—didn’t mind her. She watched me from on high as I worked. At night, she could be coaxed back in her crate and even seemed to become used to it. Yes, it had been a strange month all right.

Mr. Darwin broke through my thoughts.

“Quite a picture. I’ve heard it is every bit as agreeable as it looks.”

Ahead of us spread Sydney Harbour. The sun glittered bright on the water of the marina and the soft hills rising behind them were pale green. Even at a distance, the town seemed orderly and well spaced, sheltered from the sea by the natural shape of the cove.

“Covington, are you ready? I plan to take you ashore with me right away. Farthing will need to stay aboard without you for a short while.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Mr. Darwin knew I didn’t like to confine her. He turned to me and smiled, eyes flashing beneath his brows.

“Trust me, good fellow. This will be worth it. Even Farthing might agree.”

The bell rang as we entered the music shop and I gazed around, my mouth dropping open. Fiddles, yes, but other instruments too. The glow of brass caught the light from the window, dazzling me. Anything made of wood was buffed to a high shine the like of which I’d never seen, and a smell of varnish and wealth filled the shop.

“Take your pick, Covington. Don’t even glance at the price tags,” said Mr. Darwin. “You will try every fiddle in this shop, and I will buy the one that suits you best.”

The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows. He stood with his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, and although his smile was friendly, he looked confused. I was freshly scrubbed and dressed in clean but well-worn sailor’s cloth, white pants and blue tunic, and hatless. I now wore the other sailor’s hand-me-downs, my own long since grown out of. I guessed I was not his usual customer.

My cheeks flushed and I gazed at the floor, wishing I had the weight of Farthing across my shoulders. Robbins was watching her for me, but she had whined when I’d climbed into the rowboat; we hadn’t been separated since she came aboard. I should have stayed on deck. Fancy music shops weren’t my world.

Mr. Darwin took the shopkeeper aside, speaking close to his ear.

I clasped my hands together and watched the people walking past the window. Sydney was a new town, almost a city, and like none I’d seen on my travels. Echoes of England were everywhere, in the names of the parks and dusty roads, in the style of the houses. But all was fresh and bright under a crisp blue sky, nothing like the gloom and fog back home. Sydney was like a happier younger brother, still skipping in the street in knickerbockers with a ball and hoop while his older brother London hauled coal in the dark. As soon as I fetched Farthing, I’d be plenty pleased to explore at Mr. Darwin’s side and to take trips into the surrounding hills they called the Bush, although I had lost my enthusiasm for catching specimens.