She forced her attention to Miss Lawrence but was sure the flush in her face had exposed her errant thoughts.

“I shall miss you, Mercy,” he whispered.

“And I you,” Mercy responded without looking up.

He waited another moment before resuming his search in the bag. This time he immediately found what he was looking for. He lifted out a tin flask, popped off the lid, and extracted a small clear bottle. “Hopefully a sniff of smelling salts will revive her sufficiently.”

Mercy held Miss Lawrence’s head as Joseph waved the vial in front of her nose. In an instant, the woman drew in a deep breath and her lashes fluttered up.

“Oh my . . .” Miss Lawrence said with a faint smile, first at Mercy, then Joseph. “’Twould seem my poor nerves cannot handle such excitement.”

“Then you must brace yourself,” Joseph said. “You still have a great deal of excitement yet to come. Perhaps for now you should sit and rest in the shade.”

Even as he spoke, the women at the railing began to make exclamations. In the distance came the sounds of cheering, whistling, shouting, and even clapping.

Joseph glanced up, as did Mercy, but they couldn’t see past the swarm of women.

“Apparently the welcoming committee wasn’t exaggerating yesterday about the men waiting to greet you.” Joseph’s voice was laced with derision as he helped Miss Lawrence to her feet and accompanied her down the deck away from the crowd, as gentlemanly and dignified as always.

Mercy returned to the railing. Joseph’s words I shall miss you echoed through her mind and warmed her insides again.

“Strike me blind,” Ann whispered as Mercy sidled next to the girl.

“You’re not feeling faint now, are you?” Mercy took in Ann’s exceptionally pale face and eyes the size of saucepans.

“What’ll they do to us, Mercy?” Ann stared straight ahead.

“God save us,” Flo said, shrinking against Mercy as though she could protect her.

Mercy peered at the shore and gasped out her own surprise at the sight of the crowds lining the waterfront. Now she understood the source of the cheering. She tried to swallow but couldn’t make her throat work.

Beyond the numerous vessels moored in the bay were hundreds of men. They were swarming the shoreline, waving, laughing, grinning, and calling out greetings. Not even the Forward’s engines and the short blasts of her whistle could drown out the commotion.

“Are the men gonna grab us when we get off the boat and carry us off?” asked Minnie, her voice wobbly with alarm.

“No, of course not.” Mercy tried to keep her tone light for the girls, even though a terrible dread began filling her. She pointed to the wharf. “Look. Policemen are there to guard us.”