Mother watches. I cannot wait longer.

3 April

I have told Hayden.

“Is it true?”

“Yes, Brother.”

His face went ashen at the sound of that name upon my lips.

“What shall you do?” I asked him. Poor man, he held his great brown head so stiffly upon his shoulders, and looked at me for an answer. But I have none. I have nought to give.

8 April

April proceeds fitfully along, now gusting in between us, now delicately suggesting the warmer tones to come. Snow slides off the banks of the brook, falling in heavy, blanketing thuds into the newly released water. We are a land in between. In the ashy dawns, the lobstermen, cooped and restless during the winter months, nudge their thin-prowed boats severally into the widening mouth of the harbor, released at last to the open waves of the sea. Their nets hang off the bows, the pots like slat bricks piled atop the port and starboard gunwales. Now when I rise, I have companions in the early drab, the men’s voices drifting over the water, separate and short as the slap of their oars, the high whine of the oarlocks a light song.

This morning, a tightening fog shrouds the men, and listening to their calls, I feel I have reached the end of a chapter. They row from pot to pot, pulling their blue-black cargoes up. Today, their familiar grunts and laughter bespeak such purpose, I see I am on the far bourne of their world, no longer moving with an idea burning clearly in my head. I have begun to rise and listen only, listen for the crossing of my sister’s footsteps, the latch of a door eased open, my own heart thudding steadily.

10 April

The crisis is past, and so quietly. Hayden has gone to the quarry at Leadbetter’s Island. He will live there, he told us this morning, until the autumn, by which time George can find a suitable replacement for engineer. I did not look at her face.

“What do you mean?” George cried. “Where are you going in autumn?”

“I must go back to Ireland.”

“Certainly you must, but not for some time!” George finished his coffee. “I refuse to look for your replacement.”

Hayden was silent. It was as if George were the only breathing being in the room. “I will, however, come out shortly myself and join you. Now is the time to get the men back up into their paces.” And then George clattered out of the room.

We three sat. I would not leave them. This was the hour of danger. Abby sang out belowstairs.

At last, he stood—and left.

11 April

Quietly?

She came to me with a note from him held in her hand, bidding her to ask me why he must leave. At first, I looked at his handwriting and could not see the meaning of the words, so frightened was I of her face.

“What does he mean?” Susannah spoke so quietly.